The Demon Collector

by Jon Mayhew

  ‘You ’ave something we want,’ said the first demon, catching up with them.

  ‘I don’t know what yer mean,’ Edgy gasped. ‘What could I ’ave that you’d be interested in? Why don’t you leave me alone?’

  But the demons weren’t looking at him now. Instead they stood to attention, jaws slack, eyes wide. Henry was staring too, body rigid, one paw raised, a low rumbling growl sounding in his throat.

  ‘Why, if it isn’t Edgy Taylor,’ a voice chirped. ‘I hardly recognised you in those fancy clothes.’

  Edgy, still sprawled on the floor, looked up to see the same young lady he’d met yesterday. Black hair tumbling down her shoulders, cheeks dimpled by a crimson-lipped smile.

  ‘The Royal Society is looking after you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Salomé,’ gasped one of the demons, falling to one knee. The second demon appeared reluctant but his companion pulled it down as well and it didn’t give too much resistance.

  ‘Leave us,’ the woman said, snapping her fingers and waving her hand impatiently. ‘Go.’

  ‘But the boy . . . we have spent many days hunting him. We –’ the first demon began.

  ‘I said leave.’ Salomé’s perfect smile fell, her lips tightened. ‘Or do I have to tear your hearts out and feed them to this mutt?’

  Henry bared his teeth at Salomé and the two demons. They rose and bowed slowly, then backed off into the crowd and vanished.

  ‘Not the same as it used to be,’ she sniffed, pulling a black lacy glove on to her hand. ‘But they still show some respect.’

  Edgy twitched as he clambered to his feet. His heart pounded. Pressing his hand to his pocket, he felt the pouch of salt that Janus had given him still nestled there next to the shard of bone.

  Salomé, the Demon Queen. She’s after Moloch’s body but what does she want with me? Edgy pondered for a moment. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

  Salomé spoke again, cutting through his thoughts. ‘Names are valuable currency, young Edgy, I told you that last time we met.’ She giggled, pacing around him. Wherever she stood, the crowds parted like a stream around a rock, staring ahead, oblivious of her. ‘The fools at the Society give their names like loose change. I never give my name freely but you know who I am by now, I suppose.’

  Edgy muttered, ‘Well, I could have a good guess’, then pushed the nearest passing gent into Salomé and darted off in the opposite direction. Henry’s claws clattered alongside him. His new boots slapped the cobbles, hobnails sparking as he stumbled round a corner and into a dark alley. He slammed his back against the wall, panting for breath. After his previous chase, Edgy had little energy left.

  ‘Have we lost her?’ Salomé said, appearing right next to Edgy and imitating his wide eyes and heaving chest. She giggled like a young girl playing kiss chase.

  Edgy bolted back into the crowds, rolling through mud, scurrying under barrows. He pitched into another alleyway.

  ‘This is so exciting,’ she said with a squeal and a skip.

  Again he ran, dodging around walkers and street sellers, sending a juggler flying, skittles and balls bouncing into the street and startling horses. Edgy’s body ached. He couldn’t run any more. He dived into a deep porch at the side of a shop.

  Salomé appeared behind him once more.

  ‘You are funny, Edgy Taylor.’ She beamed, slapping her hands to her knees. ‘Much more fun than that other boy. He didn’t last ten seconds.’

  So the boy had been running from Salomé. Now Edgy knew what had happened to the other boy and that was not going to happen to him. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and grasped Janus’s pouch of salt. He needed to get close if this was to work. He remembered the woman’s riddle. Janus had said that demons love riddles. Talon had taught him so many . . . maybe that would distract her just enough.

  ‘What can cure but is no remedy, white as snow but melts it, invisible in water unless you taste it?’

  ‘A riddle, Edgy? Oh, I love riddles! Have you found out the answer to mine yet? It would fascinate you.’ Salomé still bent towards him as if she were playing with a toddler, hands on her knees.

  ‘What’s the answer to mine? Or is it too hard for you?’ Edgy taunted, taking a step closer.

  ‘Hmmm.’ Salomé tilted her head and put a gloved hand to her dainty chin. ‘It can cure but isn’t a remedy? Cure must mean to preserve, like a ham.’ Her face was close, Edgy could smell her perfume. ‘It’s white and melts snow and you can taste it. Of course I know! It’s s—’

  Edgy didn’t let her finish but lashed out his fist and gave her a faceful of the answer.

