Wolf Island. Darren Shan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ weren’t attacked by demons,” Meera says. “They were…” She locks gazes with me and frowns uncertainly. “Werewolves.”

      We gawp at her. Then, without discussing it, Kernel turns away and his hands become a blur as he sets about opening a window back to the human universe.

      → Beranabus crosses first. I’m not far behind. I find myself in a hospital corridor. It looks like the ward where they keep newborn babies. Bec is on the floor close to us. There are two demons. One has the features of an anteater, but sports several snouts. The other is some sort of lizard. Beranabus is addressing them with savage politeness — he’s ultra protective of his little Bec.

      “What do the pickings look like now?” he asks as Kernel, Shark and Meera step through after us. In response, the demons bolt for safety. Kernel and the Disciples race after them.

      “Dervish?” I snap at Bec, not giving a damn about demons, babies or anything else except my uncle.

      “Back there,” Bec pants, pointing back down the corridor. “Hurry. He was fighting a demon. I don’t know–”

      I run as fast as I can, long strides, readying myself for the worst. I glance into each room that I pass. Signs of struggle and death in some of them, but no Dervish. I pause at the door of what looks to be an empty room. I’m about to push on when something grunts.

      Entering, I spot Dervish to my left, half-obscured by an overturned bed. There’s a demon on top of him, shaped like a giant insect with a golden shell. It’s snapping at Dervish’s face, mandibles grinding open and shut. I’m on it in an instant. I make a fist and smash through its protective shell. It shrieks and turns to deal with me, but I fill its guts with fire and it dies screaming. When I’m sure it’s dead, I toss it aside and bend over my startled, bleary-eyed uncle. He slaps at me feebly. Doesn’t recognise me. He’s finding it hard to focus.

      “Hey, baldy,” I chuckle. “Things must be bad when you can’t squish a damn cockroach.”

      Dervish relaxes and his eyes settle on me. The smile which lights his face is almost enough to bring me to tears.

      “Grubbs!” he cries, throwing his arms around me.

      “Don’t go all blubbery on me,” I mutter into his shoulder, fighting back sobs.

      Dervish pushes himself away, touches my face with wonder, then says in that wry tone I recall so well, “You could have sent me a card while you were away.”

      “No post offices,” I grunt, and we beam at each other.

      → Waiting while the Disciples cleanse the hospital of demons. I should help them, but this will probably be the only private time I get with Dervish. Things have a habit of moving swiftly when Beranabus gets involved. Once they finish off the last demon, talk will turn to the werewolf attack and there might not be any time to sit with my uncle and chat. I’ve devoted a huge chunk of my life to Beranabus’s cause. I’m due a few minutes of down time.

      “I told you healthy eating wasn’t worthwhile,” I say, nudging Dervish in the ribs (but gently — he looks like blood mixed in with lumpy porridge). “You told me I should watch my diet. But who had a heart attack first?”

      “As illogical as ever,” Dervish scowls. “I thought you might have matured while you were away, but obviously you haven’t.”

      “Seriously, how have you been?” I ask.

      “Apart from the heart attack?”

      “Yeah.”

      He shrugs, looking older than I’d have thought possible. “I’m about ready to follow Billy into the wide blue yonder.”

      My face stiffens. “Don’t say that, not even joking.”

      “No joke,” he sighs. “I was given a single task by Beranabus – guard the entrance to the cave – and I screwed it up. I told Billy’s mum I’d look after him — some job I did of that. I took you in and promised you’d be safe with me, then…”

      “I was safe with you.”

      “Yeah, I really protected you. Lord Loss and his familiars didn’t get anywhere near you on my watch, did they?”

      “That wasn’t your fault,” I tell him heavily. “You did the best you could. For me and Bill-E.”

      “Then why is he dead and why are you lost to me?” Dervish moans.

      “Because we live in a world under siege,” I say. “Life sucks for mages and magicians — you taught me that. Bad things happen to those of us who get involved, but if we didn’t fight, we’d be in an even worse state. None of it’s your fault, any more than it’s the fault of the moon or the stars.”

      Dervish nods slowly, then arches an eyebrow. “The moon or the stars?”

      “I always get poetical when I’m dealing with self-pitying simpletons.”

      We laugh. This is what I love best about my relationship with Dervish — the more we insult each other, the happier we are. I’m trying to think of something disgusting and hair-curling to say when Beranabus appears. He’s using baby-wipes to clean his hands.

      “Still alive?” he asks Dervish.

      “Just about.”

      “We’re finished here. Time to go.”

      It’s not fair. We’ve only had a few minutes together. I want to ask Dervish about Bec and how they’re coping. How he explained Bill-E’s disappearance to our neighbours. What’s happening with my friends. I want to complain about my life with Beranabus and boast about all the action I’ve seen.

      But those are childish, selfish wishes. We’re in the middle of a maternity ward. I’ve seen several dead and dismembered bodies already — nurses, mothers, babies. There are probably dozens more scattered throughout the hospital. I’d be the shallowest person in the universe if, in the face of all that tragedy, I moaned of not having enough time to spend with my uncle.

      “Where are we going?” I ask.

      “The roof,” Beranabus says. “We need to discuss the situation before moving on. It’s more complicated than we thought. Bec says the demons who struck were led by Juni Swan.” I stare at him incredulously, then start to shout questions. “Not now!” Beranabus stops me. “We’ll talk about it on the roof.”

      “I don’t think I can make it that far,” Dervish says.

      Beranabus mutters something beneath his breath – it sounds like, “I hate the damn Gradys!” – then picks up Dervish.

      “I can carry him,” I say quickly.

      “No,” Beranabus grunts. “Keep watch for any demons we might have missed.”

      Settling Dervish on his back, the magician heads for the stairs. I follow a metre behind, eyes peeled for monsters all the way up the blood-drenched steps to the roof.

      NEW MISSION

      → СКАЧАТЬ