Practical Demonkeeping

They all froze and listened as the machine played Je

Travis looked to Brine. “No one knows I’m here.”

“They do now. Pick it up.”

Travis picked up the phone, and the answering machine clicked off.

“This is Travis.”

Brine watched the color drain out of the demonkeeper’s face as he listened. “Is she all right?” Travis said into the phone. “Let me talk to her. Who are you? Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Brine couldn’t imagine what was going on in the conversation.

Suddenly Travis screamed into the phone, “He’s not an Earth spirit — he’s a demon. How can you be so stupid?”

Travis listened for a moment more, then looked at Augustus Brine and covered the receiver with his hand. “Do you know where there are some caves to the north of town?”

“Yes,” Brine said, “the old mushroom farm.”

Travis spoke into the phone, “Yes, I can find it. I’ll be there at four.” He sat down hard on one of the kitchen chairs and let the phone fall into its cradle.

“What’s going on?” Brine demanded.

Travis was shaking his head. “Some woman is holding Je

“I don’t understand,” Brine said. “What does she want?”

“She thinks that Catch is some kind of benevolent Earth spirit. She wants his power.”

“Humans are so ignorant,” the Dji

“But what does she want with you?” Brine asked. “She has the candlesticks and the invocations.”

“They’re in Greek. They want me to translate the invocations or they’ll kill Je

“Let them,” the Dji

Travis exploded. “They thought of that, you little troll! If I don’t show up at four, they’ll kill Je

Augustus Brine checked his watch. “We’ve got exactly an hour and a half to come up with a plan.”

“Let us retire to the saloon and consider our options,” the Dji

32

THE HEAD OF THE SLUG

Augustus Brine led the way into the Head of the Slug. Travis followed, and Gian Hen Gian shuffled in last. The saloon was nearly empty: Robert was sitting at the bar, another man sat in the dark at a table in the back, and Mavis was behind the bar. Robert turned as they entered. When he saw Travis, he jumped off the stool.

“You fucking asshole!” Robert screamed. He stormed toward Travis with his fist cocked for a knockout blow. He got four steps before Augustus Brine threw out a massive forearm that caught him in the forehead. There was a flash of te

“Who is that?” Travis asked.

“Je

“Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“There isn’t time,” Brine said. “Besides, he might be able to help.”

Mavis Sand was standing on a plastic milk box peering over the bar at Robert’s supine form. “Nice move, Asbestos,” she said. “I like a man that can handle himself.”

Brine ignored the compliment. “Do you have any smelling salts?”

Mavis climbed down from her milk box, rummaged under the bar for a moment, and came up with a gallon bottle of ammonia. “This should do it.” To Travis and the Dji

Gian Hen Gian stepped up to the bar. “Could I trouble you for a small quantity…”

“A salty dog and a draft, please,” Travis interrupted.

Brine wrapped one arm under Robert’s armpits and dragged him to a table. He propped him up in a chair, retrieved the ammonia bottle from the bar, and waved it under Robert’s nose.

Robert came to, gagging.

“Bring this boy a beer, Mavis,” Brine said.

“He ain’t drinking today. I’ve been pouring him Cokes since noon.”

“A Coke, then.”

Travis and the Dji

“What hit me?”

“I did,” Brine said. “Robert, I know you’re angry at Travis, but you have to put it aside. Je

Robert started to protest, but Brine raised a hand and he fell silent.

“For once in your life, Robert, do the right thing and listen.”

It took fifteen minutes for Brine to relate the condensed version of the demon’s story, during which time the only interruption was the screeching feedback of Mavis Sand’s hearing aid, which she had cranked up to maximum so she could eavesdrop. When Brine finished, he drained his beer and ordered a pitcher. “Well?” he said.

Robert said, “Gus, you’re the sanest man I know, and I believe that you believe Je

“I have seen the demon,” came a voice from the dark end of the bar. The figure who had been sitting quietly when they came in stood and walked toward them.

They all turned to see a rumpled and wrinkled Howard Phillips staggering out of the dark, obviously drunk.

“I saw it outside of my house last night. I thought it was one of the slave creatures kept by the Old Ones.”

“What in the hell are you talking about, Howard?” Robert asked.

“It doesn’t matter any longer. What matters is that these men are telling you the truth.”

“So now what?” Robert said. “What do we do now?”

Howard pulled a pocket watch from his vest and checked the time. “You have one hour to plan a course of action. If I can be of any assistance…”

“Sit down, Howard, before you fall down,” Brine said. “Let’s lay it out. I think it’s obvious from what we know that there is no way to hurt the demon.”

“True,” Travis said.

“Therefore,” Brine continued, “the only way to stop him and his new master is to get the invocation from the second candlestick, which will either send Catch back to hell or empower Gian Hen Gian.”

“When Travis meets them, why don’t we just rush them and take it?” Robert said.

Travis shook his head. “Catch would kill Je

“Yes, Robert,” Brine added. “Did we mention that unless Catch is in his eating form, which must have been what Howard saw, no one can see him but Travis?”

“I am fluent in Greek,” Howard said. They all looked at him.

“No,” Brine said. “They expect Travis to be alone. The mouth of the cave is at least fifty yards from any cover. As soon as Howard stepped out, it would be over.”

“Maybe we should let it be over,” Travis said.

“No. Wait a minute,” Robert said. He took a pen from Howard’s pocket and began scribbling figures on a cocktail napkin. “You say there’s cover fifty yards from the caves?” Brine nodded. Robert did some scribbling. “Okay, Travis, exactly how big is the print on the invocation? Can you remember?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters,” Robert insisted. “How big is the print?”

“I don’t know — it’s been a long time. It was handwritten, and the parchment was pretty long. I’d guess the characters were maybe a half-inch tall.”

Robert scribbled furiously on the napkin, then put the pen down. “If you can get them out of the cave and hold up the invocation — tell them you need more light or something — I can set up a telephoto lens on a tripod in the woods and Howard can translate the invocation.”