Читать книгу Demon Road - Derek Landy - Страница 15

EDGAR WENT TO FETCH the paraphernalia Amber would need to summon the Shining Demon, and the moment he was out of the room Amber looked over at Milo.

“I’m doing it now?”

Milo shrugged.

“Imelda said it took days of fasting and loads of preparation.”

“There’s more than one way to summon the Shining Demon,” said Milo. “Sometimes you don’t even have to summon him – he’ll appear right when you’re at your most vulnerable.”

“Milo, I don’t know …”

“If you don’t want to do this, say so. We’ll find some other way.”

“Is there another way?”

Milo didn’t answer.

Amber slowly clasped her face in her hands and dragged her fingers down her cheeks.

Then she sat forward. “So what do I say? How do I greet the Shining Demon? Do I call him sir, or lord, or master?”

“He’s not your lord and not your master, so you don’t have to call him anything. Relax, okay? You don’t have to be so nervous. Talk to him like you’d talk to me, but don’t agree to anything other than the terms you want. Ignore everything he says that isn’t on topic. He’ll try to trick you. Listen to every word he uses, because he uses them for a reason.”

“You’re not making me any less nervous.”

“Sorry.”

“Do you think this is a good idea?”

“It’s the best one we have.”

“That’s not saying a lot, though, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

Amber sat back. Her insides were in knots. “What do you think Imelda will do when she finds out I actually met the Shining Demon?”

“That all depends on whether this plan works.”

“How do you know her, anyway?” she asked.

“How does anyone know anyone?”

“I don’t know. They meet?”

“There you go,” said Milo. “We met.”

Edgar came back in. Amber didn’t know quite what she had been expecting – maybe a robe, or a ceremonial dagger, or a box full of candles with pentagrams moulded on to their sides. She wasn’t expecting a large leather pouch, shaped like a deflated balloon.

“It’s a gunpowder flask,” Edgar said proudly, handing it over with something approaching reverence. It was heavy, filled to its leather stopper with what felt like sand. “Persian, nineteenth century, made from a camel crotch.”

“Ew.”

Edgar chuckled. “Don’t worry, the camel’s long dead.”

“Still ew.”

“See those engravings on the hide? Those intricate little engravings? I don’t know what they are. Pretty, though, aren’t they?”

“There’s gunpowder in here?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Something far more powerful. Far more valuable, too. The only reason I’m letting you use it is because I couldn’t get it to work myself.”

Milo frowned. “You tried summoning the Shining Demon?”

“Everyone wants something,” Edgar said, a little sadly, “but I just wasn’t interesting enough for him to bother with. Story of my life, huh? But, if this will work for anyone, it’ll work for Amber, and then I can finally find out if it was worth the money I paid for it, or if I was scammed. Y’know, again.”

“How do I use it?” she asked, handing the flask back.

Edgar cleared a space on the coffee table and laid it down, then sat. “You pour the powder in a circle around you, making sure there are no gaps. You put a match to it. It catches fire. That’s it.”

“It’s that easy? And then the Shining Demon will appear?”

Edgar hesitated.

“What?” Milo asked, suspicion in his voice.

“The Shining Demon doesn’t do that anymore,” Edgar said. “Appearing, I mean. You can’t make him come to you. Instead, you go to him.”

Amber went cold. “I what?”

Milo frowned. “She what?”

“I couldn’t get it to work, so I just have to go by what the guy who sold it to me said, all right? You put a match to the circle, and when it’s lit you … arrive.”

“Where?” said Milo.

“Wherever the Shining Demon is,” said Edgar.

“Hell?” Amber asked, her voice small.

“Maybe. But don’t look so scared. It’s absolutely fine. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“It doesn’t sound perfectly safe,” Milo said.

“It is, though. She’ll be in no danger whatsoever. As long as she doesn’t step outside the circle.”

“I don’t like this,” Amber murmured. “Will you both be with me, at least?”

Edgar made a face. “We’ll have to stay here, I’m afraid. Them’s the rules. But you don’t have to worry about a thing. You’ll meet the Shining Demon. You’ll explain your situation. You’ll offer him the guy who welched on the deal in exchange for a way to protect you from your parents and their friends.”

“And only that,” said Milo. “Do not deviate from the script.”

“That’s a good point,” said Edgar. “The Shining Demon likes to talk, by all accounts, and he might try to get you to agree to something you really shouldn’t be agreeing to. Keep it simple. If he likes the terms, he’ll accept them. If he doesn’t, douse the flames and you’ll come straight back. Do not step out of the circle. I cannot stress that enough.”

