The Demon Collector

by Jon Mayhew

  ‘When God had thrown Satan and his rebellious angels down into the pits of hell, it was Moloch who had wanted to continue the battle, to rise up once more and crash like a fiery tide upon the walls of heaven. But Satan had counselled deviousness and trickery, knowing that they could never beat the Almighty.

  ‘“Better to confuse and corrupt man, the Almighty’s pride and joy,” Satan had said and set off to tempt and torment humankind.

  ‘“Better the field of battle than to skulk in the shadows, whispering obscenities into the ears of village idiots,” Moloch hissed to himself.

  ‘Day after day, Moloch crouched in his dark cave of ash and stared out.

  ‘Week after week, Moloch wondered, why should Satan sit upon that throne?

  ‘Month after month. What gave him the right to be worshipped by the other demons?

  ‘Year after year. He is no better than the one God, demanding our tribute and adulation!

  ‘Century upon century added heat to Moloch’s anger, until one day he burst forth and threw himself at the startled Satan.

  ‘Demons howled in despair as Moloch plunged the great Satan into the molten lava. Satan had never been challenged. He never expected to be. He was unprepared. Moloch cast Satan into his dark cave of ash and sealed him in.

  ‘Satan hurled himself at the dark cave walls. Mountains threw themselves up into the sky. Satan pounded his prison confines. Hills rolled across the earth’s crust like waves. Finally, Satan threw himself to the floor and despaired, weeping bitter tears that flooded from his cavernous gaol, leaving salt seas between the mountains.

  ‘In his grief, Satan tore at himself and gouged at his flesh. In his madness, Satan shaped the skin, blood and nail he ripped from himself. He fashioned limbs and eyes, horns and teeth. He laughed and tormented the creatures in the darkness and they grew to hate and fear him, even though he had fashioned them from his own body.

  ‘The demons hated and feared Moloch too. He had thrown down the great Satan. He was preparing them for a war against heaven, a war they could never win. He was leading them to their destruction.

  ‘Yet who could oppose Moloch? The demons were all too afraid, too craven to stand against him. They crawled at his feet, begged for his favour and mercy.

  ‘All except one.

  ‘Salomé. Satan’s queen. She stood proud in the blue-green world and defied Moloch – until he decided to cast her into Satan’s pit.

  ‘“Do what you wish,” she cried. “At least I’ll be with the true master.”

  ‘In a rage, Moloch broke open the seal of Satan’s cave. Sensing freedom, all the creatures of the pit spewed forth, blinded by the daylight, battering into Moloch’s face. Seeing his weakness, Salomé plunged her fist deep into Moloch’s chest and tore out his heart.

  ‘“You have been loyal,” Satan said to Salomé. “You can have any gift you wish.”

  ‘“Give me Moloch’s heart that I may keep it hidden and separate from his foul body,” replied Salomé. “ That way he will never rise again.”

  ‘“Very well,” Satan agreed, “but you must protect it and every thirteen years you must show me that you still have it safe.”

  ‘He knew that if she wished she could replace Moloch’s heart and bring him back. So Satan hid Moloch’s body from prying and disloyal eyes. And to this day, nobody knows where the body lies.

  ‘Salomé, her wish granted, feared Satan’s distrust. She knew that only if she held the heart of Moloch could she keep the ear of Satan. So Salomé hid the heart where nobody would ever find it. Not even Satan himself.’

  A spell of silence hung over the exhibition hall. Janus sighed and lowered his head as if exhausted by telling the tale.

  ‘So has anybody found them? Moloch’s heart or the body?’ Edgy whispered. The names echoed in his mind. He could still hear the boy gasping them out with his dying breath.

  ‘Some say it’s only a story,’ Janus muttered, his gaze distant. ‘Fools! I’ve worked long and hard to prove that Moloch exists and to find his body. But recently my investigations have become more than academic.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Edgy said, frowning.

  ‘Salomé,’ Janus whispered. ‘She exists. I’ve seen her. She wants Moloch’s body. I think she seeks to bring him back, to destroy this world and the next.’ He grabbed Edgy’s wrists, squeezing them until they hurt. ‘And I think you can help me stop her –’

  A short cough interrupted Janus and made Edgy jump. He turned to see a grey, sullen old man huddled in a long coat. His lined, wrinkled face seemed to be losing the fight with gravity, so droopy were his jowls. His eyes looked dull and watery. Not a curl of hair grew on his head; he reminded Edgy of a boiled egg that had gone off.

