Tobias was stunned. Here was a man—a monster, really—for whom he had betrayed everything he had known, and now, he was being betrayed in return.
Fitting, he thought.
“I’m taking her to where the barrier is weakest,” Crowley continued. “Where humanity first became aware that their time of supremacy upon this world would someday be coming to a close.”
“Will this release hurt her?” Tobias asked, already thinking of the offensive spell he was about to unleash upon the room.
Crowley thought for a moment. “It will likely kill her,” he said. “But rest easy that in the state she’s in now, I doubt she’ll feel a thing.”
“Too bad the same can’t be said for you,” Tobias screamed, casting a magickal blast at the sorcerer and his small monster army.
Effortlessly, Crowley captured the sparking energy between two of his spider limbs. “There’s so much anger in you, young Tobias,” he said, hurling the magickal force back.
Tobias tried to deflect the blast, but it was too strong, hurling him backward against the wall outside the chamber. He hit the stone with incredible force, flowers of intense color blooming before his eyes. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he fought unsuccessfully to stay on his feet.
“Be careful that someone doesn’t turn around and use that against you someday,” Crowley said, moving toward the passage, following his sister in the pool of inky black.
“Give me back my sister,” Tobias managed as he struggled to get to his feet.
“I’m afraid not, boy.” The sorcerer began to merge with the fluid darkness of the gateway. “She still has her part to play in the greater scheme of things, while yours, I’m afraid, is at an end. Good-bye, Tobias, it was a pleasure working with you. Go to death knowing that your achievements will see that your name goes down in infamy.”
And the dark magician disappeared through the floating tear in the fabric of reality.
Tobias could feel the evil stares of those left behind as he managed to climb unsteadily to his feet. His body screamed with agony, and he was sure that something important had been broken inside him. He didn’t know what would happen next, but was certain it wouldn’t be good.
Cracklebones spun his battle-ax standing at the front of the pack.
“You saved my life from the griffon back at Stone House,” the troll said.
“Yes,” Tobias managed, even saying a single word causing him blinding pain. “Yes, I did.”
“I’ll see what I can do about making this quick,” Crackle-bones said as he stopped twirling his gore-encrusted weapon.
“I appreciate the thought.” He stifled a cough, the metallic taste of blood overpowering in his mouth.
“’Least I can do,” the troll said.
And with what needed to be said between them out of the way, Cracklebones charged at him, and the monsters attacked en masse.
The smell of Tobias’s magick had changed. Turning from the smell of dirty socks to hot dogs. Hot dogs dipped in gasoline, but hot dogs nonetheless.
And Bogey loved hot dogs.
The young Mauthe Dhoog closed his eyes and started to sing his rifting spell. He had to be careful with this one, certain to overlay his spell on top of the one that Tobias had already cast. It was tricky, but not for someone who was as skilled at rifting as he was.
He was the real deal.
Bogey had been rifting for as long as he could remember, opening passages from his home dimension to countless other worlds so that he could explore. His favorite was still the earth. He loved the energy, the clothes, the music, movies and, most of all, the food.
Bram and Stitch’s unexpected arrival to Guttswallow couldn’t have come fast enough. He had been losing his mind there, and even though he had been forbidden to rift since the treaties between the Mauthe Dhoog and humanity had been agreed upon and signed, it didn’t stop him from visiting the earthly realm any chance he got.
The rift opened to the other side with a sound like a monster truck.
Bogey turned to his new teammates and gave them a sly grin.
“Next floor, villain’s secret lair,” he said, presenting the passage with a bow and a flourish of his hand.
“This is it,” Bram said, the first to step into the rift.
Stitch was right behind him, followed by Desmond, pushed by his Night of the Living Dead Daddy.
Emily was last and looked nervously at the pulsing rift before her.
“Go ahead,” Bogey said. “It won’t bite.”
“Not really looking forward to what’s waiting on the other side,” she said, still hesitating.
“You’ll be all right, you’re a natural at this,” he said, trying to make her feel better, though the facts were that they could very easily be walking into a death trap.
But those were the breaks when you were in the Brimstone Network.
“That’s what I don’t like,” she said. “The wolf side … this is all so natural for it … the killing and everything. Kind of makes me sick.”
Bogey nodded. “I can see it,” he said. “But this is probably kind of a big deal for the world and everything, so maybe you should go through the rift, help us to get this situation under control, and then we can worry about what to do about you not liking your wolf-self later. How’s that sound?”
“Whatever,” she said with an eye roll, entering the doorway that he’d conjured with a huff.
Bogey laughed, following through and sealing the entrance behind him.
He loved this stuff.
And there was no place he’d rather be.
Exiting Bogey’s rift into the chamber, Bram’s foot caught on something and he nearly fell flat on his face.
It was a good thing that somebody had left a dead goblin there to cushion his fall.
“Careful,” he warned as Stitch came through behind him.
“What in the name of all that’s holy has happened here?” the patchwork man asked as he gazed at the carnage that had apparently unfolded in the chamber not too long ago.
