The Demon Collector

by Jon Mayhew

  Edgy shook his head, wondering if he would ever get a straight answer from a demon. The turkeys gave a startled cry as he lifted the trolley, their cries increasing as he moved off.

  ‘Where do I take ’em then?’ he asked.

  ‘Down below.’ Trimdon pointed to the floor with his free hand and then to the pipes that clustered along the roof of the corridor. ‘Follow the red pipe. Oh, and be careful – the lower lebels of the building are less, erm, well-policed, shall we say. And you’re going to the lowest lebel.’

  Edgy had become quite familiar with the upper levels of the Society but he had not yet ventured downstairs. Many of the upper rooms lay empty and shrouded in dust sheets, slowly decaying and out of use. The lower chambers were mainly for storage and the archiving of materials. The functional part of the building. He wondered what Trimdon meant by ‘less well-policed’. Were there marauding demons down there? He followed the red pipe.

  ‘Keep an eye out, Henry,’ Edgy muttered. Henry licked his lips and stared at the hell turkeys. Edgy shook his head. ‘How can yer? They’re ’orrible.’

  Hoot, the hell turkeys cried. Kark.

  The pipe veered right into a long, twisting flight of stairs that led downwards.

  ‘Oh joy,’ Edgy murmured, looking from the wheels of the trolley to the stairs.

  CLUNK! Hoot! BANG! Kark! Deeper underground, further down he went, banging the trolley and making the turkeys jump. Henry snapped at them as they squawked. Edgy cursed, sweating with each step.

  At the bottom step, Edgy leaned on the trolley, panting. The corridor before him sloped down even further.

  ‘No more steps though, boy,’ he said. Henry wagged his tail and trotted ahead.

  The gloom increased as he descended; the hellfire lamps seemed feeble in these passages. Rough-hewn flagstones replaced the usual black-and-white marble floor tiles of the ground floor. Everything here seemed much older; the doors that led off the corridor were studded with iron and topped with stone arches. The echo of Henry’s panting and the hoots and karks of the turkeys bounced off the bare stone walls, which felt dry and coarse when Edgy put his hand against them.

  He stopped in front of a huge iron door twice his height. Rivets the size of Edgy’s fists reinforced the dull metal and held it on two hinges as thick as his thighs. The words BOILER ROOM had been etched into a brass plaque. He reached out and grasped a large handle. The door felt hot. Edgy pulled and the hinges squealed as it opened.

  The heat hit Edgy first, followed by a bright red light and the stink of burning coal. It was like opening an oven door. He shielded his eyes and peered in. Seven imps, very like Spinorix in appearance – small and red – scurried around a huge metal fire box. Inside a furnace roared loudly. The imps took it in turns to shovel coal from a mountainous pile into the box. One rammed his shovel into the black heap while another heaved his coal into the small doorway in the front of the box. Sweat glistened on their ruddy skin. Their horns and tails reflected the infernal glow. Every now and then Edgy heard the hiss of steam as it blasted from a valve in the pipes that snaked their way from two massive boilers that filled half the room. The imps didn’t pause for one second.

  ‘Hello?’ Edgy called over the din.

  ‘Can’t stop,’ one imp yelled back. ‘Break our rhythm. Gotta keep this thing boilin’.’

  ‘Dump ’em there and then get out,’ snapped another imp as he threw his load into the furnace. ‘And move it – you’re letting all the heat escape! Don’t want the governors to freeze, do we?’

  The imps gave a wicked cackle in unison but never stopped scooping and throwing the coal into the furnace.

  Edgy raised an eyebrow but wheeled the turkeys into the room. Their cries were lost in the rumbling of the furnace. The heat seared his cheeks and hurt his eyes. He tipped the turkey cages off the trolley and dragged it out. With a grunt, he swung the door shut and leaned heavily against the wall, panting for breath. Henry looked longingly towards the door and the turkeys behind it.

  As he rested, a breeze blew across his cheeks. Edgy closed his eyes and savoured the cool caress. It felt so welcome. And was there something else – a sound, singing? Edgy strained to listen. Distantly, he heard a wordless song, slow and mournful, yet beautiful too. It called to him.

  A smile played on Edgy’s lips as he drifted down the corridor. The singing grew louder, more distinct; a slow melancholy tune, a single voice.

