Chapter 41 The Demon Crisp is Always Abroad

And when Spring herself advances, no more is heard of roof and hearth; the demon crisp is always abroad, currently wandering on the soft pathways around College Green. Every Dublin building shines under the regenerative sun with an individual character; every blossom in the copious hanging baskets of the shops and lampposts bursts with an individual life. O! How the sap rose when Revenge was on the loose, weaving his maze around his targets, as though the threads of a giant spider.

Here Lord Azanth’s companions were not alone those three fine young humans, by whose eager adventuring had levels and skills accrued to his crisp-nature, by whose quick wits had several dangerous crises been navigated. In the footsteps of Liam walked an angel: Mithelasin; to their right was the warden of Grendwrack Castle; above them, his loyal Chief of Spies, confidently walking the white stone lintels of the tall buildings.

Around Lord Azanth, like lost souls in the Seventh Plane of Wickedness, hurried harmless, foolish humans on their way to work: sales assistants, bank tellers, baristas, security guards, receptionists, an architect, a wine taster, a man thinking about his forthcoming chess match, a dog groomer, a florist... Around him assembled the whole choir of humanity, with their varied accents. And since his potato body was filled with benevolence, Lord Azanth did not explore how he might exploit the weaknesses in each to win more souls for his former realm.

Under the archway and into the unexpected light and calm of the quadrangle of Trinity College. That doorway acted as a type of portal, bridging a world of fast-moving commerce, throngs of pedestrians, and the unending arrivals and departures of trams and buses from the space and quiet of the centuries-old university. Not that this new environment was entirely quiet: a pair of seagulls circled high in the sky, shrieking down at him, wishing to eat him; coincidentally a tour guide was talking about salmon. Ah, il s’adjoube, she was mocking the provost George Salmon.

The tourists – Japanese from their attire and manner – turned to watch as Liam strode confidently across the square and past the portal at the campanile. Their eyes and cameras were not on the young man, of course, but the angel walking in his footsteps. Helpless, the tour guide ceased her efforts to keep the attention of her party. How could she compete with one of the greatest stars of the fifteen planes?

Earl Clarence and Lady Liseth are waiting. Just the two of them, as far as I can tell. His Chief of Spies had descended from her lofty position and had run ahead to view the croquet lawn.

On they continued, with students stopping to stare. Some of them, brandishing their phones, followed. Excellent. To have met his nemesis... nemeses... in a closed and private space, as they had desired, would have been to invite disaster. A swift grasp, a chomp of the paladin’s teeth, and Lord Azanth would be nothing but fragments of fried potato. Here, in public, being filmed, in the presence of the angel, it wasn’t impossible that an ambush would take place but most unlikely.

Earl Clarence and Lady Liseth. Prepared for battle and looking much as they did in the promotional poster for the film of the successful raid against Syceus, Lord Azanth’s hated enemies were glittering in the spring sunlight. Breastplate, lance tip, arm guard, strong greaves, helmet, every metal part of the paladin’s garb was gleaming silver. They were laughing as Earl Clarence attempted to steer a yellow ball through a hoop with the shaft of his lance. Good. Let them continue to be unaware of their danger for as long as possible. No prudent antagonist thinks light of his adversaries.

‘Mithelasin! How unexpected a pleasure,’ Earl Clarence straightened, ball forgotten. Even now, he seemed more curious than alarmed. The smile that was formed on his face like that of a child’s drawing, however, could not be sustained when he recognised the warden of Grendwrack Castle.

Lady Liseth placed her hands on the hilts of her swords, voice a hiss, ‘What’s this? Where’s the crisp?’

‘He’s here,’ Liam tapped the case in which Lord Azanth was contained and a most uncomfortable shudder ran through him. ‘But we have come to accuse you, not surrender the crisp.’

‘Accuse us?’ The paladin's voice was raised, addressing the onlookers with bombastic scorn.

Kate took a step towards their enemies. ‘We accuse you of releasing the titans using the staff you took from the warden of Grendwrack Castle.’

‘Nonsense,’ said the paladin.

A shake of Kate’s head. ‘It’s not nonsense.’

‘It is though,’ Lady Liseth put a hand onto the vambrace of her companion in treachery. ‘Come along Clarence, they’ve wasted our time.’

‘Mithelasin is here to find out the truth,’ said Liam loudly and the angel gave a slow, solemn nod. ‘I dare you to say in front of Mithelasin that you did not undo the bindings on any titans.’

‘Of course not, what an absurd utterance. You must be a total rookie Adventurer. Are you crazy? Are you all crazy?’

‘Say it.’

‘Of course I didn’t release the titans. That’s crazy talk.’

Everyone, including the spectators, looked at the angel, whose face remained impassive.

