The Demon Collector (5 page)

Chapter Five

The Unwelcome

A glowering red face snarled down at Edgy, its long nose pressed against his. Orange eyes burned with fury and stubby little horns butted his forehead. The fingers tightened and, for a moment, it was as though he was back in Talon’s merciless grasp.

‘Give them back, you thief!’ snarled the demon, pinning him to the floor. ‘Where have you hidden them?’

‘Spinorix!’ Janus yelled. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’

‘Ask the little worm!’ Spinorix spat. ‘He can tell . . . Owwwwww!’

The demon suddenly loosened his grip on Edgy’s neck and turned. With a snarl, Henry had sunk his teeth into the demon’s tail. Edgy, feeling the creature’s balance shift, pushed forward, sending him sprawling on to the polished floor.

A small demon with large, floppy ears lay before Edgy. He was red from head to foot – red skin, red suit and tie, red hair greased back and plaited in a ponytail. His eyes were wide and he panted heavily as he tried to stand up. Sweat trickled down his furrowed brow and round his short horns. Spinorix tumbled sideways, his tail still firmly gripped by Henry’s teeth. He writhed and wriggled, swatting at Henry ineffectually.

‘By the sweetbreads of Cerberus! Call him off, call off this hound of hell!’

‘Don’t see why I should,’ Edgy snapped.

‘Please, I beg you. Professor Janus, tell him to release me!’ Spinorix whined.

‘That’s up to Edgy. What were you thinking of, attacking him like that?’ Janus said, putting his hands on his hips.

‘Ow, oh, owww,’ Spinorix moaned.

Edgy shook his head and clicked his fingers. Henry dropped the tail immediately. Spinorix jumped up, tears coursing down his red cheeks.

‘Well?’ Edgy demanded, copying Janus’s pose.

‘I’m sorry, I thought you were the other boy,’ Spinorix began.

‘Other boy?’ Edgy said, frowning. ‘What other boy?’

Janus gave an embarrassed cough. ‘We had an errand boy –’

‘A thief!’ Spinorix hissed, massaging his tail. ‘He’s been taking things from the exhibition hall.’

‘Now you can’t be sure of that, Spinorix,’ Janus said, pursing his lips. ‘Perhaps you’ve just mislaid . . .’

Spinorix went a deeper shade of crimson. ‘With respect, sir, I do not “mislay” valuable artefacts.’ He trembled and gripped his tail tightly. ‘Things have gone missing and where’s the boy now?’

‘You’ll have to forgive Spinorix, Edgy, he’s an imp and as such is prone to melodrama. As for the boy, he’ll turn up, I’ve no doubt,’ Janus murmured, frowning at Spinorix. ‘Anyway, who’s watching the collection now?’

The imp’s colour drained. With a squawk, he turned on his heel and clattered down the corridor. Janus gave a chuckle and watched him vanish.

‘A dedicated imp but a little excitable, I think. Spends far too much time in the exhibition hall,’ Janus said. ‘I’ll take you to your room now.’

Edgy thought of the boy he’d seen die only hours before. He had a smart suit. Black. Woollen. Perfect stitching. Just like his new one.

‘Ah, good evening, Madame Lillith,’ Janus smiled, looking beyond Edgy.

Edgy turned. A round lady, her hair pulled up in a tight bun, swept the tiled floor behind him. She looked up from her work with narrowed eyes. Her brush scraped the tiles with short, vicious strokes, her green silk dress swishing in time to them. She watched them pass.

Henry’s head flicked back and forth with the brush; his tail wagged to the same rhythm. He gave a playful yelp and snapped at the brush. Madame Lillith stopped and glared at him.

‘Sorry.’ Edgy smiled as her eyes bored into him. ‘C’mon, Henry. Leave it.’

Edgy heaved a sigh of relief as they turned a corner and left her behind. For a moment he forgot the boy in the street. As they walked, Edgy felt the floor slope downwards. The lower they went, the plainer the decor became. The walls in this part of the Society were plain plaster rather than wooden panelling.
Servants’ quarters
.

‘She’s a demon of envy,’ Janus explained as they walked on. ‘Anything you have, she wants it.’