  Wordless.

  Hypnotising.

  The breeze felt refreshing, soothing. Edgy’s smile grew. He loved the singing. He loved the chill of the breeze. He noticed, with mild curiosity, a brass door set into the rough wall that marked the end of the corridor. It was slightly ajar. The song came from beyond it. It invited him in. Henry whined and growled, making Edgy frown.

  ‘Quiet, boy. Listen – it’s calling me.’ Edgy took a step forward. The singing grew louder. ‘I have to go. I want to go . . .’

  He was being drawn and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

  From a closed door, the devil turns away.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Portrait

  Professor Milberry appeared from behind the door and clanged it shut behind her. Edgy started as if he’d woken suddenly from a dream.

  ‘Edgy, what are you doing here?’ She stared down at him, her brow furrowed with concern.

  ‘I was deliverin’ turkeys. I heard . . . singin’.’ Edgy shook himself. His head felt fuzzy and vague. Slowly he came to his senses. Milberry bent down and brought her face level with Edgy’s. She ruffled his thick black hair.

  ‘You must never go through that door, Edgy,’ she said. ‘It is highly dangerous.’

  ‘Why? What’s behind it?’ Edgy asked, peering over her shoulder at the door.

  ‘Tunnels,’ she replied. ‘Miles upon miles of tunnels, in fact. A Maze. Once you go in, you’d never find your way out.’

  ‘But that singing – it was beautiful.’

  ‘The creature doing the singing is not so pretty,’ Milberry said, shuddering. ‘The Echolites – for that is what they are called – inhabited these underground caverns eons before the Society excavated and extended them. Though, usually, they tend to lurk in deeper passages. What’s bringing them to the surface, I couldn’t say.’

  ‘The Society dug the tunnels?’ Edgy asked.

  Milberry gave a wry grin. ‘In the early days, the first fellows believed that hell lay beneath the earth. They thought the best way to wage war on evil was to find it, to dig it up.’ Her swarthy face grew grim and pale. ‘All they found were the Echolites. Hideous creatures who lure the unsuspecting into the dark and then devour them. In the end, the Society lost so many fellows it was decided to seal the tunnels up.’ Milberry nodded to the door behind her.

  ‘It’s a huge door,’ Edgy said.

  ‘It has to be. The Echolites aren’t the only things lurking in those tunnels,’ Milberry said. ‘It was fortunate I happened to be down here when you came. Who left the door open like that, I couldn’t guess. Now let’s get you back up to the more respectable levels.’

  She turned a huge key in the lock and took Edgy back up.

  The rest of the day passed without event, but Edgy had no opportunity to visit Spinorix until early evening. However, on his way to the exhibition hall, he bumped into Mortesque Sokket.

  ‘Ah, so you’re there, are you?’ he muttered. ‘I need you to polish the furniture in my office – getting frightfully dusty. Hop to it now!’

  Edgy cursed under his breath. Tiny artefacts littered every surface of Sokket’s office and everything wore a thick coating of dust. As he wiped and cleaned, he imagined Janus reading the book with widening eyes and then rushing to the exhibition hall.

  Edgy’s hand swept over the cover of a book from the library. It lay on the desk, the snakeskin cover smooth and glistening. The title shone out in silver: The Legends of Moloch. Why does Sokket have a copy? Is he trying to find the
arch-demon’s corpse too?

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sokket appeared behind Edgy and planted a hand firmly on the book, covering the title. ‘You aren’t paid to read the books, boy. You’re here to clean.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Edgy nodded and twitched his gaze to his feet. ‘Sorry, sir.’

  ‘Should think so too,’ Sokket sniffed. ‘Now clear off.’

  Edgy ran from Sokket’s study back to his room.

  Madame Lillith shuffled around the corner, swishing her broom as she went. She glared at him, her amber eyes aflame. She looked down at Edgy’s boots.

  ‘Wish I ’ad a pair like that,’ she spat and swept on past him.

  Edgy stared after her. He shook his head as he found himself at his bedroom door. This whole building and everyone in it was beyond him.

