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But before I can stop him, Pax whips his sword from the leg of his trousers (how the fuck was he hiding it in there?) and he and the Viking stride toward the creature. Pax slashes at it with his blade, but all he manages to do is slice the air.
The creature whirls around, and that great whip of fire lashes out and wraps around Björn’s ankle.
The Viking hollers with pain. He slashes his blade through the fire, freeing his leg. But as he staggers back, he can no longer bear his own weight.
He collapses to his knees. Pax leaps in front of him as the creature rears up again.
“Run!” Pax booms as he raises his sword. “Leave this place. Run back to your homes and hide.”
You don’t have to tell the village of Grimdale twice. They don’t even stop to form a queue, but scamper away as the beast…creature…fuckingdemonadvances on Pax.
“What do we do?” I cry. “Pax?”
“Quickly, we don’t have much time.” The priest pulls something from his pocket. I recognise the wooden box he kept in his desk, filled with the spiky crosses he’d taken from members of the Order of the Noble Death. “Do you still have Father Bryne’s cross?”
I pull it out of my pocket.
“And you’re packing moldavite, I assume?”
I nod again, dipping my hand into my other pocket.
Father Maxwell’s shoulders sag. “I think between the two of us, we will have enough power to banish it. But first, we need to trap it with a demon mark.”
“What’s that?”
“Demons are malevolent spirits, much older and more powerful than your friend Jack the Ripper, who have been given a new name and a new purpose by the Lord of Death. A demon’s name is the source of its power. Whoever controls the name, controls the demon. What we need to do is draw the image of the demon’s name into the earth and then lure him into it.”
“But we don’t know the demon’s name.”
“I do. It’s…” Father Maxwell says a word that’s halfway between a phlemy cough and a power ballad. “This demon has been chasing me for some time.”
“What the fuck did you do to bechasedby a demon?”
“Demons are drawn to the magic we use when we resurrect people. Björn has always been able to hold him off before. But this time, I gave him too much power.”
“What? Do you mean that every time I use my power I’m potentially attracting demons? You don’t think this was something you should have told me?”
“There’s no time to explain!” The priest bends over and scratches at the dirt with his hands. The summer sun has baked the village green solid, and all he succeeds in doing is pulling out a few blades of grass. “It’s no use. This earth is too hard. We’ll never draw the symbol here.”
“What about the fruit?” I ask, jiggling my basket of cucumbers on my arm.
“Yes,” Ambrose cries. “We use the fruit to create the demon mark.”
“That could work.” The priest’s eyes flutter shut. “It’s worth a try. Bring me all the fruit you can.”
I dump out my basket of cucumbers. The priest arranges them in a circle.
“We need more!”
I peer over my shoulder. Pax is now chasing the demon through the farm animal petting zoo. He’s discarded his sword in favour of the hammer from the hi-striker game. The demon howls as Pax smashes its horn into the tea cosy booth.
Heart pounding, I rush to the nearest vegetable stall and grab handfuls of heirloom purple carrots. I run them back to Father Maxwell.
“I need something large and round,” he yells at me as he begins to line up the carrots in an esoteric shape.
“Pax!” I yell as I sprint back. “I need melons!”
“Toooo Valhalla! Odin owns you all!” Björn hefts himself up and springs toward the demon, his sword slashing through the air. Pax ducks as Björn swings his sword over his head, diverting the demon’s attention. Pax grabs two of the largest melons from a nearby display and bowls them underarm at me.
