One of our main problems will be getting a demon in the right place, at the right time. We can’t just march into the D Workshops and ask one of them to come to the barrier with us.
But before that, we have to figure a way to convince the rest of the crew and cast that we’re not crazy, their lives are in danger, demons are real, they have to trust us if they want to live. To that end, we’re heading for Davida Haym’s offices. If she’s innocent—bloody unlikely!—Dervish hopes to recruit her and use her to issue a general alarm. If, as we suspect, she’s in league with the Demonata, he plans to make her confess in public, to persuade the others to trust us.
It’s hair-raising stuff, sneaking through town, ducking down side-alleys, keeping out of sight. We don’t know who our enemies are. Dervish doesn’t think many humans will be working for the demons, that most of the people here are innocent. But we can’t be sure who to trust. We know a few of the traitors—Chuda Sool and Tump Kooniart, the guards who were with Kuk and his father when they disappeared, probably Davida. But there will be more. We can’t expose ourselves and risk raising the alarm.
I suggest making ourselves invisible. Dervish vetoes the idea. “Powerful demons can sense magic being used. We’ve been lucky so far, but every time one of us draws on the power in the air, we risk pinpointing our position.”
So we steal through town unassisted by magic. Luckily, although it’s afternoon, Slawter is quiet, not many people about. We make it to Davida’s offices unnoticed and let ourselves in. One of her secretaries is usually stationed at the front desk, but our luck holds—the chair is vacant. We slip past and into the main office, the hub of operations, from which all orders flow.
Davida isn’t here. The office is empty. Lots of papers, small demon models, a miniature set of the town, maps on the walls with scores of dates, names, times, schedules. But no Davida Haym.
“Go through the drawers,” Dervish says, hurrying to one of the many file cabinets in the room. “Look for anything that might give us an advantage—plans, a list of demons, spells, whatever.”
“You think she’ll keep details like that in unlocked cabinets?” Bill-E asks.
“No,” Dervish sighs. “But it’ll keep us busy. And you never know—we might strike lucky.”
Rooting through drawers, pulling out folders, glancing through the pages, then discarding them, scattering them across the floor, not caring about the mess we’re making.
I’m halfway through a drawer when Bill-E makes a shushing sound and hurries to the door. He listens for a second, then nods—people are coming. Dervish and I move up next to him, taking cover behind the door, crouching low so as not to be visible through the upper panels of glass in the office wall.
Footsteps. Two people talking. The door opens.
“…
“What the hell?” Chuda Sool says, stepping up beside her.
Dervish springs to his feet. His right hand comes flying up, fingers curled into a fist. He punches Chuda’s jaw like a professional boxer. Chuda grunts and spins aside, smacking hard into the glass of the upper wall, cracking it. Bill-E and I leap on Davida as she screams. We pull her down and cover her mouth with our hands. She tries to bite but we jam our hands down more firmly.
Dervish closes in on Chuda, who’s dazed but still on his feet. Chuda tries to block Dervish’s next punch, but it penetrates, grazing the side of his head, not connecting as firmly as the first blow, but knocking Chuda back a few more centimetres. I always knew Dervish was stronger than he looked but I’ve never seen him in this sort of kick-ass mode before. It’s cool!
Chuda grabs a paperweight from Davida’s desk and swings it round, but Dervish blocks his arm and knocks it aside. Chuda roars and gets the fingers of one hand on Dervish’s throat. Dervish lets him squeeze, cool as ice, sizing him up.
Then he pummels a fist into Chuda’s stomach. Chuda grunts. His fingers loosen. Dervish takes a step back, judges the angle, then takes one final crack at his opponent’s jaw. Chuda’s head snaps back, his eyes flutter shut and he slumps to the floor.
Dervish turns away from Chuda, panting lightly. His eyes fall on Davida, still struggling beneath Bill-E and me. He jerks his head at us. We slide off. Davida starts to sit up, spluttering furiously. Before she completes the move, Dervish puts a foot on her chest and pushes her back down. Stands over her like a triumphant gladiator, fixing her with a glare which is evil in its intensity.
“Now, lady,” he snarls, “it’s time for you to talk. And you’re going to tell me exactly what I want to hear.” He moves his foot up to her throat. “Or I’ll do things to you that would make a demon blanch.”
“You have no right to do this,” Davida says sourly. Dervish has allowed her to rise. She’s sitting in her plush leather chair, glaring at us. “When I tell security what you’ve done, you’ll be in so much—”
“We know about the Demonata,” Dervish snaps. “Lord Loss and his familiars. The barrier and the lodestone in the D workshops. You can’t fool us any longer. So talk.”
Davida pinches her lips shut. We think she’s working with the demons, but we’re not sure. I guess Dervish figures it’s best to assume the worst and treat her harshly. He can apologise later if she’s innocent.
“Don’t think I won’t do terrible things to you,” Dervish says softly. “I obey human laws when it suits, but break them without hesitation when I must. The only reason I haven’t gone to work on you is the boys. But I’m five seconds away from sending them out to the next room and doing whatever I have to to get answers.”
“You don’t know what you’re interfering with,” Davida snarls, betraying herself, confirming our worst suspicions. “This is way beyond anything you can imagine.”
“You underestimate my imagination,” Dervish smiles icily.
“These are real demons, you fool! They can do things you wouldn’t believe. If you mess with them, you’ll wind up—”
“I’ve been messing with the Demonata for decades,” Dervish interrupts. “Now tell me your story. How deep are you in this? What did they promise? Power? Magic? Eternal life?”
“They promised nothing except what I asked for—a great movie.”
Dervish frowns. “We’re past that stage. Your lousy movie cover is blown. I want to know the real reason why—”
Dervish’s frown deepens. “You’re telling me that was the trade-off? You helped the demons cross to our world, provided them with all the victims you could and they agreed to be filmed? It was as shallow as that?”
“You know nothing about movie-making,” Davida sneers. “Life is shallow. It’s meaningless. Life passes and is forgotten within minutes. But movies endure. A film outlives everyone involved. If it’s good enough. If it’s magical.”
She leans forward intently. “You think I’m evil and you’re probably right. I brought all these people here, knowing they’d die. But we all die in the end. Pointless, forgettable deaths. We fade and it’s like we never existed. We come, we live, we die, and that’s that. Not much of a story, huh?
“But that’s about to change for you, me, everybody here. We’ll become part of history. I’m making a movie which will survive as long as the human race itself. Demons will attack… kill hundreds of people in unimaginable ways… and I’ll capture it all on camera. Splice it in with the other scenes I shot. Make the most shocking horror film ever. I’ll be notorious, yes, feared and despised. I’ll be imprisoned, maybe executed. But I’ll be
She stops, breathing heavily, face flushed.
“She’s loco,” Bill-E says. “How come she wasn’t locked up years ago?”
Dervish shakes his head in wonderment. “You planned to let these people be butchered in the name of art, so you could film the massacre and turn it into entertainment. That’s a new one. I’ve seen crazy mages bring the Demonata into our world for all sorts of reasons—but never to break box-office records.”
“You don’t get it,” Davida laughs. “This is immortality. It will put us up with the ranks of the great. We’ll mingle with the giants of history—Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon. The world will always want to see this film, to experience true terror, to get as close as they can to the reality of the demonic.”
“You’re deluding yourself,” Dervish says. “There won’t be a film. Even if you capture the footage, you won’t
