“He transformed,” she whispers. “He let his demonic half take over. I think he meant to die, whether he won or lost. He wasn’t sure he could change back once he set the demon free.”

“Nobody can ever change back,” Grubbs rumbles, scratching a cut on his chest, then licking flaky blood from his fingers.

Beranabus destroyed the lodestone, sending Death back to the universe of the Demonata. But the shadowy creature struck before it was whipped away, and the ancient magician died in the hold, left to be swallowed by the sea.

Bec, Dervish, Kirilli, and Sharmila made it back to the deck, fighting their way through an army of zombies. But they were trapped there, imprisoned by a barrier of magical energy as the ship sank.

“Sharmila sacrificed herself to save the rest of us,” Bec says miserably. “She lay against the barrier and we exploded her, punching a hole through to safety.” She stops, tears welling in her eyes.

“It should have been me,” Kirilli says. He hasn’t said much so far. Now when he speaks he keeps his head low, embarrassed. “I was the weakest. I ran when the others fought. I’ve served the Disciples well in a non- combative capacity, but I’m no hero. She should be here now, not me.”

“You got that right,” someone laughs, and when I look around I find Dervish standing behind me, smiling weakly. He looks even older than he did on the ship, frail, trembling, about two steps away from death. The six silver, purple-tipped spikes he grew on his head in the oasis are as impressive as ever, but apart from that he looks like a man on his last legs.

“Good to see you, old timer,” I grin.

“You too,” he says. “We thought you were zombie pate.” He winks at Kirilli, who’s glowering. “Modesty doesn’t become you, Kovacs. I prefer you when you’re blowing hot air and claiming credit for every kill in a five- mile radius.”

“I claim nothing from any man,” Kirilli snarls.

Dervish chuckles, then says, “What have I missed?”

“We’ve been bringing Kernel up to date,” Grubbs yawns, as if the stories of their adventures bore him. “Now he’s about to return the favor.”

Nodding reluctantly, not sure how to begin, I cast my mind back to when the dead first stirred on the ship, take a quick breath, and launch myself at it.

RESTLESS SOULS

I speak clearly and concisely. I don’t think I miss anything important, though I have to backtrack a few times when I recall bits that I overlooked. The others listen in silence, their faces lengthening as I reveal the direness of our situation, the belief of the Old Creatures that the universe is doomed.

There’s silence when I finish. Everyone’s brooding. Even Grubbs looks troubled—his face has altered and become more human.

“I wouldn’t have returned,” Dervish finally says. “I’ve faced a lot in my time, stepped up to all sorts of challenges. But in your position, I’d have stayed on the ark. I wouldn’t have had the guts to come back with so much at risk. I’d have gone with the safe option.”

“Coward,” Kirilli laughs.

“I don’t like being the practical one,” Meera mutters, “but what if he imagined it all? Traveling to the center of the universe… life starting with a chessboard… aliens nudging us up the evolutionary ladder… an ark world. That’s pretty far-fetched, even by our standards. What if he’s crazy? No offense, Kernel.”

“None taken.” I sigh. “I wish it was my imagination. But I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“The Kah-Gash told me I was the trigger,” Grubbs says slowly, and he has that shifty look in his eyes again. “In the hospital, when the three of us were together, it said I had the power to unite and direct it. So that part of the story’s true.”

“It’s all true,” Bec snaps. “Let’s not waste time pretending otherwise. Our world is doomed. The universe is damned. Unless we defeat Death.”

“No one ever cheats death,” Dervish says.

“I did,” Bec reminds him.

I say nothing of Raz’s suspicions about Bec. We need to work together, not abandon ourselves to paranoia.

“We need a plan,” Meera says. “Mr. Trigger Man—any ideas?”

Grubbs shrugs. “Track Death down and rip it to pieces. Easy.”

“You almost sound like you believe that,” Dervish snorts.

“I do,” Grubbs insists. “Death made a mistake when it took a body. That puts it on par with us. From what you told me, Beranabus gave as good as he got when he went up against the Shadow. He sent it screaming back to the foul realm of the Demonata. We’re stronger than Beranabus. We can inflict more damage. I say we reassemble the Kah-Gash, hit Death hard, and end this.”

“I don’t know,” Bec murmurs. “The Kah-Gash frightens me more than Death or the Demonata. They can only kill us, but the Kah-Gash can wipe out the universe, so we never even existed in the first place. I don’t think we should unleash its power unless we absolutely have to.”

“Do you have any idea if we can control it?” I ask. “You’re the Kah-Gash’s memory. Is there anything you can tell us about how it functioned in the past?”

Bec shakes her head. “I’ve always had a perfect memory, and now I can absorb the memories of others. This explains why. But I can only recall the memories of my own life or the lives of those I touch. Perhaps, if we joined, the Kah-Gash would reveal more to me, but the dangers…”

“What dangers?” Grubbs snorts. “We’re wrong to be afraid. This is our weapon. We own the pieces—hell, we are the pieces. We’re the Kah-Gash’s masters.”

“No,” I correct him. “We’re its hosts. The pieces have been in thousands of other creatures before. We have no more claim over it than any of them did.”

“Let’s just do it,” Grubbs groans. “It wants to be used. I feel my piece straining to link with yours.”

“I feel that too,” Bec says, “and it scares me. Why is it so eager to be restored, now, after all this time, with Death on the loose and hordes of demons bearing down on our world? It could be plotting against us.”

“It did what we wanted when we linked before,” Grubbs protests. “It took us back in time so that we could stop the tunnel being opened.”

“What if that was a mistake?” Bec argues. “What if we join again and it takes us further back, to when this universe was born? What if it stops that?”

Grubbs scowls and looks away impatiently.

“I share Bec’s concerns,” I tell them. “Even the Old Creatures don’t know what the Kah-Gash is really like, and they’ve been studying it for billions of years. We can’t know its true intentions.”

“Can we afford to wait?” Dervish asks. “If we’re as close to the end as the Old Creatures predict… I think we should test it.”

I sigh. “If it goes wrong, we’ll be condemning all those creatures on the ark.”

“This will sound callous,” Meera says, “but I don’t care. If our world ends, for me everything ends. I’m not concerned about other planets, Old Creatures, or aliens. You feel that way too, Kernel. You wouldn’t have come back if you didn’t.”

“But there are so many worlds… so many species…”

“Tough,” Meera snorts. “They’re not our problem. You came back to help save Earth, not the universe. Am I right or am I right?”

I smile weakly. “I can’t argue with that. OK, I’ll give it a try. But if I start to think we can’t beat Death—if it looks like we’re fighting a losing battle—I will return to the ark. I won’t go down with a sinking ship.”

Dervish claps my back. “I think you were crazy to return, but I like your style! Here’s what I suggest. We move on to the city where the next crossing’s going to happen and we let the window open. You three link and test yourselves against the demons. If you don’t wreck the universe, we’ll take that experience forward and confront

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