  ‘Damn your black heart, Edgy Taylor!’ Salomé screamed, throwing her hands to her eyes.

  Edgy turned and ran, not waiting to see how much damage he’d inflicted. He hurtled up the street, fear powering him along. Faces blurred as he flew past countless gentlemen and ladies. The cries of the street sellers flew by as he dodged and weaved among the crowd, desperately trying not to look back.

  Finally, he slowed. It seemed safe. Henry’s sides heaved as he looked up, his tongue dangling from his mouth, puffing hot breath like a steam engine.

  ‘I know,’ Edgy sighed, sitting down on a shop doorstep and stroking Henry’s ear. Henry was right to feel nervous. It seemed that Salomé could find him whenever she wanted. The demons would soon be on his trail again and he couldn’t escape them. ‘I ’ate to admit it but we’re stuck, good an’ proper.’ Edgy looked up. His stomach tightened. ‘An’ it looks like we’ve got company again.’

  Grinning with anticipation, the two demons pushed their way through the pedestrians towards Edgy. Edgy sat, all his energy spent, and watched as they advanced. With a grimace, he pulled himself up, clinging to the frame of the shop window as the world began to spin.

  The elfin knight sits on yon hill,

  Blowing his horn loud and shrill.

  ‘I love to hear that horn blow;

  I wish him here that owns it and all.’

  That word it was no sooner spoken,

  Than elfin knight in her arms was gotten.

  ‘You must make to me a shirt,

  Without thread, shears or needlework .’

  ‘The Elfin Knight’, traditional folk ballad

  Chapter Ten

  A Decision

  Henry’s shrill bark echoed in Edgy’s ears. Sharp talons dug into his shoulder and he felt himself being dragged to his feet. The crowds in the street bustled by, oblivious to the demons.

  ‘Take him,’ hissed a demonic voice. Edgy couldn’t distinguish between the two demons. Their twisted faces swam before him, merging, leering, gnashing their razor teeth. The flames flickered on their brows, dancing as if in victory.

  ‘Our names will be forever on the lips of Lord Moloch,’ said the other, ‘if this is the child –’

  A muffled thud cut the demon’s sentence short. Edgy blinked, shaking the stars from his dazed eyes. The demon stood before him still gripping him by the shoulder of his jacket, but a puzzled frown creased its pock-marked brow as it wiped grey sludge from its upper arm. The creature’s eyes widened in horror as the grey stain spread up its neck. Edgy tried to pull away but the demon’s grip on his coat tightened. Gradually it froze, the demon’s eyes becoming marbled, then lifeless and blank.

  A second bang sounded in the street. Glancing left, Edgy watched as the second demon writhed, trying to escape the dirty snowball that splattered wetly on to its back. Little by little, its movements died down to a slow dance, then it too froze altogether. A statue.

  Edgy hung by his coat, half suspended from the ­ossified demon’s closed fist. He wriggled to get free but the jacket was pinched tight around his armpit. The demon statue rocked on its heels, threatening to fall forward and crush Edgy. One or two passers-by began to stop and stare, open-mouthed, at the spectacle that had appeared before them.

  ‘Just popped outta thin air,’ shrieked a flower girl, craning her neck at Edgy as he tugged at the trapped fabric of his jacket. �
�It’s a blimmin’ miracle.’

  ‘Garn! Some kind o’ trick,’ sneered a passing street cleaner, leaning on his brush and spitting into the gutter. ‘Chuck ’im a coin.’

  The growing crowd parted and Janus appeared, placing the smoking ossifier back into his waistcoat pocket.

  ‘Now you have to decide, Edgy Taylor,’ he said, sawing furiously at the shoulder of his coat with a penknife, ‘what you’re going to do. You’ve put me to a lot of inconvenience today, not to mention a small amount of personal danger. It wasn’t easy tracking these demons down, you know.’

  The thick material gave way with a ripping sound and the statue keeled backwards, shattering into pieces on the unforgiving cobbles. Edgy flinched.

