'Get back!' squeaked Murmur, prodding a young demon with his pitchfork.
The prodded demon shuffled sideways, then let out a sudden squeak as his little cloven hooves lost traction in the muddy street. He quickly snatched hold of Murmur's pitchfork to prevent himself falling.
Unfortunately, our little demon's hooves gripped the wet, mud-slicked cobbles no better than his companion's. With a shriek he fell forwards onto the other demon, whose name was Gribon.
Both demons hit the ground hard, and the dark, narrow, empty street echoed with shrieks, squeaks and hisses as they attempted to disentangle themselves and get back up.
'Don't you go near me again, freak!' gibbered Murmur, jerking his pitchfork at Gribon, who still floundered in the muck.
'Don't you call me that, rabbit-tail!' Gribon hissed back, finally dragging himself upright by seizing a post. 'I'm not the one with a face so round and a nose so short that it could belong to a human!'
Murmur opened his mouth to toss back a retort, but then silently closed it again. He simply could not think of anything clever to say. Eyeing Gribon with beady little eyes, Murmur instead settled for sulking in a dark corner against the tall old houses lining the narrow alley.
But all the while, his tail whipped and twitched. Why did that monstrous Belphegor have to go and partner him with Gribon? Gribon the fair. Gribon the pale. Gribon the odd. Gribon the painful-to-look-at. Little Murmur had never wanted to go home more. Even older demons crossed the street to avoid Gribon. He was a freak, an abomination. A demon with flaxen hair and pale grey eyes was just not right.
The little demon's eyes watered with the sting of looking at his partner in crime. To give them a rest, he glanced down at his fingers, which fiddled with the end of his tail.
Now leaning against a pillar in what he clearly intended to be a callous, swaggering fashion, Gribon drummed his taloned fingers on his pitchfork. 'I say, Murmur, do you still remember what we are supposed to be doing?'
The little demon stopped his fiddling abruptly. 'I thought you knew what we are meant to do?'
'No, you were meant to know!'
'But you are two years older; you should be the one to remember!'
Gribon raised his respectably-clawed hand. 'Alright! Let's stop squabbling like a pair of gutter-rats and think.'
'You started it!'
'You'll have to face Belphegor too if we fail, Murmur!' screeched Gribon, jabbing the little demon in the chest with a sharp finger.
'I want to go home!'
'Don't be a baby. Now think, Murmur, think.'
'Alright,' Murmur muttered reluctantly, 'think.'
As he casually twirled the end of his tail around, the pale-haired demon stared thoughtfully ahead. 'So, we were supposed to wait around?'
'Yes, we wait around,' Murmur echoed, nodding vigorously.
'There was more than that, fool.'
'If you think I am the fool and you are not, then don't talk to me!'
Keeping with his callous leaning, Gribon sniffed contemptuously. 'But you were the one Belphegor ordered to write this sunlight down so as not to forget, not me.'
Murmur shrunk further into his corner. 'Well I forgot to write it down so I wouldn't forget, didn't I.'
Gribon cast a withering look at Murmur. 'I'm not bothering trying to remember what we're supposed to do. Not when you are the one at fault here.'
The little demon let out a sulky huff. 'Alright! So?in order to be conjured we?we?'
The drumming of Gribon's talons grew louder with impatience. This did not help Murmur remember. 'We?we-I know, we draw a circle in the soil and stand in it!'
The drumming paused. 'And?'
'And we?just stand in it.'
Frowning, Gribon pushed his cap back and scratched his head. 'I'm sure there was more to do?'
'Let's just try it. If nothing happens, we can tell Belphegor that nothing happened.'
'We? You.'
Arguing was only likely to prolong the time spent in this horrible alley, so the little demon just picked up a stick lying nearby (reluctantly, for it was muddy), and drew a circle around himself and Gribon. Then he crossed his arms and waited. After five minutes, nothing had happened.
'I said this wasn't going to work!' squeaked Murmur, with a relief unbecoming to a demon.
'Think harder about what Belphegor said to do!' screeched the fair-haired demon, stomping his hoof.
Murmur screwed up his beady little eyes and did as Gribon suggested. 'Eh?there was something about?about the-the Cross of Darkness?'
'See, you do know! You're just too lazy to think.' Gribon pointed to the ground. 'Scratch the sign.'
'But I'll get my finger all dirty if I touch the street. And besides, I can't properly remember what the Cross of Darkness is?'
'Get out the way then!' hissed Gribon, shoving little Murmur aside. 'I'll do it.'
