The Demon Collector (17 page)

Edgy laughed and leaned against the doorframe. ‘Leave it, Henry,’ he said, breathless, recovering from the jump the cat had given him.

But Henry was nowhere to be seen.

‘Henry?’ Edgy called, taking a few paces back up the corridor.

A footstep scuffed the floor. Pain exploded in the back of his head as something struck him from behind and Edgy plunged into blackness.

Edgy came to slowly. A steady, rhythmic pounding rattled his head, mingling with the dull ache behind his ear. His eyes felt heavy and for a moment he lay with them shut. Then his whole body shuddered and jolted as whatever he lay on moved. Edgy snapped his eyes open and tried to sit up. Thick rope tied his feet tightly together. His hands were similarly pinned behind his back.

Ossified demons surrounded him – some quite old, judging by the moss and cracks that covered them. They wobbled and shuddered as the floor shifted and trembled. Edgy shook his head, trying to clear it. They were moving in a jerking dance. Move, one, two, three. Bang. Move, one, two, three. Bang. Wriggling and grunting, Edgy managed to get into a sitting position. The pounding hadn’t stopped but seemed to be getting louder. His heart thudded three times to every loud thump that echoed around him. Leaning against a statue, Edgy worked his way into a standing position.

Panic seized him.

He was on a slow-moving conveyor belt about six to eight feet wide. Hundreds of ossified demons were crowded on to it, wobbling and rocking like milk churns on a wagon. Up ahead some twenty feet away, a huge machine straddled the belt, like a bridge over a stream of demons. Every three seconds the belt lurched forward bringing a clutch of demons under the bridge. Move, one, two, three.

Bang. A colossal metal plate slammed down from within the bridge, crushing the ossified demons to rubble and sending splinters of rock whizzing in all directions.

Edgy pulled at his bindings, falling back down and wriggling like some crazed worm. He had only a couple of minutes at the most to get free.

The rope seemed to tighten as he kicked and rolled in the tiny space between the wobbling demons. Edgy yelled in agony as one of them fell over his legs and the weight of solid stone pinned him down.

‘H
elp
!’ he screamed.

His stomach muscles burned as he tried to wriggle free from under the statue. Edgy could smell the oil and grease of the machine now.
It’s so close. How long? Another thirty seconds?
Cursing, he tried in vain to roll free, thrashing his body from left to right. The thud of the hammer deafened him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the dust and shards of rock that stung his face as the demons directly ahead of him exploded.

She spoke no word, her tears

They fell a salten flood,

And from her draggled ribbons

Washed out the stains of blood.

‘Oh, Mother, I am dying,

And when in my grave I’m laid,

Upon my bosom, Mother,

Then pin a green cockade.’

‘Green Cockade’, traditional folk song

Chapter Twenty
-
Two

Death and Stone

Edgy slumped on to the conveyor belt. It was useless. Sweat chilled his back. He groaned in despair.

A sharp barking suddenly sounded above the commotion of the crusher. Henry popped up over the statues and leapt down on to his chest. He plastered his wet tongue all over Edgy’s face.

‘Henry?’ Sally’s voice cut through the hissing and pounding. ‘Henry, where are you? Have you found him?’

‘Edgy!’ This time it was Spinorix. Henry barked again.

‘Here! I’m here!’ Edgy tried to lift his head up above the encircling statues. ‘Help! I’m trapped.’

The conveyor belt shunted forward. Edgy coughed and spluttered as rock dust filled his mouth and nostrils. His ears rang with the blast from the hammer. The dog’s yelps were frantic now.

Spinorix’s huge eyes appeared over the top of the demon that pinned Edgy. ‘Hold on!’ he cried, pulling at the stone arm of the statue. He looked tiny and insignificant against its huge bulk. The pounding of the hammer sent him hurtling over the demon and above Edgy’s head. Henry barked and wagged his tail.

Sally clambered up on to the conveyor next. She fumbled with the knotted rope at Edgy’s wrists and his hands were free. She pointed at the statue pinning his legs. ‘You’ll have to push too, Edgy,’ she yelled above the grinding of the machine. ‘On my count.’

Life tingled back into Edgy’s hands and as he focused on the count, the incessant clanking and crashing seemed to fade. Sally’s voice was all he heard.

