Everyone’s staring at me. I feel like an exhibit at a freak show. Roll up! Roll up! Come and marvel at Kernel Fleck, thief of demons, master of disguise! He can hide a demon from everybody— even himself!

“So I never had a brother,” I whisper. “It was all a lie.”

“A dream,” Lord Loss corrects me. “And now you have awoken, thanks to my generous help.”

“Some help!” Dervish snorts. “You could have just told him.”

“That would have been cheating,” Lord Loss says. “He had to discover the truth himself—or search for it in vain for the rest of his life. I would have been happy either way. The misery of his ignorance would have been sweet. But the misery of his understanding is just as welcome.”

“What misery?” Shark asks. “He beat you. He found out the truth.”

“And lost a brother in the process,” Sharmila says softly, as I weep quietly.

“But he never had a brother,” Shark says. “It was a sham, a cuckoo’s child.”

“But Kernel thought it was real.” Sharmila frees herself from Beranabus’ grip, walks over and lays a hand on my shoulder. Squeezes gently.

“What now?” Beranabus asks, businesslike, no longer interested in the mystery of the theft or the illusion. “Are we free to leave?”

“Of course,” Lord Loss says. “Cornelius fulfilled the terms of our agreement. He discovered the true thief and named him. You can depart whenever you like.” He looks around absent-mindedly. “Cadaver seems to have slipped away while we were otherwise involved, but I am sure you can track him down again.”

“Then let’s go,” Beranabus says. “We’ve wasted enough time on this farce.”

“Shut up, you stupid, thoughtless man!” Sharmila shouts, surprising us all. She glowers at Beranabus, then strokes the back of my neck. “There is the matter of Kernel’s brother to settle.”

“Brother?” Beranabus huffs. Sharmila points at the child on Lord Loss’ knee. “But that’s just a demon made up to look like a boy.”

“Yes. But he has been Kernel’s brother for the past year. And I suspect, by the smile of his master, he can be again. If Kernel so wishes.”

Lord Loss laughs hollowly. “You have a sharp eye, Miss Mukherji.” He holds Art—Artery—up with four of his hands. The baby giggles and tries to bite off one of the demon master’s fingers. “Artery is precious to me, but he has been equally precious to Cornelius. I am not evil-hearted—I have no heart, either evil or good—so I am willing to let my familiar go. If Kernel wishes to take him, I will not stand in his way.”

I slowly look up. “I can have Art back? He can be my brother again?”

“If you want,” Lord Loss smiles.

I stare at the demon master, then at Art, grinning at me over the lumpy fingers. He looks no different than he did the day Cadaver took him. Why shouldn’t I take him home as my brother, carry on with life and try to forget that this mad period of time ever happened?

“What would he be like when he grew up?” Dervish asks.

“Can one ever judge how a child will grow up?” Lord Loss says slyly.

“You know what I mean. Right now he likes biting people. Will he want to do worse things when he’s older? Will he be more demon than human? A man on top, a monster beneath?”

“What a way you have with words.” Lord Loss shrugs. “I think the true Artery will shine through. Cornelius has the power to shackle him, but not rid him of his origins. He’ll want to do terrible things, and will probably find a way to act on his desires. But he will never harm Cornelius, of that I am certain.”

Dervish comes over to stand beside Sharmila. He looks at me seriously. “It’s your call, Kernel, but I don’t think you should take him back. You’ve seen the way demons behave. You couldn’t change him.”

“I could try!” I cry. “If I can change his shape, why not his heart?”

“Demons don’t experience emotions like we do,” Beranabus says softly. “Sometimes they give the impression that they can feel as we feel, care as we care. But they’re monsters, all of them. It’s their nature. We cannot alter that.”

I’m crying hard. I look at Art again, wanting so much to hold him, play with him, grow up with him. It’s not fair, having to choose. I’d have been happier if I’d never had a brother. To have him for a year… to come through so much to find him… only to be faced with this… having to go back to the loneliness… tell Mum and Dad I couldn’t protect him…

“Maybe I don’t care if he kills!” I shout. “Maybe I just don’t want to be lonely anymore, and having a brother matters to me more than anything else. What if that’s the case?

Beranabus sniffs. “Then good luck to you. Just don’t call on my Disciples when the bodies start mounting up. And you might want to tell your parents to stay out of Art’s way. They should be safe on the other side of the world.”

I howl at Beranabus, Dervish, Lord Loss, Art—the entire world and all the worlds beyond. I hate this universe, both universes, life itself. I wish I could destroy it all, the whole damn lot of it, myself as well. One burst of almighty energy and—bang! No more worries or pain.

Then I catch sight of Lord Loss smirking. And Art, smiling innocently, just the slightest twinkle of wickedness in the corner of his eye. I think about Mum and Dad, how they loved me and gave up everything, risking imprisonment and who knows what else, to protect my dark secret and keep me happy. Sure, they did it for themselves too, but I think—believe—they mostly did it for my sake.

And I know I can’t do this to them. I can’t take a demon in human form into their home and leave it free to strike. I’d be as demonic as Lord Loss if I did that.

“To hell with your rotten familiar!” I moan, turning my back on Lord Loss and the baby-shaped demon. Tears overwhelm me and the world becomes a watery, salty sea. I’m aware of Sharmila hugging me tight, leading me away, the others solemnly following. Lord Loss says something, mocking my misery, but we ignore him. Pass out of the main room, through the other webby chambers, past the room of chess sets, to the drawbridge. Where we pause, just a moment. And I hear, during a gulp between sobs, from deep within the castle, one final childish giggle from the demon Artery—my lost never-brother, Art.

GOODBYES

Outside the castle. At the point where we entered this world. Beranabus claps my back and says, “Let’s go find Cadaver.” Sharmila groans. Dervish looks at Beranabus as if he has two heads. Even Shark fidgets as though a terrible curse had been uttered. “What?” Beranabus snaps, frowning at his Disciples. “We have to capture him, squeeze out whatever he knows about the Kah-Gash. That’s what we came here for.”

“It is over,” Sharmila says. “Nadia was wrong about the Kah-Gash. Or we already came upon it and failed to recognise it. Either way, Cadaver’s real purpose was to bring Kernel into this universe, so he could learn the truth about the theft. Now it is time for him to return to his parents and—”

“No!” Beranabus shouts. “His brother never mattered. This is about the Kah-Gash and always has been.”

“To you, perhaps,” Dervish says softly. “But not to Kernel. And not, I think, to the rest of us. Sharmila’s right—it’s over.

Beranabus glares at us. An angry red flush creeps up his neck. He starts to say something but Shark steps forward, halting him. “I’ll serve if you want me. If you think I can help you find this demon-destroying weapon, I’m yours for life. But I doubt I’ll make a difference. I don’t think any of us will. I agree with Dervish—this was about Kernel and his search. That’s what brought us here. It doesn’t seem like much, and it’s crazy that Raz and Nadia had to die because of it—but that’s life.”

Beranabus growls. “Think you’re smarter than me, do you?”

“No. But I can see the truth when it’s sitting before me plain as day. I don’t know anything about the Kah-Gash. Maybe you’ll find it later, maybe you won’t. Maybe Cadaver can lead you to it, maybe he can’t. But it’s time to let Kernel go. He doesn’t belong here. He’s not part of this. Not anymore.”