  ‘I-I’m sorry, Mr Janus,’ Edgy stammered. His head swam and his thoughts jumbled up on top of each other.

  ‘Apology accepted, lad, though what the governors will make of three ossifications in two days, I don’t know.’ Janus shook his head and pursed his lips for a second. Then he snapped his head up and fixed Edgy with a flinty glare. ‘Now what’s it to be? Are you going to take your chances here on the streets? Or are you willing to come back to the Society and work for us? I need your skills, Edgy.’

  ‘Work for you?’ Edgy asked, his jaw sagging. ‘Y’mean like a job?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Janus, pocketing his knife. ‘Your abilities would be invaluable to the Society and you’ve proved yourself to be fast and resourceful, if a little headstrong. I was going to offer the position to you this morning but you waltzed off – and ruined a perfectly good jacket. What do you think?’

  Edgy didn’t get a chance to reply. The third and final demon sprang up from behind Janus. Its long, warty fingers closed around his neck and yanked him off the ground, sending the penknife and ossifier clattering from his pockets to the ground.

  ‘I’ll wring this devious old buzzard’s neck, then rip your heart out,’ it sniggered.

  A tall gent stepped forward to challenge what he saw as a large ruffian taking hold of an old man. The demon swatted him away with its free hand as if he were a fly.

  Edgy lunged forward and snatched up the ossifier. It felt clumsy and alien in his hands, like a collapsed telescope. He wracked his brains. How did Mr Janus open it? Which way does it point?

  Janus made a gargling sound.

  Edgy tugged at the tube and it opened with a metallic click.

  A trickle of blood oozed from Janus’s mouth.

  Edgy aimed the tube and a cord tumbled from the back. Did Mr Janus pull this?

  The professor’s face bulged blue as he kicked feebly for his freedom.

  Edgy yanked at the cord and the ossifier produced a bang, winding Edgy and sending him stumbling back, away from Janus.

  The grey sludgeball whirled through the air. For a moment, Edgy feared he had missed as the ball arced left but the demon was huge and still in its path. It splattered on its shoulder. Janus’s eyes widened as he realised what was happening. Edgy ran forward. If the demon ossified with that grip then Janus would surely die. If he could break the grip, all might not be lost.

  Edgy pressed down on the demon’s greying thumb. Its eyes grew milky as life ebbed away. He could feel the stoniness creaking up its arm through its wrist. The creature slackened its grip slightly as it solidified and Edgy pulled at the fingers. Janus slumped to the ground, blood rushing to his face.

  The demon stood, arm extended, solid. Stone.

  Edgy crouched down. ‘Come on, Mr Janus, don’t die,’ he muttered, cradling him and slapping his cheek.

  Janus coughed and spluttered, spraying Edgy as his eyes flicked open. He struggled to his feet, propped up by Edgy.

  ‘That was close, Mr Taylor,’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘You need some target practice with the ossifier but thank you. You saved my life.’

  ‘We’re evens, then. You saved my life, I saved yours,’ Edgy said, extending his hand. Janus shook it weakly and nodded. ‘Now that it’s up to me if I stay or go, I’d like to accept that job if it’s still on offer?’

  Once more, Edgy lay on the rough bed in Sally’s room. Something had changed when he had saved Janus’s life. He didn’t feel trapped now. The demons outside had gone but Janus had given Edgy the impression that the danger was far from over.

  ‘This woman you told me about,’ Janus had said as he limped back to the Society. ‘The demons called her Salomé?’

  ‘They did, sir,’ Edgy replied. ‘They bowed to her. Is she really the Demon Queen?’

  ‘She is,’ Janus had said, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Things are shaping up, Edgy. Rumours abound among my demon sources. They say she seeks the corpse of Moloch. She already has the heart. Think of the havoc she could wreak if heart and body were reunited.’

  A prickle of dread had run up Edgy’s spine. ‘What do we do, Mr Janus?’

  ‘We find Moloch’s body first,’ Janus said, then frowned and chewed his lip. ‘But do me a favour: don’t mention Salomé to anyone. The governors won’t believe us until I have proper evidence and we don’t want anyone questioning your sanity again, do we?’

  Edgy shook his head. ‘No, I’ve had enough of people doin’ that.’

