The Demon Collector

by Jon Mayhew

  Henry padded up to him, nuzzling and whining in fear. Edgy shook himself. The fire was spreading quickly, devouring its way through the dusty volumes.

  Yanking the dagger from the snake’s neck, Edgy sawed at Spinorix’s bindings.

  ‘Edgy, I was so scared, I thought –’

  ‘No time now! Free Trimdon, I’ll get Milberry,’ Edgy barked. He sliced through Milberry’s ropes while Spinorix chewed at Trimdon’s with his sharp teeth.

  Milberry staggered to her feet, mute with shock and grief. She hugged Edgy hard, sobbing.

  The flames roared in their ears now, scorching them as they plunged through the doors of the library. Edgy carried Sally, stumbling on the burning spars and broken glass that clogged the floor. Impervious to the heat, Spinorix heaved burning beams aside and led the way as they ­scurried out, covering their mouths. Edgy glimpsed bubbling oil paintings, warped faces screaming in the backgrounds as they melted.

  At the entrance hall Slouch still lay on his sofa despite it now being a roaring pyre. Huge beams from the upper floors had crashed down through the ceiling and molten copper dripped from the pipes.

  ‘Slouch!’ Milberry cried. ‘Come with us, quickly.’

  ‘Nah,’ Slouch grinned through the flames. ‘I quite like it here – it’s warm for a change.’

  Edgy pushed them on, gasping great breaths of air as they stumbled out on to the steps at the front of the Society. He lay Sally down gently and slumped next to her, letting exhaustion take him at last.

  Epilogue

  Edgy laid the flowers on Sally’s grave. Pure white ­chrysanthemums. They reminded him of her somehow.

  ‘We’re startin’ again, Sal,’ he said. ‘Professor Milberry, Spin, Trimdon an’ me. We’re goin’ to start the Society again. Not like it was before, but properly this time. Collectin’ evidence an’ leavin’ what precious few demons there are well alone. The old building’s destroyed – every last ossifier, statue, skeleton an’ mounted head. All gone. Milberry is sellin’ the land an’ we’re goin’ to live in the country, away from pryin’ eyes. That way Spin an’ Trimdon won’t have to disguise themselves. You wanna see Spin! He looks proper strange disguised as a human, all knobbly elbows and bulgy eyes. He’d probably get fewer odd looks in the street if he stayed red, horns an’ all.’

  ‘Come along, Edgy, the carriage is waiting,’ called Milberry, standing by the cemetery gates.

  ‘Who’re you, my mother or somethin’?’ he called over his shoulder to her and then gave a secret smile. ‘You were right, Sal. My family are ’ere. An’ though I miss yer, I’m glad you’re back with yours now.’ He stood and put his bowler hat back on. ‘I’ll come an’ visit regular as I can, like.’ Edgy turned around.

  Milberry, Spinorix and Trimdon stood by the waiting hackney carriage. Spin hopped up and down impatiently. Trimdon, disguised as an old gentleman with a walrus beard, tapped his cane on the pavement.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Milberry asked, her brown hair blown by the breeze.

  Edgy nodded. She smiled and hugged him close.

  ‘Let’s get going then. The train leaves at twelve and we don’t want to miss it,’ Milberry said, climbing into the carriage.

  Happy families, Edgy thought. They’re possible after all. Even if you do have the heart of a demon.

  Also by Jon Mayhew

  Mortlock

  Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Berlin, New York and Sydney

  First published in Great Britain in March 2011 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY

  Text copyright © Jon Mayhew 2011

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Epigraphs: traditional folk songs, traditional folk ballads and traditional proverbs

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or

  transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying

  or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

  A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

  EPUB 978 1 4088 1779 7

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