Firetale

by Dante Graves

  Chapter 17: The Moon & the Devil

  “Take off your skin and dance around your bones.”

  Tom Waits, “The Black Rider”

  Everything had gone wrong. And Zaches ran, leaving immediately after the show. Luckily for him, Lazarus, Martha, Greg, and Pietro had gathered in the big top, and Blanche and Black were on the lookout for anyone trying to enter the circus, not for someone trying to escape from it. Zaches’s preparations were quick; he just grabbed his knife and slipped out of the trailer, trying hard not to step on the mirror shards, lest the noise give him away. Fortunately, his camper was always the farthest away, not because Zaches had ever thought about escaping but because he enjoyed being away from the others.

  Blanche and Black were on duty but killing time, playing cards, swearing, and calling each other’s bluff. Zaches waited for them to reach the peak of their dispute. When they were railing at each other determinedly, he ran. Only when he had traveled some distance from the circus, did he realize that his anxiety was unnecessary. He recalled that he had recently disappeared from the circus to summon Astaroth, and no one had noticed his absence. But now, he reminded himself, he was running not for one night, but forever, and fear again seized him. He didn’t know where to go, but he knew that it had to be away from the town. Away from Lazarus and his bloody circus, and away from these terrible Judges.

  The Judge. What had he expected passing an invitation to a stranger? He had foolishly expected that this stranger would be his savior, clear out the circus, catch Greg, and leave Zinno alone with Martha to live together happily ever after as in a fairy tale. Had Zinnober known he would have to deal with the Judge, he would have abandoned his plan. Zaches had violated the Pactum, and not once, although he had only learned of the existence of the Pactum from Lazarus. It was foolish to hope that the Judge would spare him just because he had ratted out Greg.

  Zaches had imagined things differently. He had thought that whoever received the invitation would make Greg vanish from the circus quickly and inexplicably. Instead, one man in a leather coat appeared, talked with Lazarus, and disappeared. Old Bernardius wasn’t a fool, and even if Pietro said nothing, he would be able to understand why the Judge had unexpectedly attended the performance. Zinno felt trapped. One the one hand, he had betrayed Mr. Bernardius, and on the other, he had betrayed the Judge. The only solution was to escape, even if it meant parting with Martha.

  He ran through the woods all the way to the highway that led out of town. His short crooked legs carried him awkwardly, and he often tripped on tree roots and fell. His grazed hands were bloody and his pants were shredded. Every fall wasted time, time he didn’t have. He knew Lazarus would chase him. Who would be his pursuers? The ogres? Greg? If Blanche and Black found him, he would suffer only a couple of head knocks, but who knew what would happen if Greg got to him first? They would be alone in the woods, without witnesses, and Zaches had no illusions about how long he would last with a knife against Greg’s magic. After his fifth fall, Zaches had no doubt that escape was a stupid idea. He needed to stop and turn back before his disappearance was noticed. He could concoct a story for Mr. Bernardius, talk himself out of trouble. But then Zinno imagined Greg and began running again.

  The forest was thick, and at every step, branches lashed Zaches in the face. Tree roots crawled between his feet like evil snakes in search of prey. He was tired of running and falling, tired of the pain in his hands and knees. It seemed sometimes as if his lungs were filled with sharp icicles trying to break out. Sometimes his lungs burned, and sometimes they seemed to be compressed to the size of a walnut. And then it started to rain. Suddenly the sky poured a wall of water, as if someone had turned the switch to maximum. It rained so hard that for a moment Zaches thought he had died and woken up in another place. But the pain throughout his body reminded him that he was still alive. Realizing that the rain was not the end of his torment, but only a new test, Zaches wept. The tears meant he would be running blind, but he was unable to hold back his sobs. He stopped and sat down under a tree, right on the muddy ground. His sparse hair was soaked, water was dripping from it into his eyes, mixing with his tears, and it almost stopped Zaches from seeing anything in front of him. The thought of returning to the circus visited him again, but he told himself that he had gone too far and there was no way back for him.

  Through the rain, Zaches heard sounds. For a moment it seemed to him that it was the sounds of a chase through the forest, breaking branches and small trees in its path. Perhaps it was Blanche and Black coming for him. Then Zinno realized that it was the sound of a car on wet asphalt, splashing water. He must be very close to the highway. Gathering his strength, Zaches ran, guided by the sounds. After a couple of minutes, he climbed up to the side of the road. It was narrow and covered with cracks. In the distance, headlights loomed, and Zinno waved his hand, hoping a random driver would pick him up. But no one paid any attention to him. A car passed without slowing down. Another slowed, as if it might stop, but then accelerated and sped away. Zaches walked along the side of the road, waving his hand, but few drivers even slowed, and no one stopped. It was like a mockery, and Zaches cried again. It was dark and scary, he was soaked to the bone, and his teeth were chattering from the cold. Zinnober was afraid he might die right there on the roadside.