‘ONE,’ she cried.

Edgy drew his breath and gritted his teeth. He pressed his numb hands against the cold stone.

‘TWO.’

Edgy tensed every muscle in his body, every fibre, to use it against the statue that crushed him.

‘THREE!’ Sally screamed.

Edgy’s scream merged with hers, topped by a screeching falsetto from Spinorix. Edgy lunged forward with all his strength, sending the statue beneath the crusher. Sally, Henry and Spinorix tumbled in a free fall off the conveyor.

Edgy grabbed at the other statues around him, pulling himself to his feet. With another yell, he hurled himself backwards, his legs still tied. Pain lanced up his back and shoulders as he landed with a jarring crunch on the cavern floor, groaning in agony. For a moment, he lay, trying to catch his breath, listening to the clatter of the machine. Then, with a huge hiss of steam and a rather melancholy sigh, it stopped. Edgy dragged himself into a sitting position.

Across the cave, Sally stood with a lever in her hand, looking rather pleased with herself.

‘Edgy, are you all right?’ Spinorix bounded over and, in his excitement, ended up crashing straight into him. Edgy fell back, winded once more. Spinorix slapped his hands to his head. ‘By Beelzebub’s bulbous buttocks, I’ve killed him! Oh, Edgy, I’m so sorry, so, so sorry!’ Tears began to trickle down his long nose.

‘Behave, I’m not dead yet,’ Edgy gasped, rolling on to his side and sitting up again. Henry started up, scouring his face and jumping up at him.

‘You’re lucky that Henry’s so fond of you,’ Sally said. ‘I found him outside your room, barking and whining. So I followed him –’

‘
We
followed him,’ Spinorix cut in. ‘Though he’s hard to keep up with – that hellhound can run!’

‘Thanks,’ Edgy said, groaning as he picked himself up. ‘Y’know . . . for savin’ me.’

‘’S all right,’ Sally said, giving a white-lipped smile and looking at her feet.

Spinorix concentrated on twisting his fingers together and rocked from one foot to the other. An awkward silence descended on the trio for a moment.

Edgy coughed, breaking the spell. ‘Someone clobbered me from behind.’ He put a hand to the back of his neck, feeling a lump just behind his ear. Every joint ached, every muscle complained and his head pounded. ‘Where are we?’

‘We’re deep beneath the Society – a cavern in the tunnels,’ Sally told him.

‘On the wrong side of the brass door.’ Spinorix shuddered.

Now the machine was off and Edgy wasn’t in immediate danger of being squashed flat, he took the time to look at his surroundings.

‘What is this place?’ Edgy asked, staring around him and slowly beating the rock dust from his clothes.

They stood in a large cavern. The massive stone-crushing machine filled one half and the other, apart from the space they stood in, was crammed with ossified demons. Hundreds of them. Tall, short, incredibly thin and hugely fat; every shape met Edgy’s eye as they stretched off into the gloom. Some had horns and tails, others cloven hoofs; yet more had all three. But what united them all, what made Edgy’s blood run cold, were their pained and horrified expressions.

They were pleading, begging, down on their knees.

Henry gave a whine and shuffled close to Edgy. There wasn’t one defiant gesture in the whole room. These creatures hadn’t been ossified as an act of self-defence. They’d been grovelling for their very existence just before someone turned them to stone.

‘The not so attractive side of the Royal Society,’ Sally muttered, not looking at the statues.

‘It’s horrible. What happened?’

Sally gave a sigh. ‘There was a time when the Royal Society of Daemonologie was nothing more than a hunting club. Retired generals, frustrated clergymen with no interest in gathering knowledge or understanding at all. It was just a competition to them – who could kill the greatest number of demons.’

‘It was terrible,’ Spinorix said breathlessly, gathering up his tail and holding it in front of his face as if to ward off the awful vision. ‘Demons were ossified by them like rich folks shoot grouse . . .’

‘Then Lord Mauldeth and Mr Janus joined,’ Sally continued. ‘They were taught by the best demon hunters in the Society. They’d always been competitive but their rivalry got worse as the years rolled on. Lord Mauldeth would “bag” a demon, then Mr Janus would have to ossify two the next day.’