  Now Edgy rolled over on his bed and sighed. He had never been praised before. No one had ever told him he was useful and now Janus thought he was needed to stop Salomé from destroying the world. Maybe the Society could become his family, like it had Trimdon’s. Edgy smiled. I won’t let Mr Janus down.

  He flicked through A Demon a Day, trying to find any reference to Moloch. However, the book was being obstinate. Every time he turned a page, it seemed to be the same story. With a sigh, Edgy rolled on to his stomach, flattened the page and began to read.

  The Hunt

  In the early days, when the blue-green world was fresh and sparkled in the morning sun, Satan wandered among the forests, whistling and planning his next outrage against the Lord.

  As he stood in a glade dappled with sunlight, the sound of baying dogs shattered his thoughts. A wild boar burst out of the undergrowth beside him and fled through the trees. Soon the bark and howl of the pack grew nearer. Satan’s eyes glowed. There was bloodlust and excitement in that sound and in the bellow of the human voices urging them on.

  A pack of hounds surged into the glade, filling it as the sea drowns a rockpool. They leapt around Satan, almost knocking him off his feet. He laughed and stroked the lashing tails as they swished past him.

  Three men in furs came close behind. They held spears, sharp and pointed.

  ‘Forgive my dogs, sir,’ said the tallest and strongest looking of the men. ‘They did not see you in their excitement.’

  ‘You are gracious.’ Satan nodded. ‘I would have cursed anyone who dragged my dogs from the scent.’

  The man merely nodded and smiled back. ‘It is wise to befriend strangers, for sometimes they prove to be devils or angels in disguise. Join us in our hunt, sir, and share the spoils.’

  So Satan joined the hunt and after many hours of scrabbling through bushes, clambering over rocks and splashing across streams, they cornered the boar in a narrow ravine deep in the forest. The beast’s sides heaved for breath. Blood streamed down its sides and matted its fur. The men’s eyes glittered dark and deep. They held their spears as steadily as they could.

  And Satan watched in envy.

  The men closed in as the boar snorted and stamped the ground ready to charge.

  Satan knew why this was exciting.

  With a last roar of rage, the boar hurled itself forward. The men stood firm, hurling their spears.

  They could die, Satan thought. That’s what makes this exciting. They have a game. They have danger. He himself – a creature of light and flame – could never die. Nothing could hurt him.

  That night Satan sat at their campfire and shared their meat but it tasted like ash in his mouth. How could he enjoy anything again? For him, everything was so easily gained. To these men, every moment was precious because it could be ta
ken away in a second by the turn of a stag’s antler or a stumble of their horse. That’s what made life sweet.

  He took the hunter’s dagger and held it above the flame.

  ‘I swear that whoever uses this dagger against me shall find that it can take my life,’ he declared and handed it back to the hunter. ‘But whosoever kills me will also die.’

  ‘I will guard it,’ said the hunter, staring wide-eyed at the stranger at his campfire. ‘I shall keep this dagger a secret. None shall take arms against you, sir.’

  ‘Oh they will,’ muttered Satan, glancing around at the hunter’s men. Some glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. ‘For men talk. Men boast. Rumours spread. And there will be those who seek the Devil’s Dagger. Those who would gladly die to slay me. Whether for fame and glory or for their weakling God, they will seek that dagger and seek to kill me. That dagger will bring misery to every generation of your family unless you throw it away. For men brag. And none will brag more than those who have supped with the great Satan and lived to tell the tale!’

  And with that, he leapt up and ran into the night. Suddenly, Satan felt alive again. Excited. He was mortal – slightly. What a game was this! He could be killed and that made everything sweet.

  Edgy frowned. What did this have to do with anything? He turned the book over in his hands. Its cover glittered in the ruddy light. Snakeskin.

  A banging at Edgy’s door made Henry bark. Edgy leapt off the bed and swung the door open to be greeted by Sally, pale and serious, arms folded, her head to one side.

  ‘Look, if it’s about this room –’ Edgy began.

  ‘Never mind that,’ Sally muttered, giving a cruel grin through clenched teeth. ‘You’re to come with me. The governors want to see you and it’s trouble. I reckon I’ll have me room back within the hour.’

  All saint without, all devil within.