  A black car slowed down and stopped not far from him. When the passenger door opened, Zinnober ran to the car and got inside.

  “Thank you,” the dwarf said in a weak voice to the driver.

  “Don’t mention it. It’s a sin not to help a stranger in such weather,” the driver said cheerfully. He was a blond of indeterminate age, wearing a black jacket over a plain white T-shirt.

  “You hungry?” the blond asked, and he handed Zaches an apple covered with traces of rot. Noticing the embarrassment of his passenger, the man added: “I have only these.” Zaches refused. It was warm inside the car, and Zinnober felt safe. The seat was comfortable; he gradually warmed, and thoughts of cold rain, darkness, and Lazarus Bernardius’s damned circus faded away.

  “Where are you going?” the driver asked.

  “I don’t know. Drop me wherever you’re going,” said Zinnober.

  The blond laughed. “Well, then, we drive the same way.” He drove with one hand holding the rotten apple that Zaches had refused, biting off pieces and chewing them with obvious pleasure. The dwarf thought he saw a worm in the apple. He frowned and turned away and stared out the window, but it was too dark to see anything.

  “Who would have thought you were such a sissy?” the driver said.

  “What?”

  “I say I didn’t think you were such a sissy, Zaches, also known as Zinnober,” the driver said, and he turned to the dwarf. His face was strange. As Zinnober stared at him, it seemed that his face was curved into a crescent, one eye was larger than the other, and his mouth was stretched in an incredibly broad smile.

  Zaches was scared to death. “Who are you?”

  The driver laughed. “I did not think you would recognize me. Not in this guise. We met recently. In a cornfield.”

  “Astaroth?”

  “At least you don’t have memory problems.”

  “Why, why do you look like that?”

  “You’d rather see a donkey driving a car? My look is disgusting and horrible only when a person summons me himself. It’s to make the summoner shit his pants in fear, and force him to stop learning demonology henceforth. So God decided. But when I am in this world ad libitum, I can choose my appearance.”

  “How did you find me? I did not summon you!”

  “I see Pietro neglected to tell you one detail about the summoning. One summoning is enough to let a demon, let us say, remember you. After the call, you are connected. A demon’s summoner becomes a beacon that stands out among all the other people. Henceforth, the demon will always know the location of the person who summoned him. Well, until the summoner dies.” The driver laughed. “After that, they are likely to meet in Hell. But
enough digression into demonology. I have come for you.”

  “For me? I have to give my soul because I summoned you once?”

  “What an idiot! Your soul is worth pennies. I want you.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “For some reason, I temporarily lost all my servants and assistants. So I need to recruit new ones. And you’ll be the first of them, Zaches, also known as Zinnober.”

  “And what are the reasons?”

  “All in good time, dwarf.”

  “And if I do not want to?”

  “Oh, you’re stubborn! But whether you want to or not does not matter to me. I’m not going to argue with you.” The passenger door suddenly opened, and Astaroth pushed Zaches outward. The dwarf screamed, closed his eyes, and cringed, expecting to hit the asphalt, but instead he felt the wind shaking him like a reed. The car was not riding on the road; it was rushing at an insane speed through the night air. Zaches could see the lights of houses and a few cars in the darkness below. Astaroth was holding his pant leg. Zaches hung upside down and watched as people’s lifetimes flowed peacefully a few hundred meters below. These people did not care about what was happening at this moment over their heads. A cold wind whipped his cheeks and climbed into his ears. Its whistling sound was deafening, and raindrops hurt his face and hands. Astaroth yanked his hand, and Zaches cried out, afraid the demon would open his hand and drop him.

  “Okay, okay! I agree! I’ll be your servant,” Zaches screamed into the howling wind. Astaroth yanked his hand again, listened to the frightened Zinnober yelp, and pulled him back into the car. Awkwardly sitting on the seat, Zinno tried to fight off his fear. He would not be able to cope with an immortal demon who always knew where he was. He was a toy in Astaroth’s hands. But for some reason he needed this toy.

  “How should I serve you, master?” asked Zinno.

  “You see, this circus of Lazarus Bernardius … my brother is too worried about its welfare. Believe me, he’s not sentimental, even though people like to think otherwise, so I think something is wrong there. Perhaps somewhere in this circus is my ticket home. And I’m going to use you, my little Zaches, to find it without drawing unwanted attention. And if you serve me well, you will get what you want. For example, you won’t see this ugly face in the mirror, and even demionis won’t see your real face.”

  “Is it true, master?” Zinnober asked hopefully.

  Astaroth laughed. “Of course, little Zaches! But be careful, because I sometimes give false promises.”