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“It was when he bit me,” I whisper. “That’s when I knew. Art loved to bite. And the marbles, when he held them over his eyes — they looked like the demon’s.”
Lord Loss nods slowly. “You stole him, Cornelius. You were lonely, desperate for a friend, somebody who would be true to you and with you always. You found a way into my kingdom. Snatched Artery. Gave him human shape. Convinced yourself that he was your natural brother.”
“But Mom and Dad must have known the truth!” I cry.
“They knew he was not theirs,” Lord Loss agrees. “But they did not know he was a demon, where he came from, or why you believed that he was your brother. He reminded your mother of the baby daughter she lost. She saw him as a second chance, a gift from the gods. Your father wanted to give the baby to the police, to be returned to its rightful parents. He tried to sway Melena, without success. She used you to swing him around to her way of thinking. You thought the baby was your brother. If they took him away, she said you’d suffer dreadfully. Out of love for you, he agreed to lie.
“They watched the news closely — furtively — over the coming days. If a baby had been reported missing, perhaps decency would have won out and your father would have handed Art over. Or perhaps not. Your sister’s death had hurt him terribly too. Maybe he would have let your mother talk him into holding on to the child, no matter what.
“In any event, when there was no mention of a missing baby, they decided to keep him and rear him as their own, as the brother you believed he was. But they couldn’t stay in the city, where people knew they only had one child. So they abandoned their jobs and fled. Took you and the baby away. Started a new life in Paskinston, where nobody had cause to be suspicious, where things were simpler, where they could rear their new son in peace.”
He strokes Art’s head, never taking his eyes off me. I’m trembling uncontrollably, my world falling to pieces, the last year of my life exposed as a lie, me revealed as a villain, Mom and Dad as devious accomplices.
“How did he transform the demon?” Beranabus asks. “Transfiguration’s a complicated spell. He couldn’t have managed it alone.”
“Yet he did,” Lord Loss says. “I assumed he was the pawn of a powerful magician, maybe even a fellow demon. That is why I did not retrieve Artery immediately. I hoped the manipulator of the boy would reveal himself. Eventually I decided to steal Artery back, hoping to tempt Cornelius’s master out of hiding. It was only when Cornelius came into this universe and tested his powers that I realized he’d acted alone. I still do not know how he did it — only that he did.”
Everyone’s staring at me. I feel like an exhibit at a freak show. Roll up! Roll up! Come and marvel at Kernel Fleck, thief of demons, master of disguise! He can hide a demon from everybody — even himself!
“So I never had a brother,” I whisper. “It was all a lie.”
“A dream,” Lord Loss corrects me. “And now you have awoken, thanks to my genero
us help.”
“Some help!” Dervish snorts. “You could have just told him.”
“That would have been cheating,” Lord Loss says. “He had to discover the truth himself — or search for it in vain for the rest of his life. I would have been happy either way. The misery of his ignorance would have been sweet. But the misery of his understanding is just as welcome.”
“What misery?” Shark asks. “He beat you. He found out the truth.”
“And lost a brother in the process,” Sharmila says softly, as I weep quietly.
“But he never had a brother,” Shark says. “It was a sham, a cuckoo’s child.”
“But Kernel thought it was real.” Sharmila frees herself from Beranabus’s grip, walks over and lays a hand on my right shoulder. Squeezes gently.
“What now?” Beranabus asks, businesslike, no longer interested in the mystery of the theft or the illusion. “Are we free to leave?”
“Of course,” Lord Loss says. “Cornelius fulfilled the terms of our agreement. He discovered the true thief and named him. You can depart whenever you like.” He looks around absentmindedly. “Cadaver seems to have slipped away while we were otherwise involved, but I am sure you can track him down again.”
“Then let’s go,” Beranabus says. “We’ve wasted enough time on this farce.”
“Shut up, you stupid, thoughtless man!” Sharmila shouts, surprising us all. She glowers at Beranabus, then strokes the back of my neck. “There is the matter of Kernel’s brother to settle.”
“Brother?” Beranabus huffs. Sharmila points at the child on Lord Loss’s knee. “But that’s just a demon made up to look like a boy.”
“Yes. But he has been Kernel’s brother for the past year. And I suspect, by the smile of his master, he can be again. If Kernel so wishes.”
Lord Loss laughs hollowly. “You have a sharp eye, Miss Mukherji.” He holds Art — Artery — up with four of his hands. The baby giggles and tries to bite off one of the demon master’s fingers. “Artery is precious to me, but he has been equally precious to Cornelius. I am not evil-hearted — I have no heart, neither evil nor good — so I am willing to let my familiar go. If Kernel wishes to take him, I will not stand in his way.”
I slowly look up. “I can have Art back? He can be my brother again?”
“If you want,” Lord Loss smiles.
I stare at the demon master, then at Art, grinning at me over the lumpy fingers. He looks no different than he did the day Cadaver took him. Why shouldn’t I take him home as my brother, carry on with life and try to forget that this crazy period of time ever happened?
“What would he be like when he grew up?” Dervish asks.
