Practical Demonkeeping
think.
“Meanwhile, Catch kept taking his victims. I tried to point him toward thieves and grifters when I could, reasoning that if he must kill, at least I could protect the innocent.
“I haunted libraries, looking for the oldest books on magic and demonology I could find. Perhaps somewhere I could find an incantation to send the demon back. I performed hundreds of rituals—drawing pentagrams, collecting bizarre talismans, and putting myself through all sorts of physical rigors and diets that were supposed to purify the sorcerer so the magic would work. After repeated failures, I realized that the volumes of magic were nothing more than the work of medieval snake-oil salesmen. They always added the purity of the sorcerer as a condition so they would have an excuse for their customers when the magic did not work.
“During this same time I was still looking for a priest who would perform an exorcism. In Baltimore I finally found one who believed my story. He agreed to perform an exorcism. For his protection, we arranged to have him stand on a balcony while Catch and I remained in the street below. Catch laughed himself silly through the entire ritual, and when it was over, he broke into the building and ate the priest. I knew then that finding the girl was my only hope.
“Catch and I kept moving, never staying in one place longer than two or three days. Fortunately there were no computers in those days that might have tracked the disappearances of Catch’s victims. In each town I collected a list of veterans, then ran leads to the ground by knocking on doors and questioning the families. I’ve been doing that for over seventy years. Yesterday I think I found the man I was looking for. As it turned out, E was his middle initial. His name is J. Effrom Elliot. I thought my luck had finally turned. I mean the fact that the man is still alive is pretty lucky in itself. I thought that I might have to trace the candlesticks through surviving relatives, hoping that someone remembered them, perhaps had kept them as an heirloom.
“I thought it was all over, but now Catch is out of control and you are keeping me from stopping him forever.”
27
AUGUSTUS
Augustus Brine lit his pipe and played back the details of Travis’s story in his mind. He had finished the bottle of wine, but if anything, it had brought clarity to his thoughts by washing away the adrenaline from the morning’s adventure.
“There was a time, Travis, that if someone had told me a story like that, I would have called the mental-health people to come and pick him up, but in the last twenty-four hours reality has been riding the dragon’s back, and I’m just trying to hang on myself.”
“Meaning what?” Travis asked.
“Meaning I believe you.” Brine rose from the chair and began untying the ropes that bound Travis.
There was a scuffling behind them and Brine turned to see Gian Hen Gian coming through the living room wearing a flowered towel around his waist and another around his head. Brine thought he looked like a prune in a Carmen Miranda costume.
“I am refreshed and ready for the torture, Augustus Brine.” The Djinn stopped when he saw Brine untying the demonkeeper . “So, will we hang the beast from a tall building by his heels until he talks?”
“Lighten up, King,” Brine said.
Travis flexed his arms to get the blood flowing. “Who is that?” he asked.
“That,” Brine said, “is Gian Hen Gian , king of the Djinn .”
“As in genie?”
“Correct,” Brine said.
“I don’t believe it.”
“You are not in a position to be incredulous toward the existence of supernatural beings, Travis. Besides, the Djinn was the one who told me how to find you. He knew Catch twenty-five centuries before you were born.”
Gian Hen Gian stepped forward and shook a knotted brown finger in Travis’s face. “Tell us where the Seal of Solomon is hidden or we will have your genitals in a nine-speed reverse action blender with a five-year guarantee before you can say shazam !”
Brine raised an eyebrow toward the Djinn . “You found the Sears catalog in the bathroom.”
The Djinn nodded. “It is filled with many fine instruments of torture.”
“There won’t be any need for that. Travis is trying to find the seal so he can send the demon back.”
“I told you,” Travis said, “I’ve never seen the Seal of Solomon. It’s a myth. I read about it a hundred times in books of magic, but it was always described
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