  ‘Who’s this, Janus?’ he murmured, stooping over Edgy and looking him up and down.

  ‘Edgy Taylor. I brought him in yesterday,’ Janus said. ‘Edgy, this is Mr Sokket, a fellow and one of the governors of the Royal Society.’

  ‘My God,’ Sokket muttered, making an even longer face than Edgy thought possible. ‘Your last employee’s not cold in his grave and you find a replacement. Let’s hope he lasts a bit longer.’

  ‘I’m not workin’ for ’im, sir,’ Edgy said, trying not to twitch. ‘I’m just waitin’ for a chance to leave.’

  ‘Very wise, boy,’ Sokket said. ‘And don’t forget the governors’ meeting later, Janus. I think your presence will be required after yesterday’s excitement.’

  Sokket walked out of sight, leaving Edgy staring after him, open-mouthed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Edgy,’ Janus grinned as Mr Sokket’s final mutterings faded down the corridor. ‘Mortesque Sokket is one of life’s eternal pessimists, never disappointed when everything goes wrong. Mortesque has a taste for the macabre. And to think he’s on the board of governors when I’m not! It makes my blood boil, Edgy.’

  ‘But he said something about the other boy,’ Edgy said. ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘Sadly, yes. We found out this morning. But it’s nothing for you to concern yourself about.’ Janus smiled back at him. ‘The poor lad was a bit careless, that’s all. Didn’t keep his wits about him. Now you strike me as an altogether more . . . cautious kind of chap.’

  ‘Damn right I am,’ Edgy snapped and stalked off towards the main doors to the exhibition hall. ‘I’ve been strang­led by an imp, called a thief, seen ghosts an’ demons an’ governors who tell me I’m gonna die, an’ you tell me it’s nothing to worry about?’

  ‘Edgy?’ Janus called after him. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Out of this madhouse,’ Edgy called back. The clicking of Henry’s claws echoed off the high ceiling of the hall.

  ‘But the demons at the front,’ Janus shouted urgently, ‘they’re still there.’

  ‘There must be a back door,’ Edgy said.

  ‘Stop! It’s too dangerous out there,’ Janus called after him.

  ‘An’ it’s safe an’ sound in ’ere?’ Edgy called back and stalked past the displays and demons out of the hall and into the corridor. ‘I’ll take me chances with the demons if it’s all the same to you, sir.’

  Falsehood is the devil’s daughter,

  And speaks her father’s tongue.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Eight

  The Snake and the Library

  Edgy strode down the corridor, trying to orientate himself so he was walking towards the rear of the building. He twitched and blinked in the gloom. He wanted to be out of this strange place with its jealous demons and dead girls who yelled at you. Janus had clothed and fed him, true – but the boy he’d seen die had worked here, he was sure of that now.

  ‘Not goin’ to end up like that,’ Edgy murmured to Henry. ‘Nah. Let’s get out of ’ere while we still can, I reckon.’

  Edgy stopped. The corridor ended in tall, thick double doors. He squinted at a brass plate on one of them.

  ‘Library,’ he read aloud. Henry gave a low growl. ‘Well, we don’t want that – we want a
way out. What did that book say? “Think where you might be tempted to stray”? Somethin’ like that.’

  Edgy doubled back and took a left turn but more double doors blocked the way. Another sign read: Library. He turned back again, walked right. More doors.

  ‘Another library. Somethin’ is goin’ on ’ere, Henry,’ he muttered. ‘I think we’re meant to go in.’

  Edgy pulled open the door and stepped through.

  ‘Blimey,’ he gasped, staring open-mouthed at the scene before him. How did I not notice this from outside?

  A vast dome curved above him like St Paul’s Cathedral. It glowed with a deep translucent blue like a midsummer night sky. The walls reached up to the dome into the distance, lined with bookshelves. Ladders and walkways zigzagged higher and higher, vanishing into the shadows. Edgy’s head spun just looking up. A maze of bookshelves also filled the floor of the hall. Each shelf looked to be composed of living branches, twisting themselves into compartments that housed thousands of books. Dark leaves sprouted from the bookshelves and trembled in the warm breeze. Black apples clustered among the leaves. A thin mist drifted around them. Edgy wandered further into the library, Henry trotting at his heel, panting.

