Free The Demon Collector by Jon Mayhew Page A

closed in as the boar snorted and stamped the ground ready to charge.
    Satan knew why this was exciting.
    With a last roar of rage, the boar hurled itself forward. The men stood firm, hurling their spears.
    They could die, Satan thought. That’s what makes this exciting. They have a game. They have danger. He himself – a creature of light and flame – could never die. Nothing could hurt him.
    That night Satan sat at their campfire and shared their meat but it tasted like ash in his mouth. How could he enjoy anything again? For him, everything was so easily gained. To these men, every moment was precious because it could be taken away in a second by the turn of a stag’s antler or a stumble of their horse. That’s what made life sweet.
    He took the hunter’s dagger and held it above the flame.
    ‘I swear that whoever uses this dagger against me shall find that it can take my life,’ he declared and handed it back to the hunter. ‘But whosoever kills me will also die.’
    ‘I will guard it,’ said the hunter, staring wide-eyed at the stranger at his campfire. ‘I shall keep this dagger a secret. None shall take arms against you, sir.’
    ‘Oh they will,’ muttered Satan, glancing around at the hunter’s men. Some glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. ‘For men talk. Men boast. Rumours spread. And there will be those who seek the Devil’s Dagger. Those who would gladly die to slay me. Whether for fame and glory or for their weakling God, they will seek that dagger and seek to kill me. That dagger will bring misery to every generation of your family unless you throw it away. For men brag. And none will brag more than those who have supped with the great Satan and lived to tell the tale!’
    And with that, he leapt up and ran into the night. Suddenly, Satan felt alive again. Excited. He was mortal – slightly. What a game was this! He could be killed and that made everything sweet.
    Edgy frowned. What did this have to do with anything? He turned the book over in his hands. Its cover glittered in the ruddy light. Snakeskin.
    A banging at Edgy’s door made Henry bark. Edgy leapt off the bed and swung the door open to be greeted by Sally, pale and serious, arms folded, her head to one side.
    ‘Look, if it’s about this room –’ Edgy began.
    ‘Never mind that,’ Sally muttered, giving a cruel grin through clenched teeth. ‘You’re to come with me. The governors want to see you and it’s trouble. I reckon I’ll have me room back within the hour.’

All saint without, all devil within.
    Traditional proverb

Chapter Eleven
    The Governors
    Edgy followed Sally through the silent corridors. Stuffy portraits stared out from the shadows. Henry kept at Edgy’s heel, his ears back, glaring at Sally as she stalked ahead of them. One portrait caught Edgy’s eye. It was filled by a portly-looking gentleman with serious eyebrows and a black fur cloak. The shadows seemed to swirl behind him, shifting somehow as if something lurked there.
    Sally glanced back. ‘Don’t gawp at them,’ she snapped. ‘There’s trapped demons in them paintings. Look too hard and the creature inside might leap out and drag you in.’
    ‘Blimey,’ Edgy said and threw his eyes to the floor. He fell quiet for a while, trying not to look at anything.
    ‘Oh yeah.’ Sally gave a bitter laugh. ‘Full o’ surprises is the old Society of Daemonologie, I should know. Some charmin’ customers walked these corridors in days gone by, I can tell you.’
    Edgy’s stomach turned over. What are these governors like? What are they going to do?
    They stopped at yet another oak-panelled door. Edgy had lost track of the twists and turns of the passages.
    Sally drew a breath and knocked twice. A muffled voice bid them enter. Edgy sat Henry down outside and went in.
    The governors sat around a long, polished table laden with food. Three men and one woman. He recognised Sokket from their encounter in the exhibition hall, sitting there pulling a sour