The Demon Collector (4 page)

‘What is it then?’ Edgy asked, his heart thumping as he glanced back at Janus, who was still battering at the door, kicking and punching it.

‘Easy,’ said the first demon. ‘Everything . . . grows old all the time.’ Then it launched itself forward at Edgy.

‘Slouch, we need to come in. N
ow
!’

Janus’s yells were cut short as the double doors swung open and he and Edgy tumbled inside. The first thing that hit Edgy was the heat from indoors. The second was the cool marble floor as he fell flat on his back. He found himself looking up at a black ceiling decorated with stars. A clawed hand gripped the tail of Edgy’s coat but he yanked it back as the doors slammed shut. Edgy heard a cry of anger and a yelp of pain.

Janus was on his feet. ‘Blast your eyes, Slouch. We could’ve been killed out there. What do you think you’re playing at?’

Janus ranted on but Edgy only half heard him. He stared at the hall in which he lay. It had five sides and a door sat in the middle of each wall. Brilliantly coloured paintings twisted across the panels of the walls: demons fighting, feasting, laughing and weeping. Red skin and gold crowns blended with flame tongues and blue lightning bolts. Edgy didn’t know where to look next. Every wall seemed to move and shimmer. A golden pentagram glowed in the centre of the black marble floor. Henry gave a low growl, drawing Edgy’s attention to the object of Janus’s rage.

‘You’re all right now, aren’t yer?’ groaned a weary, wheezing voice. Edgy’s stomach lurched. An impossibly tall, thin demon loomed over Janus as he continued his tirade.

‘No thanks to you, you lazy ingrate. Words fail me, Slouch. I . . . I . . .’

‘Well, that’ll be a first,’ grumbled the demon, shoulders sagging with the effort of speaking.

Edgy relaxed a little. This one wasn’t like the demons outside. He wore a butler’s suit but it was a size too small; the cuffs ended well above the wrists and the jacket would never have buttoned up. A strip of lank, black hair lay plastered over his otherwise bald head. His long face, wide nostrils and large, downturned mouth gave him a look of resignation and sadness.

‘Don’t get clever with me! What on earth were you doing?’ Janus snapped.

‘Sittin’ down there,’ muttered Slouch, pointing at a rather worn-out sofa that had exploded at the seams.

Janus pulled his black coat off and removed his hat, tutting and shaking his head. He offered them to Slouch, who stared at them for a long time before extending a slow, lazy finger over in the general direction of the coat stand. Janus pursed his lips and stamped over to the stand, flinging his coat and hat at it.

Slouch turned his sad eyes on Edgy. Weariness suddenly pressed on Edgy’s shoulders. His eyelids felt heavy.

‘You’ll have to forgive Slouch, Edgy,’ Janus said, fixing the demon with a glare. ‘He’s a demon of sloth. Not given to any exertion, if he can help it. Why the governors appointed him Head Butler, I’ll never know.’

‘Why does he work for you?’ Edgy asked, shaking himself awake as Slouch began to snore. ‘An’ what’s a demon of sloth?’

‘
He
is.’ Janus grimaced at the slumbering demon. Then he frowned and drew Edgy close. ‘Some demons have joined the Royal Society of Daemonologie. Not all of them are out to get us.’

‘What’s wrong with him? Why’s he so lazy?’

‘Sloth,’ Janus spat. ‘Most demons are connected with a certain sin. You know what sins are?’

Edgy nodded. ‘They’re bad things to do . . . like stealin’ or murder.’

‘True, true,’ Janus agreed, ‘but they’re also ways of feeling – being envious or greedy. Sloth is laziness. Demons enjoy encouraging these sins in mankind but often they fall prey to the sins themselves before they get that far. Slouch is a prime example.’

‘If he’s that lazy, why does Slouch work for you?’

‘He hardly does any work for us.’ Janus cast a baleful eye on Slouch. ‘His own idleness keeps him here. We’d be glad to see the back of him.’ The old man raised his voice so that Slouch could hear. ‘He could walk out of the front door any time.’

‘Couldn’t be bothered,’ muttered Slouch from his sofa.

The mention of the door made Edgy twitch and glance at it. Janus followed his gaze and smiled gently.

‘Don’t worry, Edgy,’ he said. ‘The Royal Society is protected. The demons can’t come in. Nice work with the riddle back there, by the way. Quick thinking!’