The bodies were still warm.
Stitch took his arm, helping him to his feet.
“Looks like a massacre,” Bram said, taking it all in. These were the kinds of sights he was going to have to become used to, and for a moment he resented what his father expected from him.
“Did you start the party without us?” Dez asked as he and his dad came into the chamber.
“This certainly is a bit of a mess,” Douglas added.
“It was already like this when we got here,” Bram said. The corpses of dead beasties littered the floor, the walls seared black in places showing signs of powerful magicks unleashed.
“It stinks like something died in here,” Emily said as she stumbled out of the rift, nose squeezed between two fingers. “Oh, wow, I was right,” she added, careful not to step in any puddles of carnage that pooled upon the floor.
Bogey came next, weaving the rifting passage closed behind him.
“So, what did I miss?” he asked, rubbing his hands together as if not noticing a thing.
Bram was about to tell them to check for survivors, when they heard the sound of someone approaching.
There wasn’t room or time enough to hide or weave a cloaking spell, so they all tensed, ready to do whatever was necessary to make their first true mission a success.
Tobias stumbled around the corner, clothing torn and stained with blood.
Stitch brought forth a spell of defense, his large hands crackling with magickal force as he prepared to attack.
“Wait,” Bram told him.
The traitor leaned against the wall, leaving a smear of red as he slid down to the floor.
“I should be surprised,” Tobias said as he saw them, a tired smile on his blood-speckled face. “But I’m not. You are your father’s son.”
He started to cough, his entire body writhing in pain from the simple act.
Bram could tell that he was hurt, and hurt badly. There didn’t seem to
be much fight in him left, and looking around the chamber, he could see why.
“What happened here?” Bram asked.
“Betrayed by the bad guy.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “Can you stand it?” he asked with a chuckle.
Tobias’s face grew suddenly grim, his eyes glazing over, and Bram froze—is the guy dead?
Apparently not.
“They have my sister,” Tobias, still very much alive, then stated.
“Crowley does?” Bram asked. “Why? Did he plan to use her against you or …”
“Against the world,” Tobias said. It seemed to be getting harder for him to speak, and Bram wasn’t sure how much time he had before …
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I. Stupid … I was so stupid. He promised to cure her. I would have done … anything to make her well again.” Tobias looked fiercely into Bram’s eyes. “I would have done anything not to lose her.”
“What was wrong with her?”
Tobias’s sweaty head dropped back against the wall. Bram could see that he was fighting to remain conscious. The others had come closer to hear his words.
“Cursed by rogue witches, given a disease unlike anything ever seen before. The magick builds up inside her … powerful magick. He’s going to use her … use her like a bomb and bring the barriers down.”
A cold finger of dread ran down Bram’s spine as he realized how dire the situation actually was.
The barriers had existed since the beginning of time, walls to keep the myriad realities of magick separated from one another. If the barriers were no more, than there was nothing to prevent the life-forms of the various worlds normally separated by the barriers from crossing over.
And that would be a very bad thing for the human race.
“Where?” Bram demanded, knowing their true mission, knowing that they must stop Crowley before he could carry out his insidious plans. “Where is he planning on doing this?”
The traitor’s head bobbed up and down as unconsciousness, and maybe even death, fought to claim him.
“Tobias, stay with us, where have they taken your sister?”
His eyes had closed, his body limp.
Bram reached out, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Tell me,” he demanded. “If it’s the last thing you do, tell me where they’ve taken her.”
His eyes opened to slits, a fresh trickle of blood leaking down from the corner of his mouth.
“Father,” he whispered.
“Father?” Bram repeated, just to be certain he’d heard Tobias correctly. “You said ‘father’? What does that mean?”
“Son … and … and Holy Ghost. Father, Son, and Holy … Holy Ghost …”
And with those words he was gone, slipping down into unconsciousness.
“Father, Son, and Holy Ghost?” Bram repeated, feeling himself close to panic. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He reached down and slapped the traitor’s face. “Wake up, you have to tell me what it means!”
He shook Tobias roughly, but to little effect.
“You have to tell me what it means.”
It was deathly silent in the chamber until Emily spoke.
“It’s the Trinity,” she said.
They all looked at her.
“The Holy Trinity … Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I went to Catholic school until sixth grade. I know what the Holy Trinity is.”
“But what does Christianity have to do with barriers?” Bram was wracking his memory searching for something … anything that could possibly help.
“This is intense,” Bogey said, black eyes wide. “I can practically smell the brain cells burning.”
“Excuse me,” Douglas said. “But wasn’t the first atomic bomb explosion called the Trinity test?”
“Of course,” Stitch said with a nod. “And where is the weakest point in all the barriers?”
“Good one, Dad,” Desmond said, turning in his chair to give his father a high five.
Bram put it all together.
“Crowley is going to use Tobias’s sister to destroy the weakest point in the barrier at the site of the first atomic bomb test.” He looked at his team.
His Network.
“And we can’t let that happen.”
