Chapter 1

 

The mysterious newcomer to the Nocturnal Academy, Rhys Kelly, found himself in the Nocturnal Academy’s infirmary once more. Only this time he wasn’t a patient. He was here in the capacity of a healer. In front of him, on a narrow bed like the one had occupied, lay a tall, swarthy-skinned youth the lots of thick, curly black hair. He would have been handsome if his face hadn’t been twisted into such a furious scowl. Even though the shaman Star Fang had forced him into a deep coma, from which he couldn’t wake naturally, the darkness within him still managed to contort his features.

The Earth elemental matron had tied him down with thick leather straps, Magickally reinforced to hold unruly weres, just in case. She stood off to one side, watching and making notes on a laptop. Rhys glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’m not sure what Star Fang was thinking. Every Necronite I’ve ever tried to convert I’ve ended up killing.”

The stocky, florid faced Matron Stein looked up. “He couldn’t do it, but seemed to think you could. He has faith in you.”

Rhys looked back down at the youth. There was a dark mark on his forehead, shaped like a bird in flight. It was the Mark of Singularity, a sure sign this boy was a follower of Necronis the Unmaker. Even though the boy was olive skinned, the mark was still horribly black against his skin, almost like it was absorbing light. He was well and truly converted.

You can do it, the voice of Rhys’ soul-brother Kamrys seemed to say inside his mind. I have faith in you too.

Rhys sighed. “Alright – here goes.” He cracked his knuckles and placed both hands on either side of the youth’s head. The lad’s skin felt cold and clammy to the touch, somehow unpleasant to Rhys. He felt like he was touching that vile book, the Necroniad, all over again. Only that book hadn’t technically been alive. This boy was very much so, and even though he was comatose, he still seemed to shift in Rhys’ grip, trying to escape from it. He gave a long, low snarl, like a captive animal.

Rhys focussed on the boy’s mind. He was only human, but someone – probably his dark master – had shown him how to construct a crude mind-shield. However it was rough and full of holes. Rhys slipped through it without even pausing. Beyond lay the mind he’d been expecting – the same shimmering sheet of obsidian that lay inside every Necronite he’d encountered. But the fact this kid was unconscious and restrained meant that Rhys didn’t have to use physical force – the reason why he’d inadvertently killed all the others.

He imagined himself as a brilliant golden light, dawning over the darkness and shining down on it. He imagined the darkness receding from him, baring the thoughts it concealed.

Despite his deeply unconscious state, the boy began to squirm in Rhys’ grasp. Rhys had to tighten his hold. Chunky started to pull against his restraints, and incredibly the leather began to creak ominously. The metal bed-frame squeaked in protest.

Matron Stein couldn’t believe her senses. Was this ordinary human boy going to pull himself free? He would probably snap all his bones in the process! She put down her tablet and hurried over to lend a hand. As she held the kid down she could feel his wiry, alien strength. He was putting everything he had into resisting.

The evil of Necronis slashed and clawed at Rhys as he forged his way forward through Chunky’s mind. He imagined himself filling the boy’s entire brain; not just his surface thoughts but the subconscious as well. He drove down as far as he could, into every nook and cranny, just in case some tiny shred dared to remain, to start anew another day.

Spittle started to spray from Chunky’s lips. The foulest, most incredible curses escaped him. Star Fang’s coma was well and truly broken.

“I don’t believe it!” Matron Stein cried. “He’s not a supernatural – just a normal human boy – but he’s as strong as a werewolf!”

“It’s Necronis’ doing!” Rhys gritted out. “He doesn’t want to leave!” Sweat started to bead all over his body, and he could feel his hands shaking. Was this what his soul-brother Kamrys did every day? Rhys felt like he was running a marathon.

He hated marathons.

He continued to flood the boy’s mind and body with everything he had, filling him from head to toe with brilliant golden light. As Chunky squirmed and swore, Rhys heard Necronis swearing in his mind. He realised the kid was so strong because the Dark God, peering out through the breach at the back of the Immaterium, was lending him his strength.