The little demon was almost flung to the muddy cobbles a second time, only saving himself by thrusting his pitchfork out. But while his tail did whip and flick, he kept quiet.
When Gribon had done the deed, both demons stood expectantly and waited. At first, nothing happened. Then, just as Murmur was about to suggest giving up again, a noise reached through the foggy darkness.
'Come to me?' said a faint, faraway voice. 'Come to me, your master!' The invisible voice was growing louder now. 'Come to me, spirits of the darkness! Come and do my bidding!'
As little Murmur quaked in terror and clutched his pitchfork tightly, a roaring wind suddenly descended. It whirled and howled through the dark street, then suddenly formed into a whirlwind around the two young demons.
The voice seemed to live within the wind. Its extorting whispers wrapped themselves about Murmur, who found himself being lifted into the air. If the little demon had not been so surprised at the success of his dabbling in the dark arts, he would have thought to be more afraid. In no time at all he and Gribon were flying high above the town, whose faint lights twinkled far down in the darkness below.
Then he was lifted higher still. Mist engulfed him, but almost as suddenly, it was gone. Now Murmur and Gribon were alone with the glowing silver moon and the wistful-faced stars shining down on the night. The fog blanket below was snow-like and pure, and the air whistling all around cold.
For a moment the little demon almost forgot he was a conjurable demon as the moon's beauteous, serene face loomed close and large. The wonder of this celestial disc, which glowed like silver lit from within as it floated through the cosmos, transfixed him.
But as Murmur's round, red little eyes stared in awe, a black shape moved across the face of the moon. Then a flash of shimmering white light haloed by gold and purple moved towards the black. The two collided, then locked together in struggle.
Murmur flew towards it, and the voices within the wind grew a little fainter. Now the black shape showed itself as a bat-winged black demon who fought with an angel. Their struggle was desperate. The black great demon writhed and twisted as he grappled with the angel, trying to avoid the angel's blows and deliver his own. Every time the terrible black demon's long-taloned, sinewy hand found its target, a flash of red fire and sparks burst forth. When it was the angel that delivered a strike, a blinding golden light flashed into the darkness, causing little Murmur's beady red eyes to water and sting.
As the two spirits wheeled and grappled in combat, their wings tangled together. The angel's great white-feathered wings became intertwined by the black demon's powerful leathery, sinewy wings, and he seemed unable to free them. Seeing that victory was within his reach, the black demon shrieked in fiendish glee and struck the angel a fierce blow on the side of the head. The noble-faced angel reeled. Uttering more cackling shrieks, the black demon smote the angel about the head several more times and kicked him with a long, clawed foot.
The angel cried out in pain and clutched his hands to his head. The black demon saw his chance to smite his enemy down. He struck a terrible blow upon the angel's wing.
The angel's cry of agony rung out through the cosmic night. Then he reeled back and began to plummet downwards. As he fell, his long, shimmering robe of white silk billowed about him, and his feathered white wings streamed uselessly behind him. Down, down he plunged, falling headlong towards Earth.
As he watched, the little demon felt awe and a touch of fear. But less becomingly, he also felt a little pity. The tall, noble angel with his shimmering glow and beautiful swan-like wings was a magnificent thing. It was sad to see him fall. Murmur's little red eyes followed the angel's fall until he had disappeared into the white blanket of mist far down below.
Then Murmur looked once more at the great black demon. The terrible fiend had his bony, hook-nosed head thrown back, and from his open mouth shrieks and howls of demonic laughter erupted.
'Murmur, come on!'
The little demon turned his eyes to find Gribon tugging urgently at his coat.
'Stop gawping like a new-born!' shrieked he of the unnatural hair.
The little demon allowed his companion to draw him along, but still his eyes lingered upon the spot where the angel had vanished down into the fog.
Through the night flew the two demons. Then, with a thud and a clatter, little Murmur suddenly found himself sprawled on a floor.
'What!' screamed a loud voice. 'I conjure a demon and this is what I get-and late too!'
The dazed demon blinked his beady little eyes uncertainly up at the man standing furiously over him. He had jet-black hair, a long, proud face and a hawk-like hooked nose. When Murmur also noticed that the man was dressed in Arabian garb, he blinked some more.
But before the little demon could inform the conjurer that he was ungrateful, and remind him that demons were evil spirits who ruled the darkness, Gribon thudded down beside him.
The conjurer's eyes bulged even wider. 'What is this-this thing?' he screamed, pointing a long and furiously shaking finger at Gribon.