  ‘Funny library, this, old chap,’ Edgy murmured, leaning on a nearby desk.

  He shivered as the sound of gentle weeping drifted out of the mist. Hazy white human figures darted from shelf to shelf, pulling books out or running skeletal fingers down the spines. A spectral man floated over to a pile of volumes and ran milky white eyes over the titles. He was dressed like a gentleman but all colour had drained from him. He reminded Edgy of Sally except the outline of the bookshelves, desks and tables shimmered through his transparent body. Tears coursed down his long, scarred face and he ground his teeth in anguish as he turned over cover after cover.

  ‘They seek one book. They will never find it,’ hissed a voice above Edgy.

  He turned with a start. Henry gave a yap and Edgy followed his gaze to the top of the nearest bookshelf. A huge, black snake hung from the gnarled branches of the bookcase. It curled and looped around the branch time and again but its tail vanished into the shadows.

  ‘Why not?’ Edgy asked.

  ‘I do not wish it,’ the snake hissed, shifting its coils. ‘They are my lost souls. They sold themselves to me in life. Now they pay their debt. What do you seek, human boy?’

  ‘Erm, nothin’. I couldn’t get away from ’ere, that’s all. It seemed like I had to come in,’ Edgy muttered. ‘I’m looking for a way out of this place.’

  ‘I know but are you sure that’s what you want?’ the snake whispered, flicking its black tongue out. ‘You are full of questions, boy. I can taste your curiosity – and your uncertainty. What do you want to know?’

  Edgy glanced at the apples and the leaves.

  ‘Do you see the fruit?’ the snake said, slipping down the trunk that made the side of the bookcase. ‘Not many can. Few can see me unless I allow it. But what better place to house books than in the Tree of Knowledge?’

  ‘The Tree of What?’

  ‘No,’ the snake’s wide mouth formed a grin, ‘the Tree of Knowledge. You know . . . Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden, biting the apple and all that nonsense. If you choose to believe it, of course.’

  ‘And this is that tree?’ Edgy asked, hardly able to believe it. ‘Are you . . . him? The devil?’

  The snake weaved across the dusty, woodblock floor towards Edgy but still its tail never left the shadows of the shelves.

  ‘It could be that tree and I suppose I’m old enough to be him,’ the snake said, as if it hadn’t considered that before. ‘But who I am doesn’t matter. I am the library, I bring knowledge. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing and that’s just how we like it. A little piece at a time.’

  ‘Righto,’ Edgy said, trying to look like he understood.

  ‘So you want to leave?’ The snake stopped at his feet. ‘What about Salomé?’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Edgy said, trying not to give anything away.

  The snake swayed his head from side to side. ‘Oh, come along, Edgy Taylor. Do you think you’re here by accident? Mr Janus needs your help. Why are those demons outside so keen to catch you? Don’t you know?’

  ‘Do you?’ Edgy said. ‘I thought you brought knowledge.’

  ‘I do,’ the snake snapped, rearing up. It looked like Edgy had hit a sore spot. ‘I knew you were curious, Edgy Taylor. The answer might be here. Care to look for it?’ The snake’s eyes narrowed. ‘I could find the information for you if you’ve got something to . . . exchange . . .’

  A lost soul drifted by, blinded by tears, battering through the pages of a book in a desperate search. For what? Her white hair billowed, blown by a spectral breeze, her sobs echoing in Edgy’s ears. He shook himself. How did the snake know his name? Did it know everything?

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll work it out for myself, thanks very much.’

  ‘Well, call in any time. I like you, Edgy Taylor. You’ve got a sharp mind. You’re always welcome.’

  Edgy watched the snake uncoil and slide back into the shadows, merging with the books in the shelves so that it became part of them. Soon it was invisible but for a pair of amber eyes burning from the bookshelf.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find a way out, one way or another.’ The eyes faded and vanished.

  The huge hall echoed with the muted cries and sobs of the lost souls as Edgy trekked back towards the great main doors and out into the corridor.

