“No. I knew it was there.”
“You knew after Slawter,” Beranabus corrects me, “but it didn’t start then. This power has been with you since you were born. Some secret part of you knew what you were from the day you came into this world—but it was afraid. It didn’t want the power and responsibility. So it pushed the magic down deep where it couldn’t work or even be noticed.
“No other magician can do that. They can deny their calling and refuse to hone their talent, but they can’t bury it completely. But you were so powerful that even as a child you were instinctively able to hide your magic from the world. If not for the Grady curse, it would have lain hidden for the rest of your life, a great power wasted.”
“I wish it had,” I mutter angrily.
“You shouldn’t,” scolds Beranabus. “If not for the magic, you’d be a wild, raging animal now. The barriers you erected between yourself and your magical potential began to crumble when you first faced demons. You had to draw on your inner power when you fought Lord Loss and his familiars. You drove your magic back down afterwards, but cracks had appeared in your armour.
“The magic has been buzzing around inside you ever since, trying to break free. You kept a lid on it for a long time, but then the curse kicked in. The werewolf came to the fore. That should have been the end of Grubitsch Grady. But the magician within you opposed the beast. You said you used magic to fight the change, but you’re wrong—magic used you. It stopped you becoming a monster.”
“No it didn’t,” I say guiltily. “I turned for a while. I killed Ma and Pa Spleen. Next time, when the moon’s full and the werewolf takes over, I’ll kill again.”
“Do you really believe that?” Beranabus asks.
“Of course.” I stare at him, confused.
He shakes his head. “The moon has exerted as powerful an influence over you as it ever will. The beast dominated for a short time, but you drove it back. It will rise again, but you’ll beat it then too. It will be easier next time. The beast will always be within you, snarling and spitting, battling to break free when the moon sings to it. But you’re in control. You won.”
“I didn’t win!” I snap. “I killed Bill-E’s grandparents. That’s not winning. Even if I never again lose control, I’ve already killed. How can you say everything’s OK? Maybe you don’t count the murder of your half-brother’s grandparents as a big deal, but I do. So don’t—”
“Show him how to remember,” Kernel interrupts. “I’m not going to listen to him rant and rage for hours. Teach him the spell—let him see how it really played out. That will shut him up.”
“What are you talking about?” I growl.
“A spell to help you recall everything that happened while you were transformed,” Beranabus says.
“Why would I want to do that?”
“To learn the truth.”
“But I already—”
“Just let him teach you the damn spell,” Kernel snaps.
I feel uneasy—I don’t want to relive the murders—but they’ve aroused my curiosity, so I play along. Beranabus tells me to close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I breathe in… hold it for five seconds… then breathe out. When I have the right rhythm, he tells me the words to use. Breaks them down into simple syllables so I can repeat them, even though I don’t know what they mean.
As I draw towards the end of the spell, a screen forms within my thoughts. It’s the huge TV screen from home. Blank, grey, like it’s on standby. I’m about to tell Beranabus there’s no signal, but then the screen flickers. Bursts of light. Static. Then…
The cave. Just after I froze the waterfall into ice. I see everything through the eyes of the beast. I’m crouched low, howling, squinting into the light of Juni’s torch as she pads hesitantly towards me. It’s crazy, but as I’m watching, in spite of all I know about her now, I feel concern for Juni. I want her to flee before the wolf attacks. I almost call a warning to her, but then I remember this is a screened replay, it’s not happening live.
In the cave, Juni comes within touching distance and regards me coolly. “The great Grubbs Grady changes at last,” she sneers, then spits at me. “You pathetic creature! If you knew how much I’ve loathed these past weeks, having to be nice to you and your mongrel of an uncle.”
The beast roars at her and raises its fists to beat her to a pulp. This time I root for the werewolf, wanting it to kill the deceitful witch. But before it can strike, Juni utters a quick spell and it falls to the ground and rolls around with muffled grunts and yelps, before coming to a quivering halt.
“There,” Juni smiles, falsely sweet. “That should hold you.”
She puts her torch down and walks around me, checking from all angles, then produces a large knife—one from our kitchen!—and lays it by my head. The beast tries to howl but can’t. Juni strolls to the wall of the cave, where the crack I created runs up near the icy waterfall. She stares at the ice, then at me, troubled. Shakes her head and chants a spell. I listen for a few minutes.
When the spell shows no sign of ending, I say without opening my eyes, “Is there a fast-forward button on this thing?”
“What’s happening?” Beranabus asks.
“I’m in the cave. I’ve turned. Juni’s crafting some long-winded spell.”
“Probably calling Lord Loss,” Beranabus notes. “Very well. Try this.”
He teaches me some new words. Once I’ve repeated them, the picture fades out, then, after some static and crackling, tunes back in. Juni’s still chanting, but she’s standing over me now. No sign of Lord Loss, but the wall is red and yellow around the crack and the ice is melting, becoming a normal waterfall again. The heat in the cave is vicious. The beast I’ve become is sweating.
Juni’s holding up the knife. She bends, presses it to the left side of my throat, makes a quick swipe. Blood spurts, drenching the blade. I go stiff, both as the werewolf in the past and me in the present. But then Juni puts her face to the cut, breathes on it and the wound closes. She moves the blade to the other side of my throat and does the same thing. Then she takes the red blade to the crack in the wall.
“What’s happening?” Beranabus asks, and I describe the scene to him. “Strange. I never heard of a demon being summoned that way. But Lord Loss is unique. Nobody knows why he’s the only demon master who can cross to our world, or how he does it. This must be a method he taught her.”
Juni smears my blood down one side of the rock within the crack, then the other. She steps back and chants more spells, louder, arms thrown wide. Finishes with a triumphant yowl, then leaps away from the crack, covering her eyes.
Nothing happens.
Juni lowers her arm and stares at the crack for a long time, then at the blade, then me. She walks across slowly and looks down, confused.
“Juni…” The word comes from deep within the rock. I place the voice straight away—Lord Loss. “Juni…” he calls again, distant, hungry, anxious.
Juni returns to the crack and talks quickly, softly. I can’t hear what she says. But then Lord Loss hisses a name that chills me to the bone.
Juni bows, sets the knife down, looks at me and grins nastily. “Stay where you are, beastie. I’ll be back for you soon.”
She leaves, not bothering to take the torch.
On the floor the werewolf struggles to tear free of its magical constraints. After a while the beast goes still. Its hands start to glow. The glow spreads and sweeps up its arms, hits its face and chest, then radiates down its body and legs.
The werewolf stands and cocks its head as if listening to someone speak. Then, with a noise that sounds like a growl of agreement, it races for the exit and heads for the surface.
As the beast lurches through the forest, I fill Beranabus and Kernel in on what’s happening. Beranabus is unsure what to make of Juni’s behaviour. “She seems to have been trying to summon Lord Loss. For some reason the spell didn’t work. But I don’t see what difference the other boy’s blood would make.”
“I don’t think she wanted Bill-E for the spell,” I murmur. “And I don’t think it failed. Lord Loss stopped her. He wanted Bill-E to be there when he crossed, so he could kill us both.”
“Perhaps,” Beranabus says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
