The Romulus Equation (19 page)

Quaint peered over the edge. ‘It's like staring down into the bowels of hell.'

‘Can we get out of here?' added Viktor. ‘This place makes me nervous.'

‘And so it should,' echoed a loud voice around the cave.

Romulus, Quaint and Viktor spun around, hearing the shuffling of feet behind them.

‘
Adolfo
,' Romulus said, his lips taut against his bared fangs.

‘
Belisarius
,' said Remus. ‘It has been a long time.'

Quaint stared at his foe. This was Remus? This…
thing?
He was in a lot more wolf-like state than Romulus, and it shocked the conjuror to his core. He had shed his humanity to become one with the wolf. His white shirt was stained and torn, marred with sweat, and his hair was swept close to his scalp. He was easily in his sixties, Quaint assumed, but he carried himself with the confidence of a far younger man. His form was broad, his taut muscles visible beneath the tattered shirt. His features were drawn tight against his skull, and his low brow held his red-rimmed eyes in shadow. If Quaint had any scepticism about the existence of werewolves, the sight before him promptly quashed them.

As Remus walked slowly down a flight of stone steps formed from the rock-face, he surveyed the company before him with interest. One he knew only too well, his brother Romulus, whereas the other two were unknown to him.

‘I see you are still fighting the transformation, Belisarius. You are a fool. We have been endowed with such power… how can you forsake it? Look upon me! I am a reflection of what you might become if only you would let go.'

‘And become a monster like you?' said Romulus. ‘Never!'

‘You may choose to hide your true self, brother, but it is still there… just beneath the surface. And it will only take one scratch to set it free,' Remus said, flexing his clawed fingers. ‘Not even God can save you from the demons inside you… despite you spending so much time in his company.' Remus watched the glimmer of surprise upon his brother's face. ‘I know all about your little exploits these past few years,
il mio fratello.
In fact, you have me to thank for making the name Romulus one synonymous with crime. Your reputation is ideal to mask my own exploits.'

He walked closer to Romulus, Quaint and Viktor, each footstep grinding deeply into the ashen gravel on the cave floor. As he stepped into the torchlight, Quaint could not take his eyes off him. Since learning of his name in China some months before, the conjuror had been intoxicated by him, obsessed even. For most of his adult life he had suspected Hades Consortium's involvement in his parents' deaths, but it was not until this was confirmed by Cho-zen Li that he had known for sure. Up until that point it had just been an unanswered question. In truth, Quaint had not expected to get this far, and now that he was standing ten feet away from his parents' murderer, he had no idea what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to feel. He had thought that his anger would dictate his actions, but all he felt upon seeing Remus was fear.

He had not anticipated it… and he did not like it.

He took a step forwards, but Romulus snatched him back.

‘Not yet, Cornelius,' he warned.

‘
Cornelius
?' glared Remus, measuring the conjuror. ‘Well, well, well… you
do
have some interesting new friends, Belisarius! I was sorry to have missed you in Egypt, Signor Quaint… but now here we are.' Remus folded his muscular arms across his chest, superior in his confidence. ‘I cannot imagine how you two pathetic waifs found yourselves in each other's company. Was it you, Cornelius? Seeking Belisarius's aid in your quest for… quest for what exactly? Revenge?'

‘That's a start,' said Quaint.

‘So you know the truth,' said Remus, ‘about how I gutted your pathetic excuse for a father? Augustus was a fool. Just like my spineless brother, he chose to deny his legacy, deny who he
truly
was… and what he was
capable
of. The Hades Consortium offered him greatness and he threw it back in our faces!'

‘What happened?' Quaint demanded. ‘Tell me the truth, damn you!'

Remus picked between his fangs with his claw, plucking a morsel of bloodied flesh from them. ‘Is that why you have come all this way? For the truth?' He strolled casually over to the edge of the pit, wafting his hand into the black smoke rising from the dormant volcano below, taking a deep inhalation as if it was a fine wine. ‘The truth for some can sometimes be hard to accept… but for you, Cornelius Quaint… it will be the death of you!

