A Hero at the End of the World (25 page)

“What about it
emitting evil
?” Archie demanded.

“I didn’t really think about it at the time,” Ewan snapped. “It’s not as if I go round picking up objects and saying, ‘Is that evil I see?’ I just nicked it and ran.”

As the words left Ewan’s mouth, the Baahl’s faint shimmer turned into a real radiance. Archie made a terrified-sounding noise and shoved it into Oliver’s hands. Despite the heat Oliver could feel emanating from it, it was surprisingly cold to the touch, almost cold enough to burn. It was much heavier than he had expected, and he could feel gears whirring inside.

“What a strange device,” he murmured to himself.

The door slammed opened. Sophie burst into the cottage, looking frantic. “Oliver, I know what Lady Gardener Hobbes’ plan is,” she said. She was shivering so hard that her voice caught. “She’s going to use you to activate the Baahl, because she can’t do it herself. There’s a chapter in
The Void
about binding mechanisms to—oh.”

Everyone looked down at the glowing ball in Oliver’s hands, and then at each other.

“Oops,” said Oliver.

“You’re all idiots,” Sophie declared.

Chapter 25

T
he universe exploded. It was the second-worst day of Ewan’s life. When Ewan came to, the first thing he became conscious of was that he was lying on his side, his cheek pressed against a cold, hard surface. The next was that he had a tremendous headache and a dry mouth. Groaning, he rolled onto his back; his head swum with the motion, leaving him nauseated.

He had no idea how long he had been unconscious. The one thing he did know, however, was that he was no longer in the Shetland Islands. For one thing, the moorlands weren’t hard and flat. For another, they didn’t smell like vanilla candles.

From somewhere to his left, someone groaned. “Are we dead?” Oliver asked. There was an echo behind his voice. “Blimey, I think we’re in Valhalla,” moaned Archie. “You’ve killed us, Abrams.” “I don’t
feel
dead,” Sophie said. “But if we’re in Valhalla, that’s not much in the way of evidence, is it?”

Ewan cracked an eye open. At first, all he saw was a hazy, colorful blur. But then the world came into focus, and he recognized that he was staring up at a tall, vaulted ceiling. The side panels running down to the tops of the windows were painted dark blue with tiny pinpricks of stars, but the center contained a series of beautiful murals. Each scene seemed to center around a particular beautiful, blonde-haired woman—

He bolted upright into a seated position. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other three turn to stare at him.

“I don’t think this is Valhalla,” Ewan said slowly, pointing.

The four of them were huddled on the marble floor of a long hall of columns of arches. Blue and gold spiraled up the columns and disappeared into the ceiling. The only light came from a few lit candelabras, but the colorful murals, with their heavily gilded molding, made the room seem brighter than it was. At the end of the hall, under a red canopy, sat two golden thrones that were in the same style as the one that had been in Duff Slan’s great hall five years ago.

Ewan’s blood ran cold. He reached up and wrapped his hand around his totem.

“You’re right, we’re still in Middangeard,” a familiar and frightening voice called from behind them. “Welcome to the Tower of London, my dears.”

Louise Gardener Hobbes walked between them. Perched on her head, on top of her usual bun, was a glittering crown of diamonds and rubies. The skirt of her long, lilac gown trailed behind her. It gently brushed Ewan’s hand, and he jerked back. He glanced over at the others. Oliver’s face was set, anger behind his eyes; Sophie seemed calculating, her eyes darting round, cataloguing everything; and Archie looked like he was about to be sick with fear.

Oliver reacted first. “This isn’t the Tower.”

“Yeah,” Ewan agreed shakily, “I’ve been to the Tower before, and it’s a dull old castle.”

“Don’t be silly,” Louise chided. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she turned to face them. “I’ve redecorated. Torn down some walls, had a few new buildings built...” She gestured upwards. “Some paintings commissioned...”

“Is that you in the Birth of Venus?” Archie asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“What have you done?” Sophie demanded. Her voice was strong, but she gulped for air, divulging her worry.

“Oh, hello, Agent Stuart,” Louise replied. “I didn’t expect to see you here. My son never mentioned you.”

“We just met,” said Archie.

“I do hope you don’t unexpectedly turn out to be the one fatal flaw in my plan,” Louise mused. “Oh well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She smirked at Ewan, and a trickle of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “And hello to you, too, Ewan. You weren’t expecting to see me again, were you?”

