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coagulated into a blob that pulsed and oozed. It expanded, got taller, grew limbs and took a bipedal shape. It solidified, the features clarified, and a humanoid creature, about five feet tall, stood in the coffin. Its scales caught the light and shimmered every shade of green. Saliva dripped and hung in strands from a wide row of pointed teeth. A long, thick, black tongue poked out, licked the fat, green lips while the two greenish-yellow eyes blazed with a fiendish intelligence as they looked us over.

  My knees were ice, I could feel them melting.

  The green being gave us a lopsided grin and said, "You were expecting, perhaps, someone else?" Except for an unnatural stress on the s's, the voice was almost normal.

  I was too stunned to talk. After half a dozen seconds Ward recovered enough composure to speak. "You know we were. What have you done with Phillip Howard's body?" That was not the tone I would have chosen when addressing a being as ugly as this one.

  But the thing took no offense. It said, with a trace of a hiss, "If you look down you will see that before I was interrupted, I was eating him. Very tasty was old Phil, but much too smart to let anything happen to his body." Claws rasped on scales as the thing scratched its belly. Shades of green chased each other across its skin.

  "What do you mean?" Ward prompted.

  The thing withdrew the tip of its tongue from a nostril before answering. "Phil always counted on somebody finding the spells he left to be found, then coming here to use them on him. He planted evidence that he was well-versed in life extension and reanimation to draw suckers like you to him. You would raise him but he would be in control."

  "If he was so good, why did he die?"

  "He lived on the edge. He dealt with demons and he made one little slip. I was waiting, ready to take advantage."

  "I guess you made a little slip too," Ward said.

  An arm four feet long flashed out and grabbed Ward by the throat with a handful of claws, pulled him close. "So I did," the demon hissed in his face. "And you better hope my fingers don't make another little slip right now." The claws tightened a bit for just an instant before the arm withdrew. Beads of blood formed on Ward's neck. The demon said, "You're lucky I like to talk, and it's been a long time since I got to say anything."

  "What happened?" I asked. The demon turned its attention to me and I tried to maintain an expression of polite interest despite the terror I felt. Ward backed up a couple of steps.

  "Phil booby-trapped his body. I defused three spells but Phil got me with a delayed-reaction dissolution spell. It wasn't strong enough or soon enough to save his body but it caught me. I was so busy eating and gloating that I'd got one up on Phil that I didn't notice what was happening until too late. Stalemate. I barely had time to vow revenge, which brings us to you two, and the question of what I should do with you." It coughed and spit a glob of green something onto the floor.

  My knees melted some more but I was too petrified to fall.

  The demon looked from Ward to me, back and forth. "Who did the raising spell?"

  "I did," Ward said before I had a chance to move or speak.

  The long arm extended, a finger flicked out and a sharp claw hooked Ward's left nostril. "I'm not as easy to fool as a human, so try again and get it right."

  Balancing on his tiptoes Ward said, "Okay, okay, it was Joe."

  "Uh huh. That's what I thought. Do you know what that means?"

  "No."

  "It means good-bye to you." Before Ward could say another word it ripped his head right off.

  I came as close to fainting as I ever have in my forty-eight years of life. I'm not sure why I didn't. A passage from the old book I'd found the spells in flashed in my memory. "That which is put down can be raised up again. And vice versa." I started the descending invocation but the demon whipped around and grabbed me by the throat. I could feel its claws ready to pierce.

  "I wouldn't utter another syllable if I were you."

  My heart was the only muscle that moved.

  After a few seconds the claws eased off a bit and it said, "You rescued me, so I'm going to give you a chance to live, as long as you don't try anything stupid. Agreed?"

  I gave a tiny nod and it released me. I started to breathe again.

  "You don't seem the greedy, ambitious type like your friend."

  "He wasn't my friend, he was my cousin. Or so he claimed."

  "Ah. And I'll bet it was his idea to come here for Phillip Howard's body."

  "That's right. I'd have been happy talking to Jedediah."

  "So why did he bring you along?"

  "I found the spell and I wouldn't let him use it unless I was with him. I came because I'm a historian. I wanted to hear history first hand from the people who lived it."

  It made a sound like a sink gurgling, which scared me until I realized it was laughing. "A brave scholar, willing to take risks for knowledge." It laughed some more. "Did I mention that I like to talk? I'll make you a deal. You fill me in on what's happened in the world since I was put down and I'll tell you about the past."

  "You've got a deal." I extended my hand and shook its very warm, scaly green one, being careful of the claws.

  I set up my tape recorder and we talked until dawn. It was surprised at the extent of the changes and grateful for the information I gave it. While we talked the rain slowed to a gentle drizzle and light began to filter into the tomb.

  The demon stopped in the middle of a sentence in a story about Jedediah Willett. "It's time for me to go. Thanks for the chat." Its features softened, its outline wavered and it started to fade. "Enjoy the rest of your mortality, pal." Then it drifted like smoke and was gone.

  I left before the rain quit and got away as fast as I could. To this date there has been nothing to implicate me in the killing spree that night and the police believed me when I said that Ward had gone somewhere without me three days before.

  From the stories the demon told me I was able to publish a book on the history of my family and the area. Critics praised it for its accuracy, completeness and immediacy. They wondered if there would be more books like it from this brilliant author.

  It isn't likely. When I got home after the incident in the tomb there was a gob of green goo on my floor and I couldn't find any record, or even a mention, of the raising and descending spells. There is no way I can remember all those syllables and gestures so I guess I'm stuck with the same research methods as all the other undistinguished scholars.

  END

  Other titles by Rik Hunik:

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  The Spirit Of The Game (horror story) Things go wrong when a game designer makes a special game for his widowed mother so she can play cards with her deceased husband.

  A Clone Of His Own (science fiction, fantasy)

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