Herbie Brennan - Faerie Wars

'Something out here you should see, dear boy…' It was the voice of Jasper Chalkhill.

Brimstone abandoned the licence and tossed a handful of asafoetida on the fire. Beleth popped like a balloon as the smoke rolled over him. Asafoetida always did for demons, commoner or prince. The stench was so foul it made burning sulphur smell like perfume. 'Coming!' Brimstone called. He snuffed the candles hastily and stepped out of the circle fumbling for his key. Behind him the trapped lightning hissed and spat from globe to globe, but he'd find a way to switch it off later. He unlocked the door and opened it a crack. The first person he saw was Chalkhill, grinning broadly. He'd been doing something to his teeth so that they fizzed and sparkled in the light.

The grin died as Chalkhill sniffed. 'Have you been dismissing demons?'

Brimstone ignored him. 'What is it? What do you want me to see?'

Chalkhill gestured with his head and the grin returned. 'A handsome young man,' he said. 'We caught him skulking in the factory.'

Brimstone opened the door a little wider so he could see who Chalkhill had brought with him.

The commotion behind him swelled until it sounded like a riot, but Pyrgus Malvae was more concerned with what was going on in front. The guards on the observation platform were no longer looking bored. They were running from every direction to head him off. Two of them were already between him and the exit door.

Pyrgus dodged to one side. A guard lunged after him and Pyrgus tripped him up. The second guard was a lot more cautious. He drew a stun wand from his belt, placed himself squarely between Pyrgus and the door, and waited.

Pyrgus hesitated. There were running footsteps on the platform, footsteps on the stairway behind him. Time was not on his side. He feinted to the right, but the guard refused to move. His eyes were locked on Pyrgus and stayed there. He was not a particularly big man – only a little taller than Pyrgus himself – and Pyrgus might just have taken him in a straight fight. But this wasn't a straight fight. The guard had a stun wand and Pyrgus was hampered by the cat cage.

They stared at one another. The pursuit closed in on Pyrgus from all sides. His eyes flickered from the guard for just a second and he saw that the kittens had left their mother and were lined up with their noses pressed against the wire, watching him with great round trusting eyes. Pyrgus did the only thing he could do. He drew the Halek knife.

The guard's eyes widened when he saw the translucent blade. He spoke to Pyrgus for the first time. 'I got a stun wand,' he said.

'And you might stun me with it,' Pyrgus nodded. 'But you'd better do it first time, otherwise you're dead.'

The guard stared at him, his gaze wavering between Pyrgus's face and the knife in his hand. Charged energies writhed like serpents beneath the crystal surface. Pyrgus held out the blade and flicked it so sparks trailed from the tip. 'Just a touch,' he said. 'That's all it needs – just one little touch.' He thought he caught a flash of fear in the guard's eyes and made a snap decision. If he didn't get away within the next few seconds, the guards would be on him like an avalanche.

Pyrgus hurled himself forward. But he twisted his body so there was no chance that the knife might touch the guard. For just the barest moment the man held his position, then his nerve broke and he jumped to one side, the stun wand flailing wildly. Pyrgus was through the exit door before he recovered his balance.

He slammed the door behind him and raced up the corridor.

He knew he wasn't going to get away. The guards were already boiling into the corridor behind him, alarm sirens were sounding all over the place and any idiot could figure out the first thing they'd do was close the exits. So in a minute he'd be caught and the cat and her kittens would be taken back into the foul production plant. Pyrgus didn't care much what happened to him – he'd wriggled out of worse predicaments – but he couldn't let the kittens be killed. He raced round a bend in the corridor and lost sight of his pursuers for a moment. A sign hanging from the ceiling said TOILETS with an arrow pointing right.

He made the right-angle turn without hesitation. A quick glance told him the toilets were empty (and none too clean). He hesitated. It was possible the guards might run past without realising where he was, but he was not about to bet on it. He spun round to see if he could bolt the doors, but they were spring-loaded affairs without locks. Outside, he could hear the guards approaching in the corridor. There were loop handles on the doors and he looked around for a broom or something he could jam between them. There was no broom, nothing. The sounds were closer now. Would they run past?

'Check the toilets!' he heard someone call.

It was all over. Unless he could find something to jam the doors. A thought occurred to him, but he dismissed it. Then he looked at the kittens in the cage and thought it again.

Pyrgus set down the cage and pulled out his Halek knife. Six months' saving and even then he'd had to win it on a bet. He'd never own another one. Incredibly, he heard the kittens' mother purr. 'Oh, shut up!' Pyrgus muttered. All the same, he couldn't let her die. He shoved the Halek knife between the two looped handles.

It would shatter at the first onslaught, of course. But when it shattered, it would send a charge through the door. The wood would absorb most of it, but enough would get through to stun anybody within the first few feet. And that would give the rest very good reason to pause. It wouldn't stop them, but it would buy him time. He swooped down to grab the cage as the first wave of guards struck the doors. Pyrgus didn't even bother to look back, but he heard a howl as the Halek blade shattered, then screams and a scuffle outside. He hurled himself towards the little window at the far end of the toilets.

He had to stand on a washbasin to get near it. For a moment he didn't think he was going to get it open, but desperation gave him strength. The window looked out over a steep roof and was just big enough for him to climb through. He pushed the cage ahead and flicked the catch. The cage swung open, but the cat and her kittens only looked at him.

'Go on!' hissed Pyrgus. 'Get out of there! Get out of there now,' For heaven's sake you're cats, aren't you? Cats are supposed to be at home on rooftops.'

There were crashing sounds behind him as the guards found their courage and piled in. The queen cat stood up, glanced at Pyrgus briefly, then stepped out on to the roof. Her kittens followed her sure-footedly. Pyrgus flung the empty cage away and started to wriggle through the window. Rough hands grabbed his ankles.

'Oh no you don't!' an angry voice growled.

Kicking and struggling, Pyrgus was dragged back down from the window. The last thing he saw was the cage arcing out over the edge of the roof to drop down towards the ground below.

Pyrgus relaxed. At least the kittens were safe now and the guards would hardly kill him for rescuing a cat. 'All right, all right!' he said. 'I'll come quietly.'

'Let's kill him,' muttered one of the guards. There were more than a dozen of them milling round. Two had Pyrgus by the arms. A burly man with a sergeant's insignia on his uniform stepped forward. 'Yus, let's kill him!' he muttered as he punched Pyrgus in the stomach. Pyrgus doubled up and fought to catch his breath.

'Great idea,' said one of the men holding him. 'We could beat him to death and say he was resisting arrest.' He grabbed a handful of Pyrgus's hair and jerked him upright. The burly sergeant hit him again.

Pyrgus groaned and the whole hideous scene faded briefly to black. He shook his head fiercely, more aware of a drumming noise than anything else. Then consciousness returned and he realised three guards were now raining punches on his chest and stomach. With his arms still pinned, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. He tried to kick his attackers, but his legs wouldn't work – he felt they were moving through treacle. His body slumped and the thought occurred that he might really be beaten to death. The guards had the goblin look of Faeries of the Night, like most of Chalkhill and Brimstone's people. You could never tell how far they'd go.