Remus lunged and Romulus just managed to push Quaint out of his way, taking the full brunt of Remus's attack. The Baron sunk his fangs into Romulus's shoulder, spraying blood from the punctures. Like enraged animals they began to fight as Quaint stood on the sidelines, his fists itching to get involved.

‘
Nein
, Cornelius!' Viktor yelled, dragging him back. His feet slipped in the gravel, trying to gain purchase as he pushed the conjuror back against the rock wall. ‘Look at them! They are wild beasts! They will tear you to bits!'

‘I have to know!' Quaint snapped. ‘I'm close to learning the truth, I know it!'

‘You are close to nothing, Cornelius, he was just toying with you!'

‘No! He was about to tell me why he killed them.'

‘Actually, he was about to kill
you
,' said Viktor. ‘You seek to honour your parents,
mein Freund
, but surely not at the cost of your own life!'

‘I don't seek to honour them!' hissed Quaint. ‘I seek to
avenge
them!'

‘By sacrificing your life? That is not vengeance. That is suicide.'

‘Let me go, Viktor! Let me
finish
this!'

‘If I let you go, you will die.'

‘Then
let
me damn well die!' Quaint was strong, considerably so for a man of his age – the wondrous elixir that had extended his lifespan had renewed his muscles with youthful vigour – but the German was bulkier, heavier. He was like a lead weight attached to Quaint's ankles, dragging both of them to the ground. Quaint clawed at the gravel madly, dragging himself closer to the fray, but all the while, Viktor was desperately trying to pull him away from it.

Remus and Romulus fought tooth and claw, biting and slicing at each other. Again and again they pounded, slashed, punched and kicked, but the longer the fight continued, the more Romulus came to realise that reality was indeed a different story to mythology. In this battle, he knew that Remus would be the victor…

As evenly matched as they were, Remus had submitted fully to his werewolf nature, crossed the line between man and beast, whilst Romulus was teetering on the edge, desperately trying to cling onto the shreds of his humanity. He could feel it with every punch, every gash and every strike. ‘
Only someone just as monstrous as he is can destroy him
,' he had told the conjuror, and that was what he was being forced to accept. If Romulus wished to destroy his brother, to rid the world of his evil, there was only one thing that he could do. He had to surrender his soul.

Howling like a maddened beast, he tore off his shirt and unleashed a furious assault against Remus. He pounded his fists upon his back, sending Remus to the ground, feet from the edge of the smoking abyss. Remus clawed at Romulus's face as he pressed the attack. Bloodied arcs filled the air as the two beasts fought. The more ferocious his attacks, the more Romulus felt his control slip from his grasp. Remus's claws pierced Romulus's ribcage. The crime-lord roared with pain. An animalistic, primal roar like the true beast he had become. His features were more like Remus's now. His beard was dripping blood, a wild glint in his yellowed eyes. With both men's clothes torn to shreds, their lupine bodies were on full display. Their spines were arched, protruding lumps of muscles and bone pulsating, veins fit to burst in their necks, and their brawny bodies caked in the filth from the ashen gravel.

‘They'll kill each other at this rate!' yelled Quaint.

‘And us too if we are not careful,' added Viktor.

‘Not yet! I won't allow it. I need answers!'

‘Forget your answers, think of your life! Romulus is now no more a man than Remus. They will tear this place apart to destroy one another.' Viktor snatched at Quaint's face, steering the conjuror's focus. ‘Cornelius, listen to me. Our plan has failed. We cannot get what you seek. Our only hope is to get out of this place!'

‘
Run
?' boomed Quaint, batting Viktor away. ‘Not a chance.'

Resolutely, Quaint threw himself into the fight. He landed on Remus's back, pounding his fists into the man's temples. Remus snarled – more in irritation than pain. He reached his burly arms behind his back and grabbed hold of Quaint's clothes, throwing him off with ease. The conjuror smashed into Romulus in mid-pounce and the ensuing confusion of arms and legs gave Remus just the edge he needed.

In a trice, he was upon Romulus, slashing wildly with his claws, tearing shreds of fur as if it were tissue paper. Romulus's torso bled as he fell onto his back; writhing in agony he tried to push his intestines back into his stomach. Remus turned on Quaint then, his face rippling with rage. From somewhere he found an ounce of humanity to speak.

