Werewolf Parallel by Roy Gill Read Free Book Online Page B

the matter of my debt to the wolves. I
insist
upon clearing it.”
    Morgan hesitated, but Cameron nodded. “Go on. What’ve we got to lose?”
    The larger boy dug out the bone medallion and handed it over.
    “A long time since I gave this away! Granted to the Were-brothers who founded Ancient Rome, in exchange for Temple rights. No wonder I saw them in you.” Janus studied the disc, lost in remembrance. “Someone values you highly, wolf-boy, to entrust you with this.”
    Cameron frowned, wondering how Morgan had managed to scavenge it from the pack, but Morgan just scratched his hair.
    “What can I say? I’m lovable.”
    “You will both follow me to the inner sanctum.” Janus held one hand aloft and processed in stately strides towards the doorway that led to the next carriage. “Eve may rest here and enjoy the delights of the garden. I grant her full use of it.” His second, snarkier voicefiltered back through the tapestry curtain.
“Don’t feed the cat!”
    As the curtain fluttered closed, Eve let out a long breath. “Well… he was very predictable and reassuring, wasn’t he?”
    “I revise my earlier description,” said Cameron. “He must be God of Mood Swings as well.”
    “Not so loud, he might hear you.” She shot a glance at the tapestry, then turned her attention to the panelled doorway Janus had conjured up. “I wonder where he was going to banish me?”
    “Thrown to the marble lions, I expect.” Morgan gave a mirthless grin. “You ok, kid?”
    “Fine. You two better go, before he changes his mind.”
    The junction between the carriages was open, exposed to the air. Cameron gingerly stepped over the swaying gangway. The room beyond was dim, lit by candles in ornate holders. The roof vanished into the distance, and the space seemed larger than could possibly fit inside a railway carriage. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw the faint outlines of doors floating in the murky atmosphere – doors of every imaginable shape, size and description.
    “What is this place?” he said, watching the drifting shapes.
    “The Temple of the Door, of course.” Janus threw himself onto a golden couch. “Or a portable version of it at least. The original is long lost.”
    “It’s huge!”
    “I borrow the space from human hallways. They’re another part of my domain: all those doors, you see. No one ever seems to notice, even when they start trippingover shoes and umbrellas…” One Janus face gave a self-satisfied grin. The other looked exasperated, and said, “To business. Though I won’t grant the ward, if you cancel my debt, I can give you something much more useful.”
    Morgan folded his arms. “Ward’s pretty useful. What’s better?”
    In answer, Janus reached up, his hand cupped above his head. From every corner of the chamber the floating door outlines rushed and jostled towards him, clustering to touch his outstretched fingers. Suddenly he snatched, as if catching a moth, and the doors vanished into smoke. “I offer you this.” He lowered his fist and opened it, revealing something small and shiny on his palm.
    “A key,” said Cameron. “An ordinary house key…”
    “No. It’s
every
key, distilled from the essence of every door. The Omniclavis! There isn’t a lock it won’t open, not anywhere in the worlds.” Janus held out his hands, the Omniclavis in one, the bone debt in the other. “Well, what’s it to be?”
    Morgan’s eyes shone green. “I reckon we take it. More use than a mouldy old bone…”
    “Then the deal is done!” Janus cried before Cameron could speak, his fist clenching tight around the bone debt. Yellow dust ran through his fingers to the ground. He flung the key in Morgan’s direction, and stretched like a cat. “My debt is cleared. Now pay attention, wolf-boys: three times only the Omniclavis will work – and then it returns to me.”
    “Hold on. You didn’t mention that!” said Cameron.
    “No?” Janus lay back on the couch, affecting a