“Are—are you going to kill me?” Ewan stammered.

“Why do you always think I want to murder someone?”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“Why are we here?” Sophie cut in.

Louise finally dragged her gaze away from Ewan and settled on her.

“I know why,” Oliver said ominously. He raised his chin. “It’s because... she wanted us here.”

“Oh, well spotted,” Archie muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands.

Oliver glowered at him. “What I mean is—”

Oliver sounded so stupidly sure of himself that Ewan’s temper flared. “Shut up, you wanker,” he barked. Oliver’s head snapped around, his mouth falling open. “You don’t know
anything
. If you did, you wouldn’t have led her straight to me. This is all your bloody fau—”

“Thank you, Ewan,” Louise interrupted. “And if you’re quite done, Oliver... yes, I did want you here. Now, if you don’t mind, I was about to tell you my ingenious plan.”

They all fell silent.

“You’re going to tell us?” Sophie blurted.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Just like that?”

Louise waved her hand vaguely; Ewan had seen Archie do the same thing so many times that he was bothered by it. “Well, I worked such a long time on it,” she said. “It’s been in place for nearly a year now.”

Ewan felt lost when Oliver and Sophie exchanged knowing glances. “What plan?” he demanded shakily. “Getting me to lead Oliver to you, so you can frame me for his murder?”

“No,” Sophie said with such conviction that Ewan looked at her in surprise, “her intention this entire time was to activate the Baahl.”

Louise nodded. “Indeed, Agent Stuart, though I must admit, this outcome isn’t wholly what I had predicted. My original plot was far simpler. But I suppose very little ever goes according to plan in the real world. If I may…”

With a dramatic sweep of her arm, Louise slipped into one of the thrones, practically draping herself over it. She lovingly ran a hand over its jewel-encrusted cushion. The train of her gown pooled at her feet like lilac sea foam.

“The wonderful thing about Zaubernegativum is it can push the limits of magic. A true disciple of Zaubneg is one of the most powerful men or women in the world. For instance,” Louise added, placing a hand on her chest, “myself.”

“Please,” Ewan couldn’t help but mutter, ignoring the dark looks Sophie and Oliver tossed his way.

“Despite this, the Lord Ravager you knew was, I’m sad to say, a tad touched in the head. He was never himself again after his third wife tragically died in the same mysterious circumstances as the first two.”

“I suppose that explains why it’s a disco ball,” Oliver murmured.

“When he was younger, he was a brilliant man. He had unparalleled talent; there was no one like him. Years ago—when you were very little, Archibald, darling—he told me about a mechanism he’d created that had the power to use the force of an imploding universe to carry you into another realm. I’d forgotten all about it until that matter over the summer with the Order of the Golden Water Buffalo.” She smiled at Oliver. “I’m certain you remember that.”

“The case we had a few months ago,” explained Oliver to the others. “They tried to open a portal to another universe.”

“Yes, I can read, see, and hear,” Archie retorted. “The news was everywhere.”

Ewan, who hadn’t heard a single word of the incident, glanced away quickly as Oliver sent him a pointed look.

“They had the Grand Master Buffalo on the telly after his arrest,” Louise continued, ignoring their exchange. “He said that they’d tried to do it because he’d had a vision that showed him that there was a dimension where his Order was the world’s largest religion. And I thought, wouldn’t it be
wonderful
to go to a universe where you were the highest authority?”

That wasn’t something normal people thought. Ewan swallowed thickly. He just knew that this was going to end with him murdered.

“Unfortunately, like all totems,” she continued, “the Baahl was tied to the Lord Ravager.”

Oliver sat up straighter. “So you needed him dead,” he said grimly, “and you needed to activate it.”

“Brilliantly put. Yes, first I tried to activate it. As a young man, he was the most powerful man in the world—but as he aged, his power waned. By the last decade of his life, he didn’t have the ability to power the Baahl. Killing him myself would’ve been useless, as even our combined magic couldn’t total the amount of power he’d had before.

“It took me months to find the perfect spell, but, one, my volunteers were caught and arrested, and, two, it’s very difficult to convince people to kill themselves for you. But then my son told me he found the best friend of the slayer of Duff Slan, the most powerful man in Britain, working in a coffee shop.”