‘Didn’t you say that demons are meant to make
us
sin?’ Edgy wondered aloud.

‘You’re absolutely right, Edgy, but, like Slouch, most demons fall prey to their own weaknesses first. Madame Lillith is so eaten up with jealousy that she’s practically human. It’s only a matter of time before mortality sets in. It happens to a lot of demons. Ah, here we are . . .’ Janus said, swinging open a rough plank door to reveal a small room with a table, wash-basin and jug.

On the bed sat a pale young girl, rubbing her hands and fingers as if she were trying to get warm. She jumped up, startled.

‘Sally, what’re you doing in here?’ Janus frowned.

The girl folded her arms defiantly. She was about Edgy’s age and quite pretty, he thought, though very pale. Edgy would have called her long, wavy hair blonde but actually it was white. Her dress, which was tied up with a ribbon around her thin waist, was white. Her boots and stockings were white too. Everything about her was white but not a clean-laundry kind of white. It was more of a bleached, faded white.

‘Just resting,’ she sniffed, sounding quite cheeky to Edgy’s mind. ‘I
do
rest sometimes, you know.’

‘Well, you can’t rest in here, young lady. This is Edgy Taylor. It’s his room now,’ Janus said with raised eyebrows.

Sally’s eyes widened and Edgy couldn’t help noticing the dark circles underneath, as if she hadn’t slept for a week. She stamped her foot.

‘It’s
my
room – it has been since 1735,’ she yelled, stamping again. ‘Why can’t he go somewhere else?’

‘You know full well that we’re short on beds, Sally, and you don’t actually need yours.’

‘It’s not fair,’ she snapped and punched her hands down at her sides. ‘Just because I’m dead –’

‘Dead? Is she a ghost, Mr Janus?’ Edgy whispered, hugging Henry, unable to take his eyes off her. Now he came to think of it, she didn’t look quite right. A bit too thin and gaunt.

‘I am here, you know,’ Sally said with a gasp. ‘And, no, I’m not a ghost. I’m a revenant – there is a difference!’

‘Well, whatever you like to call yourself, go and haunt some other chamber,’ Janus snapped back at her.

With a squeal of outrage, Sally flew into the passage and Janus shut the door on her. Edgy could hear her yelling and raging outside as Janus scratched his head.

‘Sorry about that, Edgy,’ he smiled. ‘I’d forgotten about Sally.’

‘But she said she was dead,’ Edgy whispered, looking sidelong at the door, trying to ignore the curses being hurled at its other side.

‘She’s right, really – she’s a revenant. A returned one. Not a spirit or phantom as we might imagine but one who has died . . . and then come back.’

‘She can’t walk through walls or anything then?’ Edgy asked, eyeing the door again.

Janus shook his head and sat on the bed. ‘She’s flesh and blood . . . kind of. Sally was brought back over a hundred years ago by Glassten Lustenbrück during his investigations into the afterlife. A very clever man – I still have his notes, some of his experiments were quite ground-breaking.’

‘Don’t suppose Sally was particularly impressed,’ Edgy murmured, feeling sorry for the girl.

‘What?’ Janus muttered. ‘No, I suppose not. I’d not really thought of it that way.’ He sat in silence for a moment, as if ruminating on the idea, then shook himself and jumped up. ‘Anyway, it sounds as if she’s gone for now. If she bothers you again, just let Trimdon know. Try and get some sleep – you’ll need all your strength tomorrow. Oh, and I got you this.’

He pulled a small book from his pocket and presented it to Edgy. He took a deep breath. Nobody had ever given him anything apart from harsh words and cruel blows. Now here he was – clean, clothed, fed and being given a gift.

‘That’s all right, sir,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve been too kind already.’

‘Nonsense, my boy.’ Janus beamed at him, placing the book on the bed. ‘I’ll leave it here. You get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.’

Janus left, closing the door gently behind him.

Edgy picked the book up and shivered. It felt warm in his hands. Not like the warmth that came from being in someone’s pocket but warm like a living thing.

‘
Everyday Daemonologie
,’ he read aloud, ‘
Or a Demon a Day
.’