  A picture stood propped up against his bed. Its gold frame glimmered in the feeble light of the room. It looked like one of the portraits from the corridor walls. A stern man with a long, scarred face sneered at him. He didn’t seem quite so grand staring up from the floor instead of down from the wall. Edgy peered harder. Henry whined and scraped at the door. Edgy ignored him. Something about the man in the picture looked familiar. Where have I seen that long face? Why would someone put a picture in my room? For safe-keeping? Henry barked.

  ‘Quiet, boy, I’m thinking. Just wait,’ he snapped. Maybe the portrait had fallen off and someone wanted him to put it back up in the morning. Then it struck him.

  Edgy had seen the man in the picture haunting the library. He was one of the lost souls drifting among the books. The dark background behind the man rippled. Edgy blinked. A chill realisation wrapped itself around his shoulders, prickling his scalp. How stupid can I be? Sally had warned him not to look too hard at the portraits and here he was staring into one. But now he couldn’t move his eyes.

  The blackness at the man’s shoulder swirled like water down a hole. Edgy’s heart pounded. Two huge luminous eyes glowed from the centre of the spiral. Edgy stood transfixed in the middle of the room. A clawed finger wriggled through the opening gap in the picture, then another. Soon a whole hand and a hideous face poked out of the portrait. Henry barked and clawed at the door. Edgy stared at the emerging creature, fascinated, unable to look away.

  Expressionless orbs dominated the head. Sabre-like teeth poked up from a thin, downturned mouth. A few strands of lank green hair drifted from its scabby, green head. Henry growled and barked at the creature but it kept its gaze on Edgy. It pushed a skinny shoulder through and started to wriggle its way free from the picture. The canvas clung to it like a thick mud. All this time, the creature fixed him with its gaze.

  A terrible stench of stagnant water filled the room and Edgy noticed that the scene behind the man in the picture was a black pool with dead reeds poking from its slick surface. This must be where it lives, he thought.

  It slapped one foot on the floor of the room, leaving a puddle of stinking black water. It reached forward with long, clawed fingers and Edgy caught a glimpse of the pool behind it. Pale faces beneath the surface. Bloated with staring eyes. A strange calmness came over him. Henry’s barking faded into the distance.

  It’ll drag me into the picture and drown me in the pool too. There’s nothing I can do.

  The bedroom door flew open with a bang, waking Edgy from his stupor. Henry yelped, spinning round. A cold hand gripped Edgy’s arm at the elbow and yanked.

  ‘Get out of there!’ Sally yelled, pulling at him.

  Edgy felt wet fingers slap around his other arm at the wrist. Edgy struggled against the creature’s grasp. A sickening, sabre-toothed grin cracked its face. Sally heaved again and his shoulder burned with the strain. Edgy wrenched back again. The creature’s face fell as it slid on its slimy feet and they inched back, but its grip remained as firm as iron. Edgy’s shoulder felt as if it would come out of its socket. Sally and Edgy pulled again but the creature just slid closer. Edgy lashed out with his foot only to have that grabbed too.

  ‘Don’t let go, Sally,’ he sobbed.

  His calmness had quickly evaporated. Now Edgy wriggled and pulled with all his might as the creature tried to edge back towards the picture with him in tow.

  Henry darted and yapped at the creature. For the first time it snarled down at him. Henry snarled back and it lashed out with its webbed foot. At the same time, Sally gave a huge tug. Edgy screamed as pain lanced up his shoulder. The creature tottered and fell to the ground with a wet slap, losing its grip. Sally and Edgy tumbled out through the door and into the passageway. Edgy lay there, stunned, feeling Sally’s cold breath on his cheek, her icy fingers still gripping his arm.

  The creature unfolded its skinny body, preparing to spring forward, but Sally leapt up. Edgy just glimpsed Henry bounding towards the monster, teeth bared, and then Sally threw herself forward, slamming the door shut.

  ‘No!’ Edgy panted, scrabbling to get up. ‘Henry’s still in there!’

  An unholy howl filled the air. Edgy could hear Henry yelping and barking. Something smashed against the door.

  Then all fell silent.

  He who sups with the devil should use a long spoon.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Twenty

  A Strange Bargain

  Pushing Sally aside, Edgy ripped the door open. Darkness filled the room. The creature had gone. The picture lay on the floor ripped to pieces, its frame snapped and bent double against the wall. Henry lay on his side, his ribcage heaving. A little trail of blood trickled from his mouth. He didn’t get to his feet but his tail flicked feebly as Edgy crouched by him. He hugged the wounded terrier, feeling the dog’s heart beat weakly against his chest.

