are rules where magic’s concerned, but those rules can be bent. Anything’s possible with magic, even the supposedly and logically
im
possible.
“The other demons who cross are nowhere near as powerful as Lord Loss,” Dervish continues. We drive back the lesser specimens, but we leave the stronger demons alone and just try to limit the damage.”
“You let them get away with it?” I cry. “You let them kill?”
Dervish lowers the mug. It’s not as heartless as it sounds. There’s far less magic in our universe than theirs. When they cross, they’re nowhere near as powerful as they are in their own realm. And most can only stay here for a few minutes. Occasionally a window will remain open longer, for an hour or two, but that’s rare. Thankfully. Because if they could cross with all their powers intact, and stay as long as they liked, we’d have been wiped out long ago.
“We stop maybe half of all potential crossings,” Dervish goes on. “Which is pretty good when you consider how few of us there are. Although we’re only talking six or seven attempts to cross in any given year.”
“So three or four get through?” I ask.
“More or less. We aren’t always there when one crosses. When we are . . .” He sighs. “If it’s a weaker demon, we try to drive it back. Usually a single Disciple will engage it, occasionally a pair. We don’t like to risk too many in any single venture.”
“And when you don’t think you can stop it?” I ask quietly.
Dervish looks away. “A demon will normally kill no more than ten or twenty people when it crosses.”
“Still!” I protest. “Ten
people,
Dervish! Ten
lives
!”
“What do you want us to do?” he snaps. “There are battles we can’t win. We do what we can — we can’t do any more. We’re not bloody superheroes!”
“Sure,” I say quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound critical. I just...”
“I know,” he mutters. “When I first heard about the Disciples, I was like you. I didn’t want to admit the possibility of defeat, or make concessions. But when you see enough people die, you realize life’s not like the movies or comics. You can’t save everyone. It’s not an option.”
Dervish falls silent. We never talked much about his past. To be honest, with all the problems I’ve faced over the last couple of years, I haven’t had time to think about anybody else’s troubles. But now that I consider it, I realize my uncle must have seen a lot of bad stuff in his time. We got lucky against Lord Loss. We beat him at his own game and walked away relatively unharmed. But Dervish told me there are more failures than successes when humans battle demons. And if he’s been around for even a few failures... seen people die like I saw my parents and sister die... had to stand by and let it happen because he didn’t have the power to stop it...
“I’m telling you this because of Davida Haym,” Dervish says, interrupting my thoughts. “I went through her DVD earlier. From the outline it sounds like fun — demons run wild and take over a town — but I don’t like it. The few demons she described are
very
realistic. She mentions rituals you can use to summon them. She’s gathered information cleverly but I don’t think she knows how dangerous that information is.
“I’m going to accept her offer to work on set as an adviser. I want to make sure she doesn’t accidentally summon a demon or supply others with the means to. The chances of that happening are slim, and in the normal run of things I wouldn’t bother with her.
“But I need to get away from here for a while.” His eyes are dark, haunted. “I haven’t been the same since I came back. The nightmares... fear... confusion. Maybe my brain will never properly recover, and I’m doomed to live like this until I die. But I’m hoping I can shrug it off. I’ve been living the quiet life — too quiet. I need something to focus my attention. A challenge. Something to sweep
im
possible.
“The other demons who cross are nowhere near as powerful as Lord Loss,” Dervish continues. We drive back the lesser specimens, but we leave the stronger demons alone and just try to limit the damage.”
“You let them get away with it?” I cry. “You let them kill?”
Dervish lowers the mug. It’s not as heartless as it sounds. There’s far less magic in our universe than theirs. When they cross, they’re nowhere near as powerful as they are in their own realm. And most can only stay here for a few minutes. Occasionally a window will remain open longer, for an hour or two, but that’s rare. Thankfully. Because if they could cross with all their powers intact, and stay as long as they liked, we’d have been wiped out long ago.
“We stop maybe half of all potential crossings,” Dervish goes on. “Which is pretty good when you consider how few of us there are. Although we’re only talking six or seven attempts to cross in any given year.”
“So three or four get through?” I ask.
“More or less. We aren’t always there when one crosses. When we are . . .” He sighs. “If it’s a weaker demon, we try to drive it back. Usually a single Disciple will engage it, occasionally a pair. We don’t like to risk too many in any single venture.”
“And when you don’t think you can stop it?” I ask quietly.
Dervish looks away. “A demon will normally kill no more than ten or twenty people when it crosses.”
“Still!” I protest. “Ten
people,
Dervish! Ten
lives
!”
“What do you want us to do?” he snaps. “There are battles we can’t win. We do what we can — we can’t do any more. We’re not bloody superheroes!”
“Sure,” I say quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound critical. I just...”
“I know,” he mutters. “When I first heard about the Disciples, I was like you. I didn’t want to admit the possibility of defeat, or make concessions. But when you see enough people die, you realize life’s not like the movies or comics. You can’t save everyone. It’s not an option.”
Dervish falls silent. We never talked much about his past. To be honest, with all the problems I’ve faced over the last couple of years, I haven’t had time to think about anybody else’s troubles. But now that I consider it, I realize my uncle must have seen a lot of bad stuff in his time. We got lucky against Lord Loss. We beat him at his own game and walked away relatively unharmed. But Dervish told me there are more failures than successes when humans battle demons. And if he’s been around for even a few failures... seen people die like I saw my parents and sister die... had to stand by and let it happen because he didn’t have the power to stop it...
“I’m telling you this because of Davida Haym,” Dervish says, interrupting my thoughts. “I went through her DVD earlier. From the outline it sounds like fun — demons run wild and take over a town — but I don’t like it. The few demons she described are
very
realistic. She mentions rituals you can use to summon them. She’s gathered information cleverly but I don’t think she knows how dangerous that information is.
“I’m going to accept her offer to work on set as an adviser. I want to make sure she doesn’t accidentally summon a demon or supply others with the means to. The chances of that happening are slim, and in the normal run of things I wouldn’t bother with her.
“But I need to get away from here for a while.” His eyes are dark, haunted. “I haven’t been the same since I came back. The nightmares... fear... confusion. Maybe my brain will never properly recover, and I’m doomed to live like this until I die. But I’m hoping I can shrug it off. I’ve been living the quiet life — too quiet. I need something to focus my attention. A challenge. Something to sweep
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