Her icy gaze flickered back to Ewan. “As I told you before, Ewan: you’re my Heimdall.”

Ewan shrunk back; he could feel Oliver’s hard gaze on the side of his face. “I didn’t think you meant it literally,” he muttered, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“She didn’t,” said Sophie. “That’s not what ‘literally’ means.”

“But why did you need me?” Ewan asked. “Couldn’t you kill Oliver on your own?”

“No,” Oliver said. His face was stony. “Because she knew that I was the only one who could get Ralph the Ravager to release his hold on the Baahl, but that she would never be able to kill me herself without using trickery. She played you just as much as she played me—she needed the both of us.”

Louise smiled. “And I needed my lovely Archibald to play Ewan.”

Archie looked stricken. “But—but I didn’t.”

“You’re so predictable, darling. After you fell for my plan to tell Ewan about my idea to frame him for murder—and, incidentally, I’ve forgiven you for being so willing to give me up—I knew that all I had to do was threaten his life again and you would go to the one person you knew would help. I also knew that Oliver wouldn’t let Ewan get away so easily after being humiliated the last time.”

For a brief instant, Ewan’s fear dissipated as anger took over. Part of him had hated Archie for leaving him trapped in Louise’s house, not knowing if he would ever escape—but now that Archie had fallen for Louise’s trap twice, he hated him for that, too. It had been Archie who had convinced Oliver to find him, to lead him back into her hands to be used all over again. Aside from the cold, the fear, and the debilitating loneliness, Ewan had been perfectly fine in Scotland.

He swallowed thickly, digging his nails into his palms. “Did you mean for me to steal the Baahl when you left me in Hertfordshire?”

“Honestly, that had not been my intention,” Louise replied. “I didn’t think anyone would bother to steal a disco ball. At worst, I thought it would go into police custody, and then Archibald would have to find a way to steal it back.”

She stretched out her hand, palm up. The Baahl floated up over Oliver’s shoulder. Now a white, radiating ball, the tiny squares of its mirrored diadems had become faint outlines, barely visible through the glow.

“Well, there go a half dozen universes,” she said, turning it over to inspect the damage. “Pity.”

Oliver’s voice faltered. “Are you saying that we destroyed the universe?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Louise said, “but I’m afraid so.”

Ewan waited to feel something other than anger—guilt, panic, or even happiness—but nothing happened. Then he felt a twinge of shame at not feeling bad, so he figured he was all right.

From the other side of Oliver, Sophie made a thoughtful noise. “If the world’s destroyed, and Oliver activated the Baahl, why are all of us here? Shouldn’t only Oliver have survived?”

Louise nodded. “An excellent question, Agent. The mechanism has a certain range of focus. You four dimwits moved with it, and I, having bound myself to the Baahl a year ago, came with you.”

“You’re beyond evil,” Oliver said. His voice wobbled with anger.

“I prefer to think of myself as opportunistic,” said Louise lightly. “Now, Oliver, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kill you.”

Ewan’s breath caught in his throat.

“Dearest?” a deep, male voice asked, echoing throughout the hall.

It wasn’t a voice Ewan had heard before, as far as he could recall. He glanced at the others; Sophie and Oliver were looking around with matching confused expressions on their faces. Muttering to herself, Louise slouched down into the throne.

But Archie had gone terribly still, his eyes rounding. “Daddy?” he whispered.

“I was going to tell you,” Louise sighed. She put a long-suffering hand to her temple. “This universe is... not what I was expecting.”

“I thought you said your dad died when you were little,” Ewan asked.

“He did,” Archie said slowly.

“Are you doing something evil again, my little fury?” Sir Gardener Hobbes called. “You know how I feel about evil inside the house.”

Louise cupped her hand around her mouth. “No, my dastardly lover,” she said back in a singsong tone. To Archie, she added, “I’ve made up my mind. I think it’s time for us to find a new universe. Share my newfound power with your father? I don’t think so.”

“But, Mum,” Archie said weakly.

“I don’t think the universe is really destroyed,” Sophie whispered to them as Archie and Louise argued.

“You don’t?” Oliver asked hopefully.

She shook her head. “I’ve read Ralph the Ravager’s book. There are so many exaggerations and lies in it—I don’t believe he was capable of creating a mechanism that would be powerful enough blow up the universe.”