‘It wasn’t that good. They got it. An’ now I can’t get out neither,’ Edgy scowled. ‘Not while they’re sittin’ on the doorstep.’

‘Then you may as well be our guest, Edgy Taylor,’ Janus laughed, gripping the lapels of his jacket and standing on tiptoe. ‘A good meal inside you, a bath and bed might make you a little better disposed towards us. Follow me.’

Janus charged out of the reception hall and through the nearest door. For a moment, Edgy stood in the hall, staring after him.
What’s his game then? Why all the interest in me, I wonder?

Henry gave a whine and looked up with anxious brown eyes.

‘Well, there’s not much else I can do,’ Edgy said to him, then scurried after Janus.

Henry barked and clattered after him across the marble floor, pausing only to cock his leg on Slouch’s sofa.

‘Keep up, young man,’ Janus said without glancing back, as he marched up a panelled corridor lined with portraits. Edgy looked at them, shivering. Sombre old men in black skullcaps stared down at him with disapproval. Small spheres hung from the ceiling, glowing warm and red, giving a twilight feel to the place.

‘Ah, you’ve noticed our lighting system.’ Janus beamed back at him. ‘Not gas, no, no. Hellfire, courtesy of the Illuminati Lighting Company. Burns for a thousand years. Can’t see why they haven’t caught on . . . might be the smell, of course.’

Edgy sniffed at the slightly eggy smell that hung about the corridor. Every now and then a door interrupted the dark oak panelling. Pipework coiled and swerved around the doorframes, the gentle hissing cutting through the silence. No one passed them or came out of the doors. Janus seemed unconcerned by it all and strode ahead with the same fixed smile.

‘Don’t like this place one bit, Henry,’ Edgy muttered as he hurried after Janus. ‘As soon as them demons have shifted, we’re off.’

Henry gave a low whine, his ears alert as he scanned the walls.

‘A bit safer than outside, eh?’ Janus said, throwing a smile over his shoulder at Edgy. ‘And warmer. We’ll swap those rags you’re standing in for something a bit more presentable.’

Edgy glanced down at his ragged torn trousers and coat, sniffing at the dog smell that emanated from them. His boot flapped where the sole had come off and holes gaped at his knees and elbows.

‘Here we are,’ Janus said and stopped, taking a sharp right into a small room lined with shelves. Clothes lay neatly folded in piles on each one. A little blue-skinned demon, half Edgy’s height, sat on a stool in the corner of the room darning a sock. He jumped up when Janus entered.

‘Ah, Professor Janus.’ The man bowed low, his long nose almost touching the floor. Pointed ears sprang out from the side of his large head. He wore striped trousers and a tailcoat that touched the ground at the back.

‘Evening, Trimdon. This is Edgy Taylor. He’s stopping for the night, maybe longer. I’d like to show him around.’ Janus beamed. ‘I want him scrubbed, fed and kitted out for me. Back in half an hour.’

Janus disappeared out into the corridor. Trimdon slicked back his hair with his fingers and beamed at Edgy.

‘Pleased to meet you, Master Taylor.’ Trimdon bowed low again.

‘Yeah, charmed,’ Edgy said, eyeing the little man.

‘And this is?’ he said, smiling down at Henry. To Edgy’s surprise, the dog wagged his tail and licked the back of Trimdon’s hand.

‘Erm, Henry,’ Edgy said. If Henry trusted this strange little demon, he thought that maybe he should too.

‘Pleased to meet you, Henry.’ Trimdon nodded and then bowed to Henry. ‘If you go through that door behind you, you’ll find a tub of warm soapy water awaits.’ Trimdon bowed again, then narrowed his eyes as he looked Edgy up and down. ‘You get a wash and I’ll pull out some suitable clothing for you.’

Edgy backed through the door and found himself in a tiny cupboard room. A tub of water filled the room and a three-legged stool stood beside it. He peered at the steaming tub and dipped a hand in the water, pulling it out quickly.

‘Blimey, Henry, ’ot water,’ he grinned. ‘I can’t remember the last time I ’ad a wash, let alone a full soak!’

Henry jumped up, forepaws on the side of the bath, dipping his nose in the foam. For a second, Edgy thought about the vats at the tannery – a knee’s depth of urine and excrement. He sniffed at the fragrant bubbles that swayed on the surface of the water.