‘The Stonemason,’ Edgy whispered. ‘That’s what Belphagor called Mr Janus. And Talon did too. This is what they meant – Mr Janus has killed so many demons, turned them to stone.’

‘Lord Mauldeth knew he could never beat his younger brother,’ Sally said, looking darkly at Edgy. ‘So, like a spoilt kid, he changed the game. He started searching for the scattered bones of Aldorath. Left Mr Janus high and dry. By the time Mr Janus realised what he was up to, Lord Mauldeth had found the skull.’

‘How d’you know all this?’ Edgy asked.

‘I’ve been around for a bit, y’know. I was there.’ Sally’s pale face seemed to go greyer when she said this. Edgy remembered the journal. She added, ‘They were keen to get rid of these statues and set up this room to dispose of the embarrassing reminder. I thought it’d been sealed off years ago, though.’

‘Anyway, even if it is true, it wasn’t just Mr Janus.’ Edgy frowned. ‘And he’s not like that now.’

‘No?’ Sally said, raising her eyebrows. ‘A leopard don’t change ’is spots, I reckon. Besides, he’s always lookin’ for a new way to outdo his big brother.’

‘Well, Lord Mauldeth always puts ’im down, doesn’t he?’ Edgy said, looking at his boots. He picked Henry up.

‘I don’t see much difference in ’im.’ Sally put her hands on her hips and glared at Edgy.

‘His mind’s on bigger things,’ Edgy muttered. It sounded stupid.

‘Like what?’ Sally asked, her head raised in a challenge.

Edgy’s temper flared. She had a nerve. Who was she to question him all the time? ‘The body of Moloch, that’s what,’ Edgy snapped. His voice echoed through the chamber. Spinorix gave a yelp and dived behind the leg of the nearest statue. ‘I reckon Mr Janus is tryin’ to find it before Salomé does. She’s got Moloch’s heart and if she finds him first, then Moloch will come back and that’ll be an end of everything, including you, missy! So if I wanna do my bit and help him save the world then I will. So there.’ Henry gave a sharp yap and bared his teeth at Sally, punctuating Edgy’s outburst.

Sally stood dumbfounded. Her hands fell from her hips and hung limply by her sides. Spinorix peered from behind the statue. Edgy had never seen his eyes so huge. He exhaled slowly. There. That had told them. They wouldn’t go questioning him so quickly next time.

But their gaze extended beyond Edgy. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned slowly to stare himself.

‘Blimey!’ Edgy croaked, stifling a scream.

Two eyes stared back, swivelling in the sockets of a mildewed demon skull. A skull with a triangular hole cut in its top. The skull sat on the smashed remains of an ossified demon torso. Two demon arms, rather desiccated and decomposed, had been lashed to the sides of the body with string. The whole hideous effigy sat on a flat trolley that was piled with jewellery, bones, watches, old candlesticks, cups and saucers. All manner of objects cluttered the base of the trolley.

‘It’s horrible,’ Sally whispered, putting a hand to her mouth.

But Spinorix jumped up and down on the spot, his head wobbling with joy. ‘The eyes of Argus!’ he cried and ran forward. Henry wriggled out of Edgy’s grasp and scurried over to the trolley, jumping up at the effigy and licking his lips at the eyes so tantalisingly close.

‘In the skull of Aldorath, if I’m not mistaken,’ Edgy murmured, looking at the intricate lines and blotches that scored the bone between the curved horns on the skull.

‘It’s all stolen from the collection.’ Spinorix frowned. ‘Thrown together to look like a demon.’

‘Or placed around it,’ Sally said. ‘Like some kind of offering.’

‘It does look ’orrid,’ Edgy grimaced, watching the eyes of Argus swivel around in the dead sockets of Aldorath.

‘It’s not all here,’ Spinorix said, scampering around the frightful pile, picking up pieces and dropping them again.

‘How d’you know?’ Edgy asked.

‘I just know,’ Spinorix snapped, holding up a milk jug shaped like a dragon. ‘There’s something missing . . . I just can’t quite remember . . .’

‘But we’ve got the most important piece, Spinorix,’ Edgy said, allowing himself a grin. Janus would be so pleased to see the skull and the map. ‘We just don’t know who swiped it all.’