  ‘Henry, poor Henry,’ Edgy sobbed.

  ‘Is he badly hurt?’ Sally said, her voice faint.

  ‘Can’t see any cuts but he can’t move and his breathing’s getting weaker,’ Edgy said, scuffing at his eyes with his sleeve. ‘Who could help him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Sally bit her lip. ‘Professor Milberry works a lot with nature spirits but I don’t think she knows much about animals.’ She kicked the frame of the picture with her foot. ‘What were you doing with the picture in the first place?’

  ‘It was in the room when I arrived. Someone must’ve put it ’ere,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway, there’s no time for that. What am I going to do about poor Henry?’ The dog gave a whine and lapped at Edgy’s cheek.

  ‘I told you, I don’t know. There’s nobody in the Society with that kind of knowledge.’

  ‘Knowledge,’ Edgy said. The snake will know what to do.

  He bundled Henry up close to him and ran out of the room. Sally ran behind, her feet tapping as Edgy’s boots rang on the tiles.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she called after him.

  But Edgy didn’t answer. Henry’s breathing grew shallower with every clattering footstep.

  ‘Come on, old chap,’ Edgy panted, trying to cushion him in his arms from the jogging up and down. ‘Hold on.’ Henry’s eyes flickered and closed. His breathing became more rapid. ‘Hold on, boy, hold on.’

  Edgy gritted his teeth and tried to remember his way. But suddenly the door to the library loomed before him. Edgy slammed against it, dashing into the blue twilight of the hall, and stopped so abruptly that Sally crashed into his back.

  After the tumbling rush down the passages, the library seemed tranquil and quiet. Edgy glanced from bookshelf to table, desperate to find the snake.

  ‘Hello? Snake?’ Edgy yelled. What should he call the creature who presided over the library?

  ‘Back so soon, Edgy Taylor?’ a voice hissed to his right. The leaves shivered and the snake slithered from between two large volumes. ‘What have we here? A canine. In bad shape.’

  ‘Can you make him better?’ Edgy said, easing Henry down on to the floor. The dog’s breath came out in wheezing gasps now.

  The snake’s eyes glowed brightly. ‘Probably but what point would there be in that?’

  ‘We
ll, I . . .’ Edgy didn’t know what to say. He’d expected the snake to make Henry better. He hadn’t thought he’d say no.

  ‘What I mean to say,’ the snake slid closer, circling Henry, ‘is, what’s in it for me?’

  ‘Edgy –’ Sally said, grabbing hold of his arm. He shook her off.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he said. The snake slid around Edgy’s ankle and stared up at him.

  ‘I mean, Edgy Taylor, if I save this scruffy hound,’ he hissed, ‘what can you offer me in return?’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Edgy.’ Sally’s voice sounded full of fear. ‘He’ll take your soul.’

  ‘His soul? Now there’s an idea,’ snapped the snake. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. Full of good ideas, your friend. Lucky she just happened to turn up when the creature came out of the picture.’

  Edgy stared down at him. How could he possibly know what had just happened in the bedroom?

  ‘I am knowledge, Edgy Taylor. I know. So do you want me to save the mutt?’ the snake hissed, curling up his knee.

  Henry gave a strangled sigh. A little froth bubbled from his lolling tongue. Edgy ran his fingers over Henry’s smooth ears. He and Henry had been firm friends through the worst of times. Edgy had lost count of the number of kickings Henry had received trying to stop Talon from beating him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, staring at the snake. ‘What do you want in exchange?’

  ‘Edgy, no!’ Sally ran forward and grabbed his elbow again. ‘Don’t do this. If he takes your soul, you’ll end up like . . . like . . .’

  ‘Like who, missy?’ The snake coiled itself around Edgy’s waist, its tail still lost in the depths of the shadows. ‘Like you? I did you a favour in return for your silence many years ago. Look at you. A lifeless husk, eaten up with jealousy and hatred. Who did put the picture in Edgy’s room? Didn’t it used to be your room?’

  ‘Stop it.’ Edgy pushed Sally away. Did she try to get rid of me?