Free Book 2 - Daemons Are Forever by Simon R. Green Page A

insisted the Sarjeant-at-Arms. “He’s moved back into his old room in the Hall, the one he used to live in back when he was alive. He frightened the proper occupant so much he ran out screaming, and has refused to go back.”
    “I know,” said the Armourer. “We’ve got the poor lad down in the infirmary. I don’t know what you did to him, Jacob, but he still hasn’t stopped twitching. And he can’t go to sleep unless someone holds his hand.”
    Jacob sniggered. “He shouldn’t have been playing with himself when I materialised. And I am here because I’m supposed to be here. I like being back in the Hall, if only because it annoys so many of the proper people. Been a lot of changes since I was last here … I can’t believe how crowded the Hall is these days. Family’s been breeding like rabbits…We need to get more of the youngsters out into the world. Kick them out of the nest! Fly, little birdies! Yes, I know, I’m rambling; you’re allowed to when you’ve been dead as long as I have.”
    “Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, “but why are you still here, Jacob? I thought you only hung around as a ghost so you’d be here to help me save the family from the Heart.”
    “That’s what I thought,” said Jacob, scowling. His eyes disappeared, leaving only deep, dark pits in his face. “But something is still holding me here. Some force…like an undischarged promise. My job here isn’t over yet, dammit. Something is coming, Eddie. Something good, something bad…something.”
    We all waited, but he had nothing else left to say. I decided it was very definitely time to change the subject, and since I wanted to remind everyone that I was in charge, I went with something that had been bugging me for some time. I stared sternly at the Sarjeant-at-Arms.
    “What is your name? I can’t keep calling you Sarjeant, and I’m damned if I’ll go back to calling you sir, like when I was a kid.”
    “Call me Sarjeant. It’s my title.”
    “I could have Molly rip it out of your living brain,” I said. I was bluffing, but he didn’t know that. If the Sarjeant was so determined not to tell me, I wanted to know even more. It had to be something good. The Sarjeant sighed, just a little.
    “My name is Cyril.”
    Sometimes things are just too good to be true. I think the only thing that kept the whole Circle from collapsing into gales of hysterical laughter was our extensive knowledge of the Sarjeant’s brutality, and that he could summon weapons out of thin air when he felt like it.
    “Cyril?” I said happily. “Bloody Cyril? No wonder you grew up to be a thug and a bully, with a name like that. You must have loved your parents.”
    “They were fine, upstanding people,” the Sarjeant said firmly. “Now, if I may continue my report on the transgressions of the ghost, Jacob?”
    “Oh by all means,” I said. “Don’t let me stop you, Cyril.”
    “There have been numerous reports of Jacob haunting the ladies’ showers and changing rooms.”
    “I keep getting lost.”
    “You’re not fooling anyone, Jacob,” I said.
    “And,” said the Sarjeant, “there have even been reports of him chasing the ghost of the headless nun through the catacombs.”
    Jacob grinned. “Hey, she’s the only other ghost in the Hall. Can you blame me if I just want to swap a little ectoplasm? Nice arse, for a nun. Damn, she’s fast on her feet, especially considering she can’t see where she’s going.”
    “You’re a member of the Inner Circle!” snapped the Sarjeant. “You’re supposed to set an example!”
    “Oh, I am, I am…”
    “Stop that,” I said quickly. “Your ectoplasm’s going all quivery. Let us move on. Are we any closer to establishing who was behind the recent attacks on the Hall, just before I was summoned home? Do we have any new information?”
    “Nothing. Not a word,” said the Armourer.
    “Perhaps we should ask the strange matter,” said the Sarjeant pointedly. “Since it did