The Demonata #10: Hell's Heroes by Darren Shan Read Free Book Online Page B

over to the waterfall. I squint at the wall around it. There’s a thin crack that was once much larger. That was where the tunnel would have opened if the demons had been successful.
    “Kernel,” I call. He approaches warily, guided by Kirilli. I gouged out his eyes in a cave. I’m sure he’s thinking about that now, wondering if I plan to slice off any more body parts. “I want to link up with you again. Do I have your
permission
?”
    “You’d do it even if I refused,” Kernel sneers, but sticks out a hand.
    Using the Kah-Gash, I power up, then roar at the cave wall, the same way that I roared at the picture of Lord Loss in the cellar. The rock quivers, like it would in an earthquake. The crack splits further, widening until it’s a six-foot-high chasm. I let the roar die away, and the wall stops shaking, but the gap remains.
    “Do you think this might be part of Bec’s plan?” Kernel asks as I step forward. I freeze and glance back. He’s smiling angelically. This isn’t something he just thought of. He’s been saving it to hit me with at the most distracting moment.
    “What are you talking about?” I snap.
    “Maybe she orchestrated the dream,” he says sweetly. “For all we know, the other lodestones might not be suitable. Maybe they can only manipulate this one, and she needed you to clear the way.”
    I stare hatefully at the bald teenager. Right now, I’m glad I popped his eyes. I just wish I’d ripped his tongue out too.
    “I guarantee one thing,” I say stiffly. “If they attack, and I think all is lost, I’ll toss you to my werewolves before I die.”
    Kernel laughs, then sticks out his hand again. “Lead on, sweet prince.”
    “Get stuffed,” I spit, leaving him for Kirilli. Tensing, I crouch, then jump and grab hold of the bottom of the crack. Dragging myself up, I peer into the darkness. I can’t see or hear anything, but Kernel’s warning has unsettled me, and I stand guard as the others climb, not wanting to venture farther without backup.
    When we’re all gathered in the mouth of the tunnel, we advance. It’s hotter than the cave, and even though it’s wide enough for a couple to walk side by side, I keep imagining the walls grinding shut, pulping us to mincemeat. Kirilli and Kernel are nervous too, while Moe and Curly whine unhappily as they trudge along reluctantly.
    Eventually the tunnel opens out into another cave. There’s a lake of calm, clear water covering most of the floor. In the center stands an island of bones, on top of which rests a large, jagged chunk of rock—the lodestone.
    “I’m not a good swimmer,” Kirilli says uncertainly.
    “I doubt if it’s deep,” I say, striding into the water. Even with my hairy legs, it feels cold.
    “Should we undress?” Kirilli asks.
    “Don’t bother.”
    “But if we have to walk around all night in wet clothes…”
    “You’re a mage,” I remind him. “You can dry them off once we get out.”
    “Oh,” he says brightly. “I forget sometimes.” Chuckling, he leads Kernel into the lake. His chuckles turn to yelps when he feels the icy bite of the water, but he presses on. Curly and Moe start to follow. Then Moe splashes Curly. She yelps and splashes him back. Within moments they’re involved in a water fight, rolling around, wrestling and dunking each other, barking like a pair of puppies.
    I reach the island and climb onto the mound of bones. A brittle skull cracks beneath my feet. I almost apologize, but there’s no point. The person this belonged to passed far beyond the need for apologies centuries before I was born.
    Kernel and Kirilli climb out of the lake as I study the rock in the middle of the bones. It’s rectangular, rough around the edges. A skeleton is propped against it, kneeling, its skull resting on the top. I guess these are the remains of someone whose throat was slit over the rock—lodestones need blood to thrive.
    “What’s it like?” Kernel asks.
    “Nothing special. I’ve seen