He held his breath, not altogether sure Chalkhill would go for it. The man might look like a beached whale with the IQ of a lettuce, but he had a certain animal cunning when it came to his pleasures.
Chalkhill was frowning. 'Pratellus can stay with him?' he asked suspiciously.
'Of course!' Brimstone exclaimed.
Chalkhill's teeth flared and dazzled. 'Capital!' he said. 'Capital! A rest, a drink. And you will send Pratellus to fetch me the minute it's all ready?'
'Of course,' said Brimstone kindly.
'Then I shall leave my little man in your capable hands!' Chalkhill exclaimed grandly and swept off down the stairs.
Brimstone dismissed Pratellus and both guards the minute they had the boy tied up securely and deposited inside the circle. None of the three made the slightest protest and Brimstone knew exactly why. Pratellus in particular realised which side his bread was buttered. He might suck up to Chalkhill for the little favours of his job, but Brimstone was the one with power, even if Chalkhill was the one with money. Brimstone was the one you kept sweet at all costs. He was the one who could fire you, throw you on the rubbish heap. He was the one who could send a demon hunting through your dreams if you irritated him too much.
He was the one with a sacrifice to make.
Brimstone stared at the boy, wondering why Beleth wanted him so much. He was certain in his own mind now that Beleth had somehow engineered this situation. It was all too neat and tidy for any other explanation. The boy's arrival the minute he stepped out of the circle – even before he stepped out of the circle, now he came to think of it. His position behind Chalkhill so he had to be the second person Brimstone would see. Even the way Chalkhill offered him and the ease with which he'd agreed to let Brimstone take him away. That wasn't like Jasper, not like him at all. It had to have something to do with Beleth. Once you called a demon, you gave it an opportunity to interfere with the world. Small demons just made mischief, but princes could be more subtle. And far reaching.
Yet why had Beleth chosen this child for the sacrifice and no other? Why had Beleth chosen a child at all? Why not someone of importance, someone rich and powerful? Chalkhill's boy seemed fearfully ordinary. Even his clothes weren't up to much. The breeches looked as if he'd mended them himself – and none too expertly.
Brimstone tore his mind away from the puzzle. It was really no business of his why Beleth wanted the boy. Just so long as the demon kept his end of the contract. Oh yes, that was all that mattered. He scuttled across the room for The Book of Beleth and turned to the chapter that described the sacrifice. It all looked simple enough. You called up Beleth in the usual way, then cut the victim's throat. Beleth absorbed the life essence, sealed the contract and took the boy's soul with him back to Hell. Easy-peasy. Once Beleth was gone, the only thing Brimstone had to do was dispose of the body, which would be simple with the glue vats in full production. He wouldn't even have to worry about Chalkhill any more. With Belem's contract in Brimstone's pocket, Chalkhill was yesterday's news.
He went to the cupboard and found a sharp-edged knife. Then he came back and started to re-fortify the circle in preparation for the calling-up of Beleth. Two evocations in one day! That must be something of a record.
Pyrgus watched the old man skeetering about the attic room like a sun-dried cockroach and tried to figure out how much time he had left. He couldn't believe no one had searched him. The guards had been too busy beating him up. Captain Pratellus had been too busy playing Good Cop. Chalkhill had been too busy organising fun for himself. And this old boy -Brimstone – seemed to have other things on his mind as well. As a result, Pyrgus was now quietly sawing at his bonds with the little blade he'd fished from the button-down pocket on the leg of his breeches. It wasn't very sharp, but it would do the job. Providing he had time.
He wished he knew what Brimstone was really up to. Chalkhill wanted him to call up a few demons to torment Pyrgus and this place certainly looked as if it was ready for a conjuration – and Pyrgus himself was right inside the magic circle. But Pyrgus had never seen a triangle of trapped lightning before and he didn't like the look of that knife Brimstone had brought into the circle. The old man was about his own business, something even Chalkhill didn't know about. Pyrgus also guessed this was not good news. There were worse things than being tormented by a few minor demons and that knife looked like one of them.
If he could just cut through the ropes in time, he was certain he could get away. Brimstone looked like he'd been dead for years. He was lively enough for an old boy, but he was frail. Pyrgus reckoned he could outrun him easily, probably even take the knife away from him without much trouble. But only if his hands and feet were free. Until that happened, he was helpless.
He redoubled his efforts with the little blade.
Brimstone redrew symbols and lit candles. He glanced at Pyrgus. 'Nearly done,' he said cheerfully.
'What are you going to do to me?' Pyrgus asked him. He wasn't expecting an honest answer but, if he could keep Brimstone talking, it might give him extra time.
'Nothing you need worry about,' Brimstone told him promptly.
'What do I need to worry about?' It was horribly difficult to tell how far he'd got with the ropes. They certainly hadn't parted yet. But at least Brimstone was talking.
'Nothing,' Brimstone said. 'Nothing at all. You won't feel a thing. Well, hardly anything.' He turned away from Pyrgus and picked up a large book. 'Now please be quiet – I have work to do.'
So much for keeping Brimstone talking. Pyrgus watched with trepidation as he began an evocation.
Pyrgus couldn't believe what was materialising in the triangle. Like most boys, he'd seen pictures of demons and read about them in his schoolbooks. But they'd all been small creatures, just a few feet high. Bad tempered, admittedly; and dangerous. Put enough of them together and they could strip the flesh from your bones with those sharp little teeth. Some breeds even had magical powers – they could wither plants and cause all sorts of illnesses. And all of them could get into your mind if you were silly enough to look them in the eye. Even though you wouldn't want one as a pet, they weren't really all that scary.
But the thing in the triangle was something else.
It was huge. It was ugly. It was loud. It was smelly. It oozed malevolence and naked power. Worst of all, it was smiling.
'Aha,' it said. 'You found the boy.'
'You knew it would be him,' Brimstone said. 'You knew, didn't you? All that business about the second person I saw – you knew who it would be.'
'Of course I knew who it would be,' Beleth growled. 'You don't think I'd leave that sort of thing to chance?'
'Why him?' Brimstone asked. The creature seemed to make him nervous. He was dancing from foot to foot.
'Show me the clause in our contract that says I have to explain myself to you,' Beleth hissed.
Brimstone backed off at once. 'Just curious, just curious. None of my business, none at all. The deal's still on, isn't it?'
'Signed in blood,' said Beleth. 'And sealed once you complete your part of the bargain. Speaking of which…'
Brimstone took the hint. 'Yes, yes, I'll do it now. No sense in dragging these things out.' He raised the knife and bent down over Pyrgus. 'Hold still, boy,' he said.