15.
THE SUN WAS SETTING ON THE OLD WORLD.
Crowley stood out of the way, watching as his minions readied the scarlet crystal for breaching. The specially designed containment shell would act like the outside casing of a bomb, the explosives carefully placed inside in preparation for detonation.
The sorcerer watched through squinted eyes as the glowing ball of orange went down over the horizon. When it rises again in the morning, he thought wistfully, it will shine its light upon a world transformed. And it will be a glorious day indeed.
One of the four dead beasties at his feet started to twitch, followed by another, and then the remaining two were moving as well. He had killed them so the members of the Circle could inhabit their bodies.
“I’ve provided you with a front-row seat,” Crowley said as the four corpses rose.
The Circle stood, admiring the new skin suits that they wore.
“Do you like them?” Crowley asked. “Only the best for my compatriots, and this is just the beginning.”
With eager eyes he watched as his minions slowly hoisted the crystal containing the child, using a system of chains and pulleys. One of the chains suddenly slipped, rattling like old bones in wind, and the fragile case dropped roughly to one side, swinging in the air.
“Carefully, you idiots!” Crowley screamed, envisioning what would happen if the crystal was breached without the proper safeguards.
It would be nothing short of catastrophic.
The beasts corrected their error, reattaching the chain and proceeding with care.
Crowley chuckled, turning to the Circle within their clothes of dead flesh. “It’s so hard to get good help these days,” he said. “But I’m hoping after all is said and done, and the barriers have fallen, we’ll have a whole new class of beastie to chose from.”
The corpse of a trow beast stumbled forward, its large, toothy mouth struggling to wrap itself around the Circle member’s words.
“All … is in … readiness?” it asked, excitement twinkling in its milky, dead eyes.
“It certainly is,” Crowley said. “Now don’t you feel foolish having doubted me?” he asked.
The corpse turned its shaggy head to look at its brethren, the dead bodies of an imp, a grim, and a hobgoblin, waiting to witness the end of humanity.
“There was great doubt whether you … a mere human … could achieve the great heights that you strived for,” the trow said as the Circle member mastered the vocal cords of its new form. The other animated corpses nodded awkwardly in agreement.
“Now you must eat that doubt,” Crowley said with a sneer. He looked back at his workers. The crystal was being lowered into the opening at the top of the detonation casing. “And hopefully it will not cause your stomachs too much distress.”
The monstrous minions overheard his comments and snickered.
“You’ve always underestimated us, haven’t you?” Crowley asked as he watched the chains and rigging being removed from the cocoon.
His confidence was soaring.
The sorcerer looked to the Circle.
“Never believing that humanity could ever be as monstrous as your kind.” Crowley smiled. “I’m a perfect example of how wrong you’ve been.”
“We must admit,” the trow responded, “that your determination to see your own species destroyed … it disturbs even us.”
Crowley turned toward them. After so, so many centuries, he was about to achieve what he had strived for. “Funny thing about us humans,” he said, his spider limbs peeling back layers of the shadow cloth to be seen. “We’re quite tenacious and some of us will do almost anything to attain what we hunger for … even if it means giving up what it is to be human.”
T
he corpses nodded, smiles upon their dead faces. Crowley was pleased to finally see what he had long sought in their eyes.
Respect.
His self-admiration was suddenly interrupted by a commotion amongst the gaggle of beasts, and he watched as they squawked and growled, jumping away as if repelled by something.
“What is the meaning of … ,” he began but never finished, watching as a jagged vertical tear appeared in the air above the platform, and a young man, accompanied by five others, stepped from the opening onto the platform.
The son of Stone and his Brimstone Network.
“Excellent timing, boy,” Crowley said. “You’re just in time to see the final death spasms of an old age, and the dawning of a new.”
The beasties closed in around the five, but strangely enough they didn’t seem all that affected. That was another quality about humanity, Crowley mused. Sometimes they just weren’t smart enough to admit defeat.
“There isn’t going to be any new age,” the young man said with a shake of his head. “Not now, not ever, not as long as we’re alive.”
The monsters began to laugh, looking at the boy’s words as an invitation for slaughter.
“Should we be frightened of you, boy?” Crowley asked. Their laughter was louder now. “You and your friends?”
The son of Elijah Stone slowly nodded, and Crowley noticed that despite his current predicament, the boy was smiling.
“You should be,” he said coldly, just loud enough to be heard over the raucous laughter.
“We’re the Brimstone Network, and I think you know what that means.”
Crowley slowly nodded, understanding perfectly.
Sometimes they just weren’t smart enough to admit defeat.
Bram had hoped it would end easily, that he and the new Network would appear, the villains would recognize the futility of their actions, and surrender.
But sometimes the bad guys just weren’t smart enough to admit they’d lost the fight.
“Any chance of getting some room here, Dez?” Bram called out as the beasties converged, bloodlust in their gaze.
It was as if an invisible bubble of pure force suddenly expanded around them, repelling monsters away, some toppling over the edge of the platform.