The book, covered in black scales, glistened in Edgy’s hand. The shifting colours within it reminded him of the swirls of oily blue and purple he’d seen on the wings of black beetles.

He glanced out of the small window and into Eden Square. Three dark figures sat hunched around the statue of Satan.

Edgy lay on the bed but sleep didn’t come. He flicked through the book. It wasn’t like any book he’d seen before – not that he’d seen many. Edgy wasn’t sure he liked it but it fascinated him. Certain articles jumped out at him again and again. Others he skimmed through once and then they couldn’t be found again no matter how hard he searched.

He flicked through woodcut pictures of huge demons locked in combat, armies of devils bearing cruel weapons, assembling on vast plains. Titles such as
Getting the Best out of Imps
and
Asmodeus Proposes
jostled with
The Role of the Governing Body at the Royal Society
, until his head whirled with jumbled-up facts.

‘
Imps are the most minor of demons,
’ he read aloud, totally engrossed. ‘
Usually the lost souls of unbaptised child­ren or babies kidnapped by demons. Imps are the workforce of hell. They make fiercely loyal friends and annoyingly obstructive enemies.
’ Edgy thought about Spinorix and his anger about things going missing.

Another passage caught his attention:

In 1797, Hector Corvis, seventh Earl of Rookery Heights, invited a hooded stranger to install panelling to the Royal Society. Bizarrely, once this stranger had finished, fellows of the Society soon found themselves lost in their own building. It was the associate demon Asmodeus who discovered that because of the demonic decor one had to think of the approp­riate location to find one’s way there, as he was often fond of saying, ‘Just think where you might be tempted to stray and you’ll find yourself there . . . but one still has to walk.’ Typical demon capriciousness.

Edgy looked down at Henry, who lay curled at the foot of his bed. ‘Well, that settles that,’ he murmured. ‘This place is a nuthouse. First thing tomorrow, we’re off, demons or no demons. It’s all well and good livin’ like this but I’ll take me chances, I think, Henry, old chap.’

Henry gave a contented whine and buried his muzzle in his chest. Gradually the events of the day took their toll on Edgy and he fell into a restless, dream-filled sleep, chased by demons and dead boys, carriages and the grinning face of Janus.

Devils can’t be driven out with devils.

Traditional proverb

Chapter Six

The Exhibition Hall

Grey shafts of morning light coaxed Edgy out of his sleep. He stretched. Normally at this time of day he’d be shiver­ing at the cold and rubbing his hands together, but every inch of the Society glowed with heat. Edgy felt good – well fed, clean and dry. He’d never been able to say that. Henry yawned and shook himself, jumping off the bed. Edgy rubbed the condensation off the tiny windowpanes and peered through.

Mist made the surrounding buildings grey and ­indistinct. A white frost cloaked Eden Square but the three demons had stayed close to the Satan statue. Edgy could see steamy breath clouding around their curling horns as they stamped out the cold. One of them glanced up, making Edgy pull back from the window, his unease creeping back.

‘Still there, Henry,’ Edgy murmured. ‘How are we goin’ to get away from this place?’

He picked up the book and stuffed it in his pocket. The heat stifled him, made him feel trapped. Edgy reached for the latch of the door.

‘Let’s go an’ find a way out, shall we?’

He opened the door and gave a yell. Sally stood right in the threshold, making Edgy fall back. She must have been standing with her face pressed against the door to be so close when he opened it. Henry barked and scampered off down the corridor into the gloom.

‘Henry!’ Edgy called, but he had vanished. ‘Look what you’ve done now!’

‘Well, you shouldn’t have taken my room!’ Sally’s ice-blue eyes burned and she stood glaring, hands on hips.

‘I ’aven’t taken your stupid room – I’m not stoppin’.’ Edgy picked himself up from the floor. ‘But if Henry comes to any harm, you’ll wish you were properly dead!’

Sally’s face crumpled. A sadness swept across it. She turned and stalked off down the passageway.

‘I already do,’ she said, without looking back. Edgy could hear the tears in her voice but he hurried in the opposite direction in search of Henry.

If Edgy hadn’t seen the daylight through his bedroom window, he wouldn’t have known whether it was day or night in the gloomy corridors.