It's strange, trying to settle back into everyday life, not telling anyone about Slawter, acting like normal people who've merely survived a very human tragedy. Bill-E and I lie to our friends, make up stories about the filming, describe the fire and how we were lucky to escape. Not a word about demons.
Bill-E stays with us the first few nights, despite the objections of Ma and Pa Spleen. Nightmares galore, both of us. Remembering. Screaming. Crying. Talking with each other and Dervish, trying to cope. Ironically-considering how this all started-Dervish sleeps like a baby. The confrontation with evil was a tonic for him. It blew the cobwebs from his head, helped him out of the bad patch he'd been stuck in. The fighting, the cover-up, getting in touch with the other Disciples, discussing ways to keep the truth secret... All of that was nectar to my uncle. It fired up his engines. He was in his element dealing with the demonic fallout. I'm not saying he enjoyed it, but he needed it. That's his real work.
I wish it was so easy for me, that I could go off, find a demon, have a scrap, purge myself of the bad memories and fears. But I took nothing positive out of what happened in Slawter. I'm just disgusted, tired and afraid. I'm sure it will be years before I can sleep properly. If ever.
But the show must go on. The charade has to be maintained. So Bill-E returns to Ma and Pa Spleen. We go back to school. We force ourselves to focus on homework, friends, sports, TV, music, day-to-day life. We pretend that's all there is to the world, that there's nothing more frightening in life than a surprise test or saying something stupid in front of your friends and having them laugh at you.
And sometimes-just sometimes-I almost believe it, and for a little while I forget about Lord Loss, Davida Haym, Bo Kooniart, Emmet, the demons, the dead. And life is the way it should be, like it is for most people. But the sensation never lasts. It can't. Because I know the truth. I've seen behind the curtain of reality. I know that monsters are hiding underneath a billion beds across the world. And I know that sometimes... more often than we imagine... they come out.
"Time for that talk."
We've been home for nearly three weeks. I'm in the TV room, some comedy show playing on the big screen, not really concentrating. When Dervish sits beside me and speaks, I'm not sure what he's talking about. Then, as he switches off the TV, I remember. In the middle of the madness he said that if we got out alive, we'd have to have a chat about my magical prowess.
"You were amazing in Slawter," Dervish says. "Magic was pumping through you and you had complete control over it."
"I just tapped into the power in the air," I shrug uneasily. "No biggie."
Dervish smiles. "Modesty's becoming, but let's not bull ourselves-you were on fire. You did things I can't even comprehend. When I was fighting Lord Loss, I noticed some of the demons trying to get through the hole in the barrier. You kept them back. How?"
"I established a second barrier around the hole. Demons couldn't get through it but humans could."
Dervish chuckles. "Do you realise how difficult that is? I couldn't do it. Even when I was in Lord Loss' realm, at my most powerful, I couldn't have pulled off something like that. I don't know many who could."
"It wasn't like I planned it," I say, for some reason feeling edgier the more he praises me. "I reacted to what was going on around me. The magic told me what to do. I wasn't in control. I couldn't do any of it again. I don't even remember most of what I did."
Dervish studies me closely, his expression serious. I sense his reluctance to continue-and with a jolt, I guess the reason why and instantly understand why I've been so nervous.
"The Disciples are few in number," Dervish says quietly. "We're always on the lookout for new recruits, but most mages never realise their magical potential. It lies dormant unless they have an encounter with the Demonata. Even then there's no guarantee that it will develop, that we'll be able to make use of them."
"No," I say softly.
Dervish frowns. "I haven't asked you anything."
"I know what's coming. And the answer's no. Please don't ask me." I look away, trembling, fighting hard not to cry. "I hate it, Dervish-the demons, the battles, the madness. I don't want to face Lord Loss or anything like him again. I don't want to become a Disciple."
A lengthy silence. Finally Dervish sighs. "I'd spare you if I could. But there are so few of us and we're so limited. From what I saw in Slawter, you could be one of the most powerful Disciples ever. You might even..." He clears his throat. "You might even be a true magician. Like Bartholomew Garadex."
"No way!" I cry. "You told me I wasn't. You said magicians are born that way, that their powers are obvious from birth."
"I know. But the way you handled yourself... Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there are late-developing magicians. But even if you're not a magician," he says quickly as I start to protest, "you are part of the world of magic. No normal person could have done what you did. You have a very powerful, important talent and it would be a crime to deny it. I know you don't want to involve yourself with the Disciples, but you have to. Some of us believe that the universe creates champions, that a few humans in each generation are given the gift of magic in order to protect this world from the Demonata. If you've been chosen by the universe..." He smiles shakily. "You can't say no to a calling like that, can you?"
"Just watch me," I snap.
Dervish's expression darkens. "You're acting like a child."
"Well, duh! Haven't you noticed? I am a child! Big for my age, but don't let size fool you. Try me again when I'm old enough to vote."
"I can't wait that long," Dervish says. "Magic must be nurtured. Every day we hesitate is a day wasted. When you face your next demon, you might-"
"There won't be a next!" I shout. "Weren't you listening? I don't want to join your band of do-gooding Disciples! I said NO!"
"Unacceptable," Dervish replies flatly. "You have a responsibility. I know it's hard-I've gone through it myself-but you have to be who you are."
"You don't know anything!" I hiss. "You didn't lose your family to demons. You didn't have to fight Lord Loss when you were my age. You haven't felt the terror of... of..." I'm breathing hard, hands clenched, tears in my eyes.
"You can't let fear rule your life," Dervish says. "Everyone's afraid when they face a demon. We learn to mask our fear, but it's always there, chewing away at us. Fear... doubt... wishes that we weren't magical, that we didn't have this cross to bear. I can help you overcome that fear. I can show you the way."
I stare at him heavily. There's no point arguing. He really doesn't understand. I'm not just afraid-I'm horrified. In Slawter I did what I had to. It was an unreal situation and I had no choice but to let the magic wash through me and use it to fight my way out. But I hated the whole experience and I've no desire to repeat it. I'm through with the universe of demons. I've done more than my fair share. Got the better of them-and saved lives-twice. That's enough.