“What if he pulls me out?”

“He won’t be able to touch you so long as you stay where you are. Also, for your own wellbeing, it’s probably advisable not to look directly at him.” Edgar got to his feet. “There. I think that’s everything.”

Amber looked up at him. “I still have, like, a billion questions.”

“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” said Edgar. “You’ll be fine. Come on, you can do it in the backyard.”

He took the powder flask and walked out to the kitchen. Milo got up, helped Amber stand. Her legs felt weak.

“Am I actually going to do this?” she asked.

“You can change your mind at any time.”

She expelled a long breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to actually do this …”

They went out back. The dark yard was modest, with a small pool that needed a serious skimming. Whether the sweat on Amber’s face was from the humidity or the trepidation, she couldn’t be sure. The rain had stopped, which allowed the cicadas to start singing again. Edgar led Amber to a patch of crabgrass and handed her the powder flask and a battered matchbook with a picture of a staircase on the front.

“All set,” he said.

She looked to Milo for instruction, but he just stood there, cool in the heat. Expecting either of them to correct her at any moment, she undid the stopper on the flask, crouched down, and began to pour.

The opening was small, and the fine black powder came out in a thin, steady stream. The warm breeze made the grasses ripple, but the powder flowed straight down like it was a perfectly still night. Amber turned 360 degrees, making sure not to leave any gaps, and when she finished she stood in the small circle and plugged the flask with the stopper. She held it out to Edgar, but he waved it away.

“Hang on to it until you’re done,” he said, and she hung the strap over her shoulder so that it dropped diagonally across her chest.

She took a match from the matchbook and crouched again. Her mouth was dry. Her hands were shaking. She needed to pee. She looked up at Milo.

“See you when you get back,” he said.

Amber ran the head of the match across the sandpaper strip. The match flared, and with shaking hands she put the flame to the powder. It lit instantly, expelling a stench so violent it made her head turn. The fire spread from the point of contact in both directions, and she stood and watched it surround her. When the flames met and the circle was complete, the flames turned blue and she was indoors now, in a castle, its vast walls constructed of hewn stone, its ceiling too high to see, its thick wooden rafters swallowed by shadows.

In front of her were five arched doorways with corridors like the fingers of a splayed hand. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting various acts of depravity, their shock value immediately shamed by the even more gruesome images captured in the stained glass of the long windows that sliced through the wall above.

It was cold here. The sweat that had layered her body in the Miami heat was now making her shiver. Her breath crystallised in small clouds. She thought she was alone until she heard the giggle.

Someone was standing in the dark area between the doorways. Lurking.

“Hello?” she called. Her voice didn’t sound like her own. It sounded like the voice of a scared child. “I … I see you. I can see you. Hello?”

The shape didn’t move.

From somewhere, from elsewhere, came the sound of screaming, a chorus of pain carried to her on the wind. It was gone almost before it had registered.

“Hello,” said the shape.

It came forward, into the light. Tall and thin, a genderless thing, wearing a patchwork robe that may have been a gown. Heavy make-up, black and badly applied, rimmed its eyes, while its thin mouth was smeared with red lipstick. The foundation it used covered the entirety of its bald head in a thick grey-white that may have been ash.

“Are you the Shining Demon?” asked Amber.

The curious thing gave a high-pitched titter, covering its mouth with long-fingered hands.

“No, no, no,” it said in its curious voice. “No, no. But he knows you’re here.”

“Where am I?”

Another titter. “In his castle.”

“Is this hell?”

“To some. What’s your name?”

“Amber.”

“Hi, Amber. I’m Fool.”

“Hi, Fool.”

“Do you want to play with me?” Fool asked. “I know lots of games. Do you want to play Who Can Scream the Loudest? I’m very good at that. Or maybe Who Can Bleed the Most? I bet you’d win. I’ll give you a head start, if you’d like.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Step out of the circle, Amber.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” said Fool, moving closer. “Step out of the circle.”

Fool smiled. Its teeth were small shards of coloured glass sticking out from bloody gums.

It turned its head suddenly, its eyes narrowing. From one of the corridors came a glow.

“He’s here,” Fool whispered, and without giving Amber another glance it sprinted from the room.

Amber fought the urge to run, even though every instinct in her body was screaming at her. She watched as the glow got brighter, then turned, lowering her head while her hands shielded her eyes. The room was suddenly lit up. From behind her, the light tread of bare feet.

“You seek an audience with me,” came a voice. Male. Hushed.

“Yes,” she croaked out, closing her eyes. “I’m … I …”

“I know who you are, child. I know why you’re here. You seek protection from those who would harm you.”