  A small window hung open, allowing a rare draught of cold air to cut through the stuffiness of the Society. Edgy peeked through the thin, leaded frame. He looked out on to a narrow alleyway. Probably the side of the building. With a bit of a squeeze he could be through it and away before anyone at the front could see him.

  ‘Whatever the answer is,’ Edgy murmured to Henry, ‘I’ve ’ad enough of demons an’ devils an’ snakes.’

  He leaned out of the window, lowered Henry on to the ground, then straddled a leg over the sill of the window and flipped into the gloom.

  Lie there, lie there, love Hennery,

  Till the flesh rots off your bones,

  And that pretty girl in Merry Green Lea

  Thinks long of your coming home.

  ‘Young Hunting’, traditional folk ballad

  Chapter Nine

  Taking Chances

  Every noise made Edgy shiver and twitch as he crept down the alleyway. Mud squelched loudly under his boots; his breath sounded to him like a blacksmith’s bellows. He glanced left and right, waiting for the hideous demons to pounce on him from every shadowy doorway, to come snarling through every blackened window, but nothing moved.

  Edgy reckoned it was mid-morning but the grey twilight of the winter streets was as confusing as the ruddy glow of the lights in the Society. The alleys here twisted and doubled back on each other. Henry trotted ahead, leading Edgy deeper into the tangle of claustrophobic streets. The occasional cry made Edgy flinch but he saw nothing more threatening than ragged child­ren trying to snatch morsels of stale bread from each other.

  He stepped into a small yard littered with planks of rotten wood and old barrels. A rusted pump stood in the centre, surrounded by a puddle of green water.

  ‘I think we’ve done it, Henry,’ he muttered, still on the lookout. ‘I think we’ve left them demons back at the Society.’ He allowed himself a brief smile.

  Henry gave a fretful whine and peered up, his eyebrows knitted with concern. Edgy scanned the courtyard for any signs of life or movement.

  The windows stared down on him, black and lifeless. A few bubbles popped on the surface of the scummy puddle. Edgy stepped forward, craning his neck to see to the bottom. It was inches deep. Nothing could hide under there. He sidled along the side of the yard, pressing his back against the walls of the slums that formed the square. The water bubbled again.

  Then, in a fountain of slime and scum, something burst up out of the puddle as if it were as de
ep as a lake. Henry gave a bark and Edgy froze as the demon hovered above them, flapping its bat-like wings and splattering water all around.

  It was one of the creatures that had chased Edgy yesterday. Green and glowing slightly, the flame flickered between its thick eyebrows. The Flame of Moloch. Edgy shuddered and twitched, wiping the spots of slime that rained down on to his cheek.

  ‘Be brave,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Don’t show yer fear. That’s what old Janus said . . .’

  The demon gave a deep chuckle and lowered itself to the ground, the beat of its wings ruffling Edgy’s tousled hair.

  ‘On second thoughts,’ Edgy said, ‘run!’

  He launched himself away from the wall as the demon lunged forward. Edgy twisted his body to avoid collision. With a hiss of frustration, the creature smacked into the wall. Edgy clattered out of the courtyard and down the nearest alleyway.

  Left, then right, Edgy ran without thinking where he was going. Henry panted at his side. Behind them powerful wings pounded the air. With a breathless sob, Edgy doubled his efforts. The downdraught of the flying demon chilled his sweaty neck. He could feel its claws graze the back of his head as he ducked forward.

  And then, suddenly, Edgy burst out into the main street and the crowds. He risked a backwards glance, clipping the shoulder of a protesting gentleman as he did so. It was enough to show him that the demon stood at the mouth of the alleyway. Why has it stopped?

  With a groan, Edgy crashed to the ground, just managing to shield his face with his hands. The dirt and gravel between the cobbles scoured his palms and took the air from his lungs. For a moment he lay still, gasping to breathe.

  ‘Did you forget to count?’ snarled a fierce voice. Edgy looked up to see the other demon leering down at him. ‘There’s more than one of us, remember?’

  Edgy bit his lip. He should have realised. Only one had chased him – the others must have been heading him off all the time. He’d been tricked. But he could still only see two of them. Henry barked and snarled, snapping at the demon’s ankles, but the creature ignored him.