The Purple Emperor

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

Brimstone had a moment of funk – he hadn't bothered with a circle and now there were an awful lot of demons to control. He raised his hand and drew a series of command sigils with his finger. They should have appeared in the air, outlined in flame, but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. Then, with a muttered curse, he remembered magic didn't work that way in the Analogue World. You had to earth every visualisation!

The demons were spreading out across the church, hopping across pews and climbing up the walls. One of them started grimly to beat up a statue of a saint. Brimstone grabbed a piece of parchment from his bag and savagely bit the end of his right thumb. As the blood welled up, he drew the sigils roughly on the paper:

' "Give unto this skin power to assume the signs that I have made upon it!"' he called through pursed lips. (Biting himself on the thumb had proved incredibly painful.) ' "Which signs are inscribed with my blood in order that such inscriptions may be endowed with power to do that which I desire."' Honorius the Great was so long-winded. ' "And make it so that it will also repel the devilment of demons who shall become afraid when they see these characters, and who will be able only to tremble as they behold them and approach."' That should do it.

He waved the parchment in the air, the inscribed side facing the approaching demons. 'See that?' he shouted. 'Now pull yourselves together and line up in orderly ranks!'

The demons ignored him. Several scampered through the broken window high up in the wall behind the altar and disappeared into the world outside. 'Come back!' Brimstone screamed. They were just a cab ride from New York City: demons could run that distance in no time. There'd be riots if they turned up in Times Square. He waved the paper again. 'If you don't behave, I'll stuff this parchment up -'

The demons stopped skittering abruptly and began to congregate to one side of the altar. Those on the walls slid down sheepishly. 'That's better,' Brimstone began, before realising their behaviour had nothing to do with his command sigils. An enormous horned figure was squeezing awkwardly through the portal.

'You might have made it bigger,' Beleth growled. 'You know I had to set up a special connection from the Faerie Realm.'

The demon prince was looking a lot more together than the last time Brimstone had seen him. His broken horn had regrown and his skin taken on a luminous red tinge that made him look as if his insides were on fire. He also seemed to have grown talons. Or had he always had them? Brimstone shook his head. He was sure he'd have noticed before.

'Honorius didn't know about resizing,' he explained. 'Or if he did, he didn't put it in his grimoire.' He watched Beleth warily, more aware than ever there was no circle of protection, but the prince only stretched luxuriously.

'No matter,' Beleth said. 'You've set up a working portal and that's the main thing.'

'So we're quits?' Brimstone asked quickly. 'I can go now?' He never liked to admit it, but he always felt a little uncomfortable in the Analogue World. Too much of his basic magic didn't work the way it should and a lot of the people here seemed deranged. He'd no idea why Beleth wanted portal access here, but now the demons were through, Brimstone was well content to leave them to get on with whatever damage they planned to inflict on New York.

'Quits?' Beleth echoed, his voice reverberating through the church. He smiled. 'Not quite, Brimstone. Not quite.'