But Rhys had many more years of experience than the sixteen year-old boy. Even though he was well and truly lost, as they said, in the dark embrace of Necronis the Unmaker, he had only been a full convert since the age of 13. And back then he hadn’t really understood what he was doing, only that he liked all the promises of power and glory.

Rhys was able to flush every last particle of Necronis from him. Suddenly the tensed kid collapsed on the bed, gasping for air. Rhys fell back in his chair to catch his own breath. He may have eaten a fairly large breakfast, but he was once again ravenous. Stupid carbon-based food, he thought darkly. Simply not enough energy in it.

Matron Stein straightened and checked Chunky all over, making sure he hadn’t torn any muscles or broken any bones. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But he appears to be alright.”

“Give me a sec,” croaked Rhys. “I’ll check his mind again, make sure no malevolent influences remain.” He touched Chunky’s temples again. The kid’s skin still felt clammy, but no longer unpleasant to the touch. A good sign. Rhys slid through the wreckage of his shields and looked into his mind.

The obsidian shield of Necronis was gone, and in its place swam the confused, dreamy, surface-thoughts of a 13 year-old boy. At first Rhys wondered what he’d done wrong. Wasn’t Chunky sixteen? Then he realised – the boy remembered nothing of his time as a Necronite. Unlike his brother, whose mind had been wiped completely, Chunky had only lost three years. He would be able to recover fairly quickly.

Rhys performed a quick mental scan, searching for darkness, but found nothing. He had done it! He had saved a soul from Necronis! He removed his hands from Chunky’s temples and focussed on him with his normal sight.

The boy blinked up at him. “Wh…where am I?’

“Er, this is a hospital,” Rhys answered. “I’m … er, Doctor Kelly and this is Nurse Stein.” He gestured to her.

Slowly the boy sat up, rubbing his forehead. “Oh man – my head is killing me. What happened? Was I in an accident or something?”

“Something like that.” Rhys wondered what he was allowed to tell him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I’m supposed to be on a school excursion to the Old Cider Factory! A bunch of us were gonna re-enact the summoning ceremony that old William Edgar Holloway used just before he disappeared!”

“Oh,” said Rhys.

“Ah,” said Matron Stein. “Yes, well – I’ll just call Madam Nocturna and let her know Charles is alright,” she said quickly. “Rhys, since your work here is done, you might as well go.”

“Sure – of course.” Rhys got up, groaning with the effort it took. He hadn’t been awake long, and already felt like going back to bed. Weren’t they going to travel into the Immaterium tonight?

Rhys headed out into the hall to gather his thoughts. Upon his return to the Nocturnal Academy after the harrowing battle at the Old Cider Factory, he’d decided his best option was to put himself into a metabolic coma to recover from all the stress he’d gone through. He’d felt fine upon waking, but now he wanted another rest. Maybe I can bludge some more food from the kitchen, he thought as he headed down there.

He managed to get a ham, cheese and salad sandwich , and was happily chomping through it when the Nocturnal Academy’s principal, the vampire lady Madam Nocturna, appeared in the hall, accompanied by the Vice Principal, the cyborg Professor Abbacus.

“Good job removing the Necronis’ influence from that boy, Rhys,” the tall, middle-aged headmistress told him. “Star Fang was right – he knew you had it in you.”

Rhys flipped a hand. “No problem. That’s what I’m here for. Apparently. So what’ll happen to him now?”

“We may have to keep him here for a while. He might have forgotten his time as a Necronite, but now he has the brain of a 13 year-old in a 16-year old’s body. He can’t be reunited with his brother because he was wiped completely and is now on his way to Sydney.”

“Does he have any parents?”

Madam Nocturna shook her head. “No, his older brother was his legal guardian. I may have to arrange for him to be fostered by someone in town. He’ll also have to go back to school.” She sighed. “But they’re jobs for another time. Are you in any condition to come with us for a little recce around the Old Cider Factory? To check if any thin places have reopened during the day?”

Rhys wolfed down the rest of his sammy. “Sure, no problem.”

 

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