‘Why did you forcibly take my Staff of Binding?’ A fine question from a man in finery. The warden of Grendwrack Castle was out of place here on the Plane of Life, dressed neither as an Adventurer nor in the clothing of the people of this place. It seemed that the warden’s silk shirt, cape and ruffs were providing entertainment to the onlookers, given that they were taking as many videos of the small man as of the angel.

The warden had asked the right question and for a moment there was silence, other than distant and ominous chords drifting across the grounds from the open window of a student bedroom.

‘We had an idea to forge a magic shield to help us with the forthcoming battle with Chronos,’ Liseth was an accomplished liar and Lord Azanth appreciated how smoothly she came up with her response. Just as adroitly, she then shrugged and said, ‘it didn’t work though.’

The warden took a step closer to the demon. ‘Where’s my staff?’

Earl Clarence answered with a contemptuous wave of his hand. ‘That useless old thing? Oh, we gave it to a sergeant of mine to return. It’ll be back with you any day now, I’m sure.’ The paladin drew breath and his voice dropped an octave, filling the grounds with threatening authority. ‘So, this was a set up? What about the crisp? You should hand it over.’

No one answered.

‘Mithelasin, I’m surprised at you. Don’t you see we have an opportunity here to rid the Plane of Life of the demon Azanth forever?’

The angel shook his head.

‘Just think of all the souls you will save from service on the Seventh Plane of Wickedness.’

‘It’s you who has a demon girlfriend,’ said Kate and some of the students watching laughed, causing Earl Clarence to flush.

‘I don’t know who you are and what you are trying to achieve but to say I caused a titan to ravage the planes is a damnable lie. The world needs me to restore our control of the planes. Millions of souls are living in fear of losing all they have and I am their saviour. I know in the modern world everyone wants to be famous,’ the paladin gestured to all the phones being pointed at them, ‘and by your sensational claims you’ll get to go viral. Congratulations. But it won’t work out the way you hope. The world will really see you and what you are doing here and that’s going to hurt you for the rest of your life.’

‘Come on Clarence, no one wants to hear these students mocking us.’ Lord Azanth felt the attention of Lady Liseth momentarily fall upon the Tupperware case. It was a wildly tremulous mind that sought his, one capable of rash action.

Step behind Mithelasin.

Liam immediately did so and Lord Azanth felt a little safer.

Is it done? He reached out for his Chief of Spies.

I’m close. A distraction would be helpful.

Before Lord Azanth could issue instruction to his human allies, the female mage called out. ‘I am Kate Brannigan. I am the daughter of Truth and the handmaid of Justice. No man who abuses his power will ever gain my pity. You are a liar Earl Clarence and by my deeds you will fall further than did professor DuFrey.’

What power was in those words. In the speaking of them, in the defiance of her stance, in the timbre of her voice, Lord Azanth felt the presence of Truth and Justice. Or rather, that this young woman was now properly revealed to him as though sunlight had suddenly fallen upon her through a gap in the clouds. All her determination to be part of the group for months, all her sacrifice of college place, friends and family, was now revealed to Lord Azanth not as a pragmatic choice for a swift route to high level but as a principled one. Like him, she believed in vengeance. That their group of four persons was so capable and resolute owed as much to her as to him.

‘I know this might sound disrespectful,’ Earl Clarence struggled to adopt a paternal tone, ‘but you are being very disrespectful to me. I suggest you go back to your studies and concentrate on becoming an effective Adventurer, capable of helping humans ... and demons face monsters and titans.’

Done.

With a shake of her head, Lady Liseth turned away and walked towards a path on the far side of the croquet lawn. Clenching his teeth, Earl Clarence followed, though not before giving the green croquet ball a mighty kick that sent it crashing into a pale wall with a spray of dust.

‘Daughter of truth?’ Aengus came over, laughing. ‘Where did that come from?’

Looking almost shy now, Kate tipped her face down, so her light fringe hid her eyes. ‘I don’t really know. It’s just, when he said about going viral I felt all those cameras pointed at me and thought I really should try to say something that mattered, something worth sharing.’

Liam gave Kate a pat on the shoulder. ‘It was genius and it’s true as well. I’m proud you’re a member of our group.’

Around the grass square, students and tourists were beginning to move away.

‘Did it work?’ asked the warden.

‘Try it.’ The Chief of Spies stepped away from the shadow of an oak tree so that she could be seen.

From his satchel Aengus drew out the Compass of Seeking. Everyone crowded close and even the angel leaned over to view the needle that was pointing toward the path down which Earl Clarence had left.

‘Seems to be working,’ said Liam.

The assassin nodded. ‘So long as he doesn’t take a deep rummage into his Bag of Holding and find the amulet, we can track them.’

Liam looked up to Mithelasin. ‘Will you come?’

The angel nodded, a fierce light in his eyes.

‘And you might want to call on your friends.’