A cough from behind startled him. Trimdon had his head round the door. ‘You get undressed and climb into the water. Use the soap and the scrubbing brush to get the dirt from your skin.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘Don’t worry, you aren’t the first young man to be frightened of a bath – and you won’t be the last, I’m sure!’

The door clicked shut and Edgy undressed, piling his crusty clothes on to the stool. He pulled out the sliver of bone and the bag of salt Janus had given him and put them behind the bath out of sight.

Henry watched with tilted head as Edgy lifted a cautious leg and dipped his toes into the water. Edgy’s skin prickled and tingled. He wasn’t sure if he liked it at first. He inched in, gasping at the warmth that engulfed him.

‘Lord above, I’ve never felt so hot in all my born days,’ he panted.

Gradually, his breathing returned to normal. Aching muscles stretched and relaxed in the heat. He blew a few bubbles at Henry, who jumped and snapped at them.

‘You’re as mucky as me,’ Edgy said with a laugh. He grabbed the little dog and dragged him in. Henry gave a yelp and sank under the water, only to bob up again, fur spiky, tail wagging, splattering suds and water everywhere.

Edgy slipped his whole head under, revelling in the feeling. When he came up for air, Trimdon must have been and gone as a suit of black wool hung on the back of the door, along with a shirt of thick cotton and a pair of boots that shone in the candlelight.

‘Maybe this ain’t such a bad place after all,’ he said to Henry, climbing out and rubbing at his tingling skin with a clean, dry towel.

The terrier gave a muted bark and sniffed the air, licking his lips. The smell of warm, meaty gravy drifted into the room. Edgy’s mouth watered.

‘A feast, Henry,’ he whispered, pulling on shirt and trousers, drawn by the aroma of food. He snatched up and pocketed the salt and bone fragment.

When Edgy emerged, Trimdon stood holding a plate of pork chops, mashed potato and gravy.

‘Tuck in, Master Taylor,’ Trimdon said, his pearly teeth gleaming even in the red glow of the hellfire lamps.

Edgy smacked his lips. He sat with the plate on his knee, devouring the feast, throwing Henry chunks of the chops whenever he pawed the air for more. Edgy had never tasted anything like it. Food at the tannery was stale crusts, cheese and gruel. Now and then, Talon would get a few bones and boil them up but Edgy had never had such succulent meat.

‘So, Mr Trimdon,’ Edgy said, his voice thick with gravy, ‘you been with this Royal Society long then?’

Trimdon smiled and inclined his head. ‘About a hundred years.’

Edgy’s eyes widened.

‘I know, I know,’ Trimdon smiled, patting his little beer belly, ‘I hardly look old enough. The Society has been like a family to me.’

‘What kind of demon are you, Mr Trimdon?’ Edgy asked. ‘If you’ll pardon the question.’

‘A domestic demon.’ Trimdon puffed out his chest. ‘I watch the hearth and keep a fire burning. We’re not all about pitchforks and hellfire. Why I –’

But Trimdon was cut short by Janus, who popped into the doorway and stood there beaming.

‘Perfect fit, Trimdon, another job well done,’ he smiled, testing the quality of Edgy’s suit material with his finger and thumb.

‘Thank you, sir.’ Trimdon seemed to grow another inch as he stood tall, hands behind his back. ‘Hand-stitched, finest quality.’

‘Right then, young man,’ Janus said, taking Edgy’s shoulder and leading him into the corridor. ‘Let’s show you to your room. You’ll soon feel at home.’

‘Now listen, Mr Janus –’ Edgy started to say.

A blur of red hurtled down the passage. It seemed to Edgy that the hellfire lights had detached themselves from the ceiling and were flying towards him.

‘Vandal! Thief!’ someone screeched.

Edgy felt a dull pain in his stomach and found himself rolling backwards across the floor as long red fingers closed around his throat.

There was an old farmer in Sussex did dwell,

There was an old farmer in Sussex did dwell,

And he had a bad wife, as many knew well .

Then Satan came to the old man at the plough :

‘One of your family I must have now.

It is not your eldest son that I crave,

But it is your old wife, and she I will have .’

‘The Farmer’s Curst Wife’, traditional folk ballad