Demon Thief (The Demonata 2)

“Do not blame the boy,” Sharmila says, putting her hands on my shoulders. “He argued to let you be, as did I. But Beranabus would not listen.”

“Why?” Nadia cries, whirling on Beranabus. “Why didn’t you leave me there? I could have been happy. Led a normal life. Been human again. Why rip me away from all that?”

“I need you,” Beranabus says flatly.

“No you don’t! I gave you what you wanted — a vision that might help you find part of the Kah-Gash.”

“There will be other parts to find.”

“But that could take hundreds of years! Thousands! We’ll both be dead long before that happens — if it ever does.”

Beranabus shrugs.

“This is slavery,” Nadia snarls. “You always said I was free to leave.”

“And you are,” Beranabus insists. “As soon as we find the pieces of the Kah-Gash. Until then, I need you. Your universe needs you. I know you don’t enjoy this, but that doesn’t matter. You’ve been chosen, like the rest of us. If we turn our backs on our responsibility, the entire world will fall to the Demonata.”

“I don’t care!” Nadia shrieks. “What’s the difference between fighting them here or in my own world? They might as well take it over for all it matters to me!”

“Then you would never have anywhere safe to go,” Beranabus says.

“So? I can’t go there anyway while you’re holding me prisoner.”

Beranabus exhales sharply, starts to say something, stops, then smiles tightly. “We’ll make a deal. Stay with me until I find this piece of the Kah-Gash. After that, you can go. I’ll open a window to the human world for you and not stand in your way.”

“And if I die during the search?” Nadia retorts. “Or if it takes a hundred years to find it? Or if you never find it?”

Beranabus’s smile disappears. “I’m trying to be reasonable.”

Nadia laughs. “No. You know this is wrong and you want to feel better about it. You don’t want to admit you’re as ruthless and monstrous as the demons you claim to hate.”

“I never said I hated the Demonata,” Beranabus says quietly. “And I never claimed to be anything other than — as you say — ruthless and monstrous. That’s how I need to be to fight them.”

Nadia prepares another curse, then realizes it would be a waste of breath. She looks around at us, hateful and alone. Points a finger at Beranabus. “You betrayed me. That’s something I won’t forget or forgive. You don’t just have to watch out for demons anymore — when I’m around, you’ll have to worry about me too. I hate you as much as they do now, and I’ll quite gladly kill you if I ever get the chance. And anybody else who’s with you.”

With that, she turns her back on us, screams at the three moons, then sits and weeps while Beranabus looks on with an unconvincing, half-shameful sneer.

SEARCHING

AN uneasy mood. We’re all uncomfortable. Even the gruff Shark, who believes in forcing people to work for the Discip

les, isn’t used to tyrants like Beranabus.

The magician comes over and sits with us. He scratches the sole of his left foot, then runs a hand through his hair and coughs. “Take no notice of Nadia’s hysterics,” he says. “She’ll be all right when she calms down. We’ve had similar confrontations before. Although this is the first time she’s threatened to kill me.” He laughs harshly. Nobody smiles.

“This isn’t the best of introductions, is it?” Beranabus notes, looking at me wryly. “You think I’m a heartless beast. But this is the way life is for me. I have no time for decency. I’m a demon killer. That’s my sole purpose in life. I sleep soundly — on those rare occasions when I sleep — because I know I’m doing the task that the universe charged me with.” He points at my shoes. “You might want to get rid of those. You too, Shark, and... Deviant?”

“Dervish.”

“Aye. Dump the shoes. They block the flow of magic. Even the slightest advantage can be vital when you’re faced with a demon and battling for your life. I’m assuming you two intend to stay and help.”

Shark and Dervish glance at each other edgily. I don’t think either had planned to stay. Then Shark shrugs and raises an eyebrow. Dervish nods in answer and smiles weakly. They bend to untie their laces.

Beranabus studies me closely as I peel my socks off. “You’re a strange one, Kernel Fleck. Normally I can sense magic in those who possess an abundance of it, but I get almost nothing from you, even though you must be throbbing with power to open windows between worlds so swiftly.”

“I don’t think it’s magic,” I say shyly. “It’s like a puzzle. I see lights and I’m able to slot them together when they pulse. That’s the only difference between me and you. I can see the pieces of the window. You can’t.”

“Tell me about these lights,” Beranabus says. “When you first noticed them and realized you could manipulate them.”