Free Waywalkers: Number 1 in Series by Catherine Webb Page A

don’t even know there’s any special way I must be put to rest. You think mere iron will do the job.

    ‘Ah,’ said Prince Asmodeus. ‘You’re back. Had a nice time on Earth?’

    ‘Mildly interesting.’

    Beelzebub was watching, silent as always. ‘Tell me,’ demanded Asmodeus, ‘do you think I ought to send a demand to Belial, ordering him to withdraw his forces from the Clawed Pass, or should I go for a surprise attack?’

    Sam wandered to the table and looked down at the map. ‘If you send a demand to Belial,’ he replied evenly, ‘he’ll refuse it as an act of stubbornness.’

    ‘A surprise attack, then?’

    ‘I doubt if it’ll be a surprise. Belial has been looking for the right opportunity to invade for years. I don’t advise giving it to him.’

    ‘Hum.’ Asmodeus strode round to the other side of the map. ‘The Clawed Pass protects one of the best slave routes. The desert beyond is relatively undefended after his damned fort – the slave raiders would have a wonderful time if they can only get there.’

    ‘I won’t help you take slaves.’

    ‘No, you probably won’t,’ he said sourly. ‘You don’t seem to do anything, do you? You’re never here.’

    That’s because I’ve given up on you, my boy.
‘Would you rather I was here? Ruling as once I ruled? Wearing another crown?’

    Asmodeus glanced to Beelzebub for help against this attack on his status. But the old demon had frozen over even more than usual and was staring into the flames. Though the Prince struggled to find a suitable answer, none came. Angry, with embarrassment making him more so, he strode towards the door, mumbling something about ‘state business’ as he went. As childish a tantrum as Sam had ever seen.

    ‘Don’t provoke Belial to more war,’ warned Sam, but Asmodeus had already closed the door.

    Sighing, Sam sank on to the fireside chair facing Beelzebub, folding his legs up so that his chin rested on his knees and he was no larger than a child. ‘Why did we crown him?’

    ‘Because demons acknowledge physical strength only. Because they want for Prince a man ruthless enough to kill his own brothers, and because we too want a man ruthless enough.’ He was giving the answer Sam had heard many times before.

    The old demon added, ‘You’re spending longer and longer on Earth. Are you finally giving up on us?’

    ‘I don’t know. But I’m sorry anyway.’

    ‘No. I am the sorry one.’

    They sat in silence a while longer.

    ‘Bubble, there may be bigger trouble coming than we thought,’ said Sam finally. Bubble was the name he always used, partly to infuriate his companion, partly out of fondness, partly because he’d worn so many names himself he’d got into the habit of applying different ones to others.

    ‘Bigger than Asmodeus waging another futile war on Belial?’

    ‘Much. My family is at war again.’ Sam described the circumstances of Freya’s death.

    He added, ‘I believe she was conducting investigations into the four keys.’

    If Bubble’s face ever showed anything, it showed surprise then. ‘The four keys?’ he echoed. ‘The Pandora keys? They’re lost.’

    ‘That’s what I’ve been told too. But Freya is dead. There is war in Heaven.’

    There followed another silence, longer and more pained, in which their minds ran to certain obvious conclusions. Images of war and destruction played before their eyes, full of beings gloating at the future to be wrought.

    Sam found himself yawning from exhaustion at his thoughts. Bubble asked, ‘Are you staying here?’

    ‘No. The humans have got it into their heads that I may be part of Freya’s death. And there are people I must find – urgently.’

    ‘What do you want me to do?’

    ‘I need information on the keys. Clues as to where they’re hidden, what it means if their powers are unleashed, everything. And do what you always do. Keep Asmodeus out of trouble. Forestall the inevitable war as long as