‘You wanted… the truth?'

Quaint backed away, kicking against the ground with his heels. His face was gashed from his contact with Romulus and streaks of blood spilled down his cheeks.

‘Yes,' he hissed.

‘Then I shall tell you why I killed Augustus.' Remus snatched for Quaint's neck and with incredible ease, he lifted the conjuror off his feet. He pulled him towards his maw, gnashing his fangs in anticipation. ‘As you lie a whisper from death.'

Quaint gasped for air as Remus almost choked the life out of him.

Viktor ground his teeth anxiously. He had followed his old friend this far and he was not about to give in now. Seeing Remus pull back his fist for the killing blow, Viktor could not bear to look. But then something struck him, a tale that he had heard from that hairy woman in the Black Forest. She had told him about her curse, and about the only thing that could kill her, the one thing that all werewolves feared more than anything.

He tickled his fingers over his belt and slowly removed a shining dagger with an ornately decorated handle. This was the knife that he kept under his pillow, his favourite. It had been a gift from young Ruby Marstrand on the day that she had left his tutelage to begin her career with Cornelius Quaint's circus, but more importantly, it was forged of purest silver. He had never used it in his act. It was of far too much sentimental value. But now it seemed that the knife had a very clear purpose, and for the first time since it had been bestowed on him, Viktor Dzierzanowski used it in anger. The dagger struck its target, embedding up to the hilt in Remus's heart. As his hands leapt to the wound, he dropped Quaint, who crashed to the ground awkwardly. Remus flailed about wildly with his arms, hollering in pain – no, more than that. More than mere pain. Pain had a limit, a threshold, a point where it levelled out. This sensation went far beyond pain, beyond agony. He clawed at the knife, ripping it from his chest as a fountain of blood spewed out. With his vision impaired, he struck out at everything in his path – and unfortunately for Quaint, that included him, but he was still too dazed to move.

Pushing his guts back inside his stomach, Romulus staggered to his feet and he threw himself at Remus like a battering ram, the force sending both of them toppling over the edge of the pit in a mass of thrashing claws and gnashing fangs.

‘No!' yelled Quaint. He scrambled to his feet and leapt after them – only to be grabbed by Viktor and pulled back away from the edge. The two men fell to the ground. Quaint desperately tried to wriggle free, pushing himself along on his belly.

‘It is too late!' roared Viktor. ‘They have fallen into the abyss.'

Quaint clawed his way to the pit's edge, staring numbly into the swirling black smoke at the bottom of the abyss. There was no sign of either Romulus or Remus. Into the volcano they had gone… along with his only hope of ever learning the truth about his parents.

Quaint slammed his fists into the ground. ‘Damn them!' His black eyes were fixed into the volcano as spits of white hot lava sprung into life through the smoke.

‘Remus and Romulus have fallen… swallowed by that volcanic beast,' Viktor said, kneeling at Quaint's side at the edge of the pit.

‘And so now we must follow,' said Quaint.

Viktor's eyes flared. ‘For what reason, Cornelius? They are surely dead!'

‘We'll know for sure once we get down there, won't we?'

‘But how? I see no way down,' said Viktor – quite relieved about it. ‘And I seem to have left my wings at home.'

‘We could try floating down with all your hot air!' Quaint snapped, but then he noticed the wooden structure leaning over the pit with the chain attached to it and an idea immediately popped into his head, but he quickly discounted it for being far too risky. Then he had another idea, but likewise it was afflicted with a high probability of death, and so Quaint changed his mind back to his original (if only marginally less lethal) idea. ‘I know what we'll do… we'll
climb
down!'

‘
Climb down
, are you insane?' Viktor was clearly against that notion. ‘That hole is hundreds of feet deep if it is an inch! It will take us hours to climb down. I cannot possibly do it, not with this ballast weighing me down!' He clutched his portly stomach and gave it a wobble.

‘I'll go first then,' said Quaint, as he took a wide step out onto the structure's platform, his balance wavering as he edged along the narrow plank.