She nodded. Her mouth was so, so dry. “My parents. And their friends.”

“I know them, too,” the Shining Demon said. “So eager. So ruthless.” His brightness soaked through her eyelids. It hurt. “You are the first to have escaped their platter. The first to find your way to me.”

“I need your help.”

“But of course,” said the Shining Demon, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I am the only one who could possibly help you. I am your only hope, am I not? Come, Amber, let me show you my castle.”

“I … I was told to stay in the circle.”

“Mmmm. Yes. Wise, I suppose.”

“Where are we?” she asked. “Is this hell?”

“Questions, questions,” said the Shining Demon. “Such an inquisitive species, the living. The dead have no need for questions. The dead are quite content in their gentle ignorance.” He was walking now, circling the circle in which she stood. Amber didn’t speak. She had the feeling he wasn’t finished.

“This is his kingdom,” the Shining Demon continued. “The one known by many names. My dark and terrible master.”

“The Blood-dimmed King,” Amber said.

“One of his names, yes,” said the Shining Demon. “This is his kingdom, but we are in my castle. You are my guest, Amber. I assure you, no harm will befall you if you take one simple step …”

She turned away from the sound of his voice. “I’m … I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m just here to make a deal.”

Silence. And then, “Pity.”

She licked the dryness from her lips. “Can you help me? Can you take back the power you gave them?”

The Shining Demon came to a stop somewhere to her left. “Your parents, their friends, they have ideas above their station. Ambitions. Some might say blasphemies. But a deal is a deal – I cannot break my part any more than they can break theirs. I cannot take back their power, or alter the terms of the bargain I made with them. But there may still be a way for me to help you. What are you willing to give in return?”

She swallowed. “There’s someone you made a deal with, years ago. He cheated you.”

“Nobody cheats me, child.”

“This one did. You gave him what he wanted and then he ran. He never held up his end of the bargain. Do you remember him?”

The Shining Demon paused for a moment. “I know the one you speak of.”

“I can find him. I can find him for you.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No, but I can find out. I think I can find out.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“Do we have a deal?”

“If you do find him, Amber, then we will talk of deals.” Bare feet on stone. He was walking away.

“No,” she said.

A sound, like the sharp intake of breath, whistled through the room.

“No?” he echoed.

She had the feeling she had just committed a serious breach of demonic etiquette, but carried on regardless. “I want your word that we’ll have a deal if I bring him to you.”

“Is that what you want? Truly?”

“Yes,” she said, with what she hoped was steely resolve.

He moved closer. “A time limit, then,” he said. “How long will you need?”

“Uh … six weeks?” she said, doubling what Imelda had suggested.

“You have three,” said the Shining Demon, and Amber did her best not to grimace. “Twenty-one days. Five hundred and four hours.”

“And … and then you’ll protect me from my parents?”

He was standing right in front of her now. “I cannot alter the terms of the deal I struck with them, but, if you bring me this man in the time allotted, I will alter you, Amber. Your blood will be poison. To consume you would mean death.”

“But I’ll be all right, yes?”

That smile, appearing again in his voice. “Your blood will be poison to everyone but you. You have my word. Do I have yours?”

“I … I guess. What’s his name? The man who cheated you?”

“I can give you no more help. I am extending my hand to you – shake it, and we will have a deal.”

“I … I can’t reach out of the circle,” Amber said.

“Come now,” the Shining Demon responded. “Tradition must be upheld or the bargain is not binding.”

“I was told not to leave the circle.”

“You are still standing in it, are you not?”

Amber bit her lip, then slowly reached her hand out.

The Shining Demon grabbed her hand and twisted, and Amber cried out and screwed her eyes shut tighter as he pressed a fingertip into her wrist. It burned.

“Five hundred and four hours,” said the Shining Demon as he moved his finger. “If you fail to bring this man to me in the allotted time, your soul is forfeit.”

“No!” Amber cried, trying to pull away. “I didn’t agree to that!”

“Those are the terms,” the Shining Demon said, and released her so suddenly that she nearly stumbled out of the circle.

She turned away from him, clutching her right hand as she cracked her eyes open. The number 504 was burned into the inside of her wrist, a mark, a brand that was already hardening into a scar. The pain faded quickly. “I didn’t agree to this,” she said. “I didn’t—”

A wind rushed in from all five corridors, a dank wind that brought with it hints of rot and sickly perfume and overripe fruit and human waste, and the wind extinguished the circle of fire and Amber was outside again, in Miami, and Milo was rushing forward to catch her as she fell.