Demon Thief by Darren Shan Page B

this. Cadaver could be on almost any of them.
    I’m squatting with the Disciples in a semicircle. We can’t sit down, because of the water. They look tired and upset. Sharmila argued with Beranabus for a long time, insisting he send me back. She said he was irresponsible and vile. He just swore and told her not to tell him his business. He said when she’d lived as long as he had, and seen all the things he’d seen, she could lecture him — but only then.
    I study the Disciples while Beranabus works. Sharmila’s the oldest, fifty or more (though I’m not very good at guessing ages). She has a painted red spot in the middle of her forehead. I should know the name for it, but I can’t remember. Wrinkly skin. Dark, soft eyes. A long sari, many colors, ripped in several places and stained around the edges with blood and dirt.
    Raz is fat and black. His skin’s incredibly dark. If it was night, no moon, and he shut his eyes, he’d be invisible. Tight, curly hair. Not overly tall. Maybe in his thirties. He wears a very fine suit. I think he’s wealthy — he looks like someone who hasn’t worked with his hands a lot. No shoes — none of the Disciples wear shoes or socks.
    Nadia is in her late teens or early twenties. She has short blond hair, blue eyes and very bad skin. Lots of spots and acne scars. A hard, plain face. She wouldn’t be especially pretty even if she had the clearest skin in the world. Plump, but with bony legs and arms. She wears jeans and a dark green top. Looks unhappy, as though she’s suffered a lot.
    Nadia catches me watching her and smiles. Her whole face changes. She looks a lot prettier. “Strange days, huh, Kernel Fleck?”
    “I still don’t understand it all,” I mutter. “Actually, I don’t really understand any of it.”
    Nadia laughs. “At least you’re honest.” She chews a fingernail, considering what to say. Eventually she gestures at the elderly man on his feet. “That’s Beranabus. He’s a magician. There aren’t many of them in the world. Lots of people can do some magic if the situation is right, but only a few are born with full magical powers.”
    “He is our master,” Raz says, gazing at Beranabus adoringly. “He unites us, gives us direction, shows us the way.”
    “He is an egotistical, reckless fool!” Sharmila disagrees, snorting harshly. “He does not care for any person’s life. He claims to be on a greater mission to save the world, but I have my doubts. I do not trust him and I advise you to be cautious also, Kernel.”
    “But isn’t he your leader?” I ask, confused.
    “Yes. But we follow him reluctantly, not out of choice.” She looks at Raz and smiles. “Well, some of us do.”
    Raz and Sharmila start arguing about Beranabus’s faults and strong points. Nadia listens for a while, then shuffles away from them and nods for me to follow.
    “They’re new to this,” she says quietly when we’re out of earshot. “Beranabus has always been a legendary figure to them. They haven’t spent time around him, so they’re not sure how to respond to his... peculiarities. Raz overidolizes him. Sharmila criticizes. But he doesn’t care what people say or think, as long as they obey his orders.”
    “You’ve been with him a long time?” I ask, and she nods. “Is he your father or something?”
    Nadia laughs. “No, he’s just.. .” She pauses and chews another fingernail. “We’ve all been where you are now. Sharmila, Raz and I led normal lives once. We sensed we were different, not completely like other people. But we had families and friends, jobs and dreams. We were ordinary. Happy. Then, one way or another, we found out about the Demonata.”
    “The demons?”
    “Yes. That’s their proper name — Demonata. They exist in a multiworld universe of their own. They’ve been around as long as mankind, maybe longer. Evil, murderous creatures, who revel in torment and slaughter. They try to cross over into our world all the time, but most are