The fair-haired demon had hastily scrambled up the instant he arrived, and now he removed his cap and bowed low. 'Gribon at your service. You called, master; what is your command?'
The conjurer stared at Gribon for a moment, and then turned his horrified, disbelieving eyes to a dusty, musty tome lying open on the table beside him.
'Turn your coat inside out, tap the skull twice?' he muttered to himself, stroking his goatee beard with a shaking hand. 'Then chalk the sign of the Great Behemoth upon the floor?and a dark demon evil and ready to do your bidding shall appear?' He shook his head and blinked as though doubting his own eyes, then ran his eyes over the passage once more. 'Chalk sign of Great Behemoth?a dark demon evil and ready to do your bidding?'
He looked again at Gribon and Murmur, who still sat on the floor where he had thudded down. The conjurer's wide eyes were those of a man who doubted both the soundness of his eyes and sanity of his mind.
Gribon seemed oblivious to the conjurer's unflattering reaction. He bowed a second time. 'Master, what is your bidding?'
'What is the matter down in Hell these days, eh?' shouted the conjurer, getting back to his earlier indignant rage. 'Are they so short-staffed that they now send a freak and a runt when the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai calls?'
The little demon clattered and jittered before the fierce finger the conjurer pointed at him. But his partner in conjuring was not so cowed. Gribon swept his cloak about himself with haughty disdain and strutted over to where the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai stood.
'Look here, do you want us or not?' he demanded carelessly. 'We demons haven't got all night to waste hanging about chit-chatting. There are plenty of worse things we two could be getting up to right now.'
'What, like poking a chicken off its perch or causing a bucket of milk to go sour?' scoffed the conjurer.
'That's it!' screeched Gribon. 'Murmur, we are leaving!'
The little demon stood up carefully, keeping a wary eye on the conjurer as he did so. 'Good idea, Gribon. Let's get out of here.'
He of the disturbing hair nodded. 'Come on then.'
'I'm ready,' said Murmur. 'Recite the spell.'
Gribon's beady grey eyes were fixed ahead, but his lip betrayed him with a slight tremor. 'What spell? Belphegor didn't tell us about a spell!'
A clatter and a screech rang out as Murmur's little cloven hooves scrabbled for grip. 'W-what? You mean you don't know how to get b-back?' His mouth fell open in horror.
Gribon nudged little Murmur in the ribs. 'What do we do now?' he hissed, keeping his stare fixed on the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai.
'Don't know, don't know!' gibbered the little demon, fidgeting desperately with the end of his tail.
'Not so smart and fine now, are we?' cried the conjurer, his eyes shining with glee.
Gribon tried to keep his stare callous, but defeat shone through it. When the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai walked right up to him and stood over him with his hands on his hips, the pale demon blinked, and his stare wavered.
'Your honour, you wouldn't happen to?know the spell, would you?' he faltered, fiddling with the end of his tail.
'I do indeed know it!' Looking mighty pleased with himself, the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai turned away and strutted over to the window. 'I, the great conjurer, know everything! There is no man alive who knows more than I do-' He suddenly spun around to face the demon pair. 'And do you know why?'
They shook their heads uncertainly.
'Because I do not let any foolish scruples get in my way! You see, unlike Saint Kriztofer, that fool down in the murky, cold swamp of a town in the west you call home, I am not afraid to converse with the Devil! Fools who wish only to be good will not talk with him, and therefore do they remain fools, because the Devil, the Great Satan, knows all that there is to know about the things that are on the earth and beneath it.'
'Just tell us the spell!' screeched Gribon. 'If you don't, I'll tell my father about you!'
The great Hernando threw back his head and laughed a terrible, mocking laugh. 'Your father and I have had many good conversations in this very room. He always is telling me how ashamed he is to have sired a freak like you!' snarled the great one.
Gribon caught Murmur's eye. In it, the little demon read defeat and a total absence of plans.
'Your honour, just let us go!' he squeaked.
Rubbing his hands together, the great Hernando of Isiz A'bai grinned maniacally down at the young demons. 'Not until you two have moved that pile in the courtyard from the east side to the west side.'
Sniffling nervously, the little demon clip-clopped over to the window and looked out. Far down below the ivory tower he stood in was a courtyard. And in the courtyard sat a huge pile of rocks.
'Come on, Gribon,' muttered Murmur. 'We'd better get started or we'll not get home until the horrid yellow disc is high in the sky.'
* * * *