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“Then why don’t we stop fighting?” Dervish asks.
“When demons catch the scent of blood, they don’t always obey their master’s orders,” Beranabus chuckles.
“So are we just going to stay here?” Sharmila shouts, face bright, lit by the flames of the burning demons around her.
“No,” Beranabus says. “Let’s move towards the castle. But keep up our defenses. I think they’ll let us through, but they won’t make it easy for us. If one of us stumbles and falls behind...”
He doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to. It’s clear that anyone who stumbles will be left for the demons.
Battling our way through the ranks of demons, edging across the strands of web, feet sticky, coated with a gluelike substance. The stench is unbelievable — not just the demons, but all the blood and guts. The webs around us are slick with the entrails and life juices of the demons we’ve wounded or killed. Lord Loss must be a strange master to let so many of his servants perish at our hands.
Some of the wounded fall between the layers of webs and disappear into the darkness, howling and screaming. But their cries never last more than a few seconds. As we draw close to the moat, and pass over a patch where the webby strands are thin and sparse, I see what happens to those who fall.
There are sharklike demons floating in the darkness beneath the layers of webs, constantly circling. Whenever a demon falls, the sharks move in for the kill, ripping the unfortunate monster to shreds, sometimes swallowing it whole.
In this universe, just when you think things can’t get any worse, they usually do!
We come to a halt at the edge of the moat. This close, I see that it’s actually just open space — a circular gap between the layers of web, with nothing to stop us from falling straight down to where the shark demons are waiting. The bridges have been drawn closed, leaving us with no simple way of getting across.
As I’m staring at the webby castle walls with one eye, keeping the other on the demons, I get the strangest sense of déjà vu, like I’ve seen this place before. But I couldn’t have. I’m probably just thinking about castles I’ve seen in books and movies.
A demon with powerful hind legs bounces high into the air and throws itself at Dervish while he’s grappling with another one of the beasts. Acting on instinct, the punk lowers his head and the spikes of his hair turn to steel. The demon is impaled and dies screaming. Dervish flicks his head left, then right, dislodging the dead demon. He bellows at Beranabus, “What now?”
“We have to jump across and scale the wall,” Beranabus shouts.
“I don’t think I can jump that far,” I roar.
“Then we’ll leave you behind for the Demonata,” Beranabus retorts. Before I can think of a reply, the magician grabs the back of my neck and leaps. A second of stomach-dropping terror as I gaze down into the abyss and the circling shark demons. Then we hit the wall and stick. “Come on!” Beranabus yells at the others.
Shark jumps with ease. So does Nadia. Dervish is nervous, and flails with his arms when jumping, but he makes it. Just as Sharmila leaps, a demon snags her sari. She rips free, but the attack robs her of her momentum, and instead of sailing across the moat, she falls towards the sharks.
“No!” Dervish shouts, reaching for her — but he’s too late. He misses. She falls. I open my mouth to scream.
Then Beranabus is beside her. He wraps an arm around her. Angles her upwards. Soars back to the wall with her, holding on until she gets a grip on the webs. She’s sobbing weakly — she thought she was finished.
“You never told us you could fly,” Shark grunts.
“It varies from world to world,” Beranabus says. “In some I can. In others I can’t.”
“Did you know you could fly here?” Dervish asks.
Beranabus shrugs. “I had a pretty good idea.”
Which means he wasn’t sure. He risked his life when he threw himself after Sharmila. Another sign that he isn’t as cold and unfeeling as he pretends.
As we’re clinging to the wall, the drawbridge closest to us is lowered. It’s amazing how it operates — the bridge and the mechanism driving it are constructed entirely of webs. Even in the middle of my fear and madness I pause and mutter, “Cool!”
There’s no creaking sound as the drawbridge touches down on the other side of the moat. Perfect silence. The demons have stopped chattering and howling. All are focused on the drawbridge now, holding their position, waiting for... what?
We soon find out.
I spy the shadow of something small, coming out of the castle. At first I think it’s the lice-headed, fire-eyed demon we saw when we arrived, but then the figure comes into sight and my heart gives an actual, physical leap.
“Art!” I scream as my kidnapped brother totters onto the drawbridge. He looks at me and giggles. Exactly as I remembered him. Unharmed by the demons. Not the least bit afraid. Looks as happy and at home as he did in Paskinston.
My initial urge is to rush to my brother, but Beranabus snaps, “Stay where you are!”
“But it’s —”
