"Keep back!" said Abacarus. "If you step on a line, you will break the pentacle' and release the demon ere he have accepted my commands. That might be the end of all of us."
They crowded back against the wall while the diagram was completed. The sorcerers inscribed a pentagram, or five-pointed star in the pentacle, a small circle inside the pentagram, and many symbols in the angles of these figures.
Octamon lit five thick black candles and placed them at the points of the star, where they burned with a weird green flame. Then he extinguished the suspended lamp that had illuminated the chamber. He lit a thuribulum and stood against the wall swinging the vessel on its chain. Pungent odors arose, which called to Jorian's mind, simultaneously, a flowery spring meadow, the fish market at Vindium, and the tannery at Xylar. Glancing furtively at his companions' faces, Jorian saw that all were tinged green from the candle flames.
Abacarus began moving his hands while intoning, in a deep voice unlike his normal high, thin tenor, words unknown to Jorian: "Thomatos benesser ftianter, litan izer osnas nanther, soutram i ubarsinens rabiam! Siras etar besanar, nodes suradis a…" He went on and on until Jorian uneasily shifted his weight.
The flames of the candles wavered, shrank to points, and changed to an angry red. "… maniner o sader prostas. …" droned Abacarus.
In the near-darkness, Jorian felt movement of the air. Something was flickering into view in the center of the pentacle; something anthropomorphic but bulkier than a human being. A heavy, musky odor pervaded the room. Abacarus finished his conjuration: "… mammes i enaim perantes ra sonastosl What is your name?"
The answer came in a voice like bubbling swamp gas: "If it be any of your business, I am called Ruakh. What is this outrage—"
"Hold your tongue!" said Abacarus. "I have called you from the Fifth Plane to perform a service. Until you swear by the oath that binds you to perform this task featly, and to harm no inhabitant of this plane whilst sojourning therein, and then to return forthwith to your own plane, you shall remain prisoner in this pentacle."
The dim form moved as if it were trying to break through an invisible barrier surrounding it. The barrier seemed to be elastic, so that when the being threw itself against the invisible wall, it rebounded. At last it ceased its struggles, saying:
"This is most unjust of you! On my plane we have long abolished slavery, yet you savages still keep up this barbarous custom. Some day we demons shall find a way—"
"Never mind all that," growled Abacarus. "Will you do as you are told, or must I leave you here to await the coming of day?"
"You beast!" said the demon. "You know we Fifth Planers be allergic to the sun of your plane. If ever I get you on my plane—"
"Vaisus damn it, will you stop arguing! I have never faced so contentious a demon! It will avail you nought, so you might as well get down to business."
"I have a right to remind you of what is right and wrong, since you seem to have no conscience—"
"Shut up!" screamed Abacarus.
"—and no manners, either," continued Ruakh. "Ah, well, as you Prime Planers would say, you have me by the balls, or would, if I had those repulsive organs of reproduction you creatures hide beneath your clothing. What is this service?"
"First you must swear the oath!"
"I will swear nought until I know what service you have in mind, lest you send me to find frog feathers or dry water."
Abacarus said: "The large young man with the black beard has a wife imprisoned in the dungeon of the royal palace of Xylar. He wishes you to fetch her out of her cell and bring her here."
"How far is Xylar?"
"Eighty leagues, more or less, east of here."
"How shall I accomplish this task? I can materialize in the lady's cell, but I cannot dematerialize her to carry her through stone walls or an iron-barred door."
"If the door be locked, you must get the key from the head jailer, or whoever has it. If you can find who has it, you can easily frighten him into giving it up. Then you can fly back hither with the lady. The time is not yet midnight, so you should arrive here well before dawn. You must not fly at such a height that lack of air will suffocate her; and you should wrap her warmly, for the winter air aloft will be far below the freezing point."
Ruakh grunted. "I like not the prospect; but as we say on the Fifth Plane, mendicants cannot be optants. Can the young man draw me a plan of the dungeon, lest I go astray in the bowels of this building?"
"Nay, oath first! You hope he will break the circle and loose you to wreak your vengeance upon us."
"I had no such thought in mind!" cried the demon in its bubbly, thickly accented voice. "You Prime Planers are the most suspicious lot in the multiple worlds. You assume all others to be as evil and treacherous as you."
"Forget the rhetoric, my good Ruakh, and let us get to the oath."
"Oh, very well," grumbled the demon.
There followed a long dialogue between the two, in a language unknown to Jorian. At last Abacarus said: "That is done, then. Octamon, you may light the lamp and break the circle. You realize, Ruakh, what will befall you if you violate the terms of our compact, do you not?"
"Aye, I realize; albeit it is a monstrous injustice. Forcing me to do risky, unpaid labor, forsooth! When I get home, I shall have somewhat to say to my fellow demons."
As the lamp flared up, Jorian had his first clear view of Ruakh. The demon was a being of human size and shape, but from its back grew a huge pair of batlike wings, now folded. Its clawed feet resembled those of a huge bird of prey. The whole creature was covered with what at first Jorian took to be a skintight suit of scarlet silk. As the demon moved, he saw that this was Ruakh's own skin. As the being had said, it was innocent of visible sexual organs; the skin of its crotch was smooth.
"Pardon me, Master Ruakh," said Jorian, "but how do your kind reproduce themselves?"
"It is a long story," began the demon. "At the proper season, we grow—"
Abacarus interrupted. "Do not take time for such discussion, Master Jorian. Ruakh must get to Xylar and back ere dawn. So here is a piece of chalk; pray indicate where he shall find your lady."
Jorian squatted and drew a diagram of the dungeon of Xylar. He was a little startled when Ruakh, leaning over his shoulder to look at the drawing, placed a clawed hand on Jorian's back to steady itself. Jorian pointed to the largest rectangle in the diagram.
"I think she's in there," he said. "They seem to have fixed the place up for her comfort, not like an ordinary prison cell. She is small and light-haired."
The demon, peering, said: "Methinks I grasp the nub. Stand back, all, so that I can dematerialize."
When the men had crowded back to the wall, the demon began to spin round and round. Faster and faster it went, until it became a blur. The blur became translucent, then transparent, and then vanished with a whoosh of air.
"Open the doors, Octamon," said Abacarus, "to rid us of this stench."
Cold winter air spilled into the oratory. "Now what?" asked Jorian.
"It will be hours ere Ruakh can return," said Abacarus. "It can hie to Xylar in its immaterial form in the blink of an eye; it should arrive there any minute. But to return, it must remain material. So its flight will consume hours, swift of wing though it be. If you people wish to await its return here, there are couches below."