Daemons Are Forever

“So…why can’t we use the Rainbow Run, instead of the Damnation Way?” I said.

Molly and Subway Sue looked at each other. “Because we don’t know how to find it,” Molly said quietly. “We’re not…good enough, pure enough.”

“The Damnation Way is the underside, the dark reflection of the Rainbow Run,” said Subway Sue. “The other face of some unimaginable coin.”

“Look,” said Molly. “Forget the spiritual crap, and keep it simple. The Many-Angled Ones, the Hungry Gods, come from a higher dimension, right? Well, if there are higher dimensions than ours, then it stands to reason that there must also be lesser, lower dimensions. The broken universes, where natural laws never really got their act together. The Damnation Way can take us through one such world. And you don’t run there, you walk. For as long as it takes. This isn’t about speed, it’s about stamina.”

I could feel myself scowling. No one else was saying anything. They were all looking at me. “We really don’t have a lot of time,” I said. “Truman’s tower is pretty much complete, and probably activating even as we speak. The Hungry Gods could come through any time now.”

“And you have no other means of getting into Truman’s base,” said Molly. “His defences will keep out anything, except the Damnation Way.”

“Time means something different in the lower universes,” said Subway Sue. “Theoretically, we should emerge inside Truman’s base at exactly the same moment as we leave here.”

I could feel my scowl deepening. “Yeah, that worked out really well with the Time Train…”

“That was science; this is magic,” Molly said quickly. “The Damnation Way follows ancient laws, written into the bedrock of reality itself.”

“Oh…what the hell,” I said. I had to stop scowling because it was making my head hurt. “We have to get to the tower, and I don’t see any other way.” I looked at the others: Mr. Stab and the Sarjeant-at-Arms and Giles Deathstalker. “Given the… uncertain nature of what we’re about to do, I don’t feel right about ordering you to join me. I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think I had to. So this is strictly volunteers only. Anyone wants to say no, or even Hell no, I quite understand.” I looked from face to face, but they all stared calmly back. Giles looked ready for action, as always, the Sarjeant looked ready for a fight, and Mr. Stab…looked like he always looked.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Time to save the world, again.”

To enter the Damnation Way, it turned out, you have to go down. All the way down. Molly and Subway Sue worked old magic together, swaying and chanting in tongues inside a chalked circle. The Armourer watched closely, fascinated. Giles Deathstalker watched with a curled lip, as though he didn’t really expect anything to happen. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but even so I was startled when a standard, very ordinary elevator rose calmly up out of the floor in front of Sue and Molly. The thing pinged importantly to a

Martha glared at the elevator that had just appeared inside her nice normal War Room. “Why didn’t that…thing set off any of our alarms?”

“Because it’s not really here, as such,” said Molly. “I mean, it’s a magical construct that just looks like an elevator because that’s a concept our limited minds can cope with.”

“Your senses aren’t equipped to recognise things like this,” said Subway Sue. “So they show you…the nearest equivalent.”

“Right!” said Molly. “This is really old magic, remember, Wild Magic, from when we all lived in the forest.”

“I still don’t see why it has to look like an elevator,” I said, just a bit sulkily, feeling way out of my depth.

“Group mind consensus,” Molly said briskly. “Be grateful. It could have come as an escalator. Hate those things.”

I sighed, deeply and meaningfully, and stepped cautiously inside the elevator. The steel floor was firm under my feet, and the mirrored walls showed I was scowling again. I tried hard not to, in case it upset the troops. They followed me in, with various amounts of confidence, and when we were all in we filled the damn thing from wall to wall, with hardly any room to move, unless one of us breathed in to make a bit of space. Molly made a point of pressing her breasts against my chest, for which I was quietly grateful. The doors closed unhurriedly, and without any instruction or warning, the elevator started down.

We seemed to descend for a long, long time. I could feel the movement, sense it in my bones and in my water, even though the elevator made no sound and had no controls or indicators. It grew slowly hotter inside the elevator, until we were all sweating profusely and trying unsuccessfully to back away from each other. And then the heat just vanished, gone in a moment, and the temperature in the confined space plummeted, growing colder and colder, until our breath steamed on the air and we all huddled together to share our body warmth. And then that was gone too, and I felt neither hot nor cold, as though we had left such things behind us.

Then, the sounds. From outside the steel walls came noises, from far away at first, then drawing inexorably closer. Roars of rage, howls and screams, and something very like laughter, but not quite. Basic, primal emotions given voice, without the burden or restraint of conscious thought. The horrid empty voices we hear in childhood nightmares, from things we know would hurt us, if they could only find us… The voices sank into words, and that was worse, as though plague or fate or evil had learned to talk. They circled the descending elevator, coming at us from this side and that, rushing in and falling back, threatening and pleading, mocking and begging, trying to persuade us to open the elevator doors and let them in. I can’t remember exactly what they said, and I’m glad.

Some of us tried putting our hands over our ears, to keep the voices out, but it didn’t work. We weren’t hearing them with our ears.

We left the voices behind, their cheated screams receding into the distance, and after that there was only silence, and the descent, and the feeling of something really bad drawing slowly closer. At the end, there was no sensation of stopping. The elevator doors just slid open, without cause or warning, and the standard colourless light spilled out onto a terrible darkling plain. None of us moved. It didn’t feel safe. What we could see of the world outside was dark and dismal, the only light a deep dull purple, like a bruise. I moved reluctantly forward, stepping out of the elevator, and one by one the others followed me. A terrible, grinding oppression fell across me the moment I left the comfortingly normal light of the elevator, as though I was suddenly carrying all the troubles of the world on my shoulders. There was no sound anywhere, as such, but something like an unending roll of thunder growled in the air, like a long bass note you could only hear with your soul, like a threatened storm you somehow knew had been on its way forever.

We all stood together, keeping close just for the comfort of living company in the face of this dead or dying world. We didn’t belong in a place like this, and we all knew it. And then the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the bright, healthy light, and we all spun around just in time to see the elevator disappearing down into the cracked stone ground; leaving us alone in the awful place it had brought us to. A purple stained plain that seemed to stretch away forever in whatever direction I looked.

It felt…like the end of the world. A darkling plain under an endless night. Up above, a bloodred moon hung low in the sky, where one by one the stars were going out. Already there were great dark gaps in the unfamiliar constellations. The endless plain was bare stone, marked here and there with huge craters, long jagged cracks, and deep crevices. Like the bottom of the ocean, after all the seas have boiled away. There was a crevice nearby, a long jagged line with crumbling edges. I moved over to it and stared down into the gap. It seemed to just fall away forever. I made some kind of sound, and Molly was quickly there to take my arm and pull me back from the edge. As though the sound of my voice had triggered something, strange twisting vegetation, rough creepers with huge dark leaves covered with pulsing red veins, curled slowly up out of the crevice. Molly and I backed away, and the twitching plants tried to follow us, but already they were rotting and falling apart. Alive and dying at the same time, as though they hadn’t developed enough to hold a form properly.