Furcas didn't look like a demon. Well, not what Paul thought of as a demon. In fact, he looked like someone's granddad. Perhaps not a twinkle-in-his-eye, here's-sixpence sort of granddad, maybe the kind of granddad families didn't talk about, and didn't leave alone with the kids, but not a creature from another dimension. His hair was white and tidy. A white beard was platted into a point. He rested his hands lightly on a silver-topped cane. Almost everything about him, from his dark suit to his wrinkled skin said he was just an old man. Only his eyes betrayed him. They were quick and intelligent, with a yellow hue to them that reminded Paul of a crocodile.

"Furcas, demon of the Pit, I have summoned you forth according to the rites and rituals laid down from ancient times," said Oz in a commanding voice. Furcas turned to face the wizard.

"I have confined you within borders inviolate, chained you with spells that cannot be broken and bound you by decree. I charge you to remain within the circle, and to visit no harm on any here present."

Furcas nodded to himself. "You realise, of course, that almost all of that is pure superstition and poppycock? But it is tradition, and I thank you for it." He looked down at the offerings. "Is that apple for me?" he asked, puzzled. "Oh, I see. A sacrifice. Well, that's certainly different. I think that's the first time someone has offered me fruit." He prodded it with his cane. "The still-beating heart of an enemy was traditional at one point."

"We have a vegetarian present," said Oz.

Furcas turned. "The witch. A curious mix; all Earth Mother in her heart but nails in her head. You do not belong here, little girl. Shouldn't you be off healing little animals and listening to the voices in the wind? Run along and find a husband to care for."

Ess set her mouth in a thin line and narrowed her eyes.

"You don't want me here? Good! Get used to it, I'm staying."

Furcas looked down at her feet. Scarth had prostrated himself, hands over his head and shaking with fear.

"Ah, and the abomination."

Furcas snarled, an animal sound that issued from deep within his throat. After a few seconds Paul realised it was a language. Scarth whimpered and answered in short, whining snarls of his own. Ess stepped forward.

"Leave him alone, you bastard," she ordered. "He's done nothing to you."

Furcas laugh incredulously. "Or what, little girl? You think you have power? You think you can stand up to me? Why do you even care? It has murdered your kind, sent innocent souls screaming in pain and terror down to the Pit of Pain."

"Are you any better?" asked Paul.

Furcas turned to face Paul. "Oh, let's not forget the main player in all of this; the instigator of all this pain and heartbreak, the bringer of destruction. How is it working out for you, boy? Are you rolling in riches undreamt of? Have you power over all the kingdoms of the earth? Have you even lost your virginity yet? Oh, what a force; the wizard, the witch and the wimp. I can hear the quaking of demonic horde from here. Oh, wait, no, that's laughter."

"Yet, here we all are," said Oz. "We can trade insults all evening, if you want. I'm a professor. I insult students all day. Or we can discuss our mutual interests. What do you say?"

"Mutual interests? Mutual interests? What could I possibly have in common with you?"

Oz shrugged. "It seems to me that you engineered this meeting, practically begged Paul to summon you. We want to solve the Scarth problem, you, I guess, want your old job back. I take it you have a plan to bring both about."

Furcas shook his head. "You think that is it? You think this is all about petty ambition on my part? You think that the abomination is your real problem? I had forgotten the monumental arrogance you insects have. But, no matter. Think what you want, it is all the same to me. I was foolish to believe you could be of any service to me. Dismiss me, wizard, and I will find more suitable material."

Oz smiled. "You ever been to Morocco? I have. Agadir, back in the seventies when it was cool and trendy and full of hippy women looking for enlightenment. If you've never haggled for an hour to get an extra Dirham knocked off a pair of sandals, you've never negotiated. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? The pubs are open, and I can't be bothered with all this posing and farting around. We both need something from each other. Let's hear your proposal."

Furcas stared at Oz, then gave his cold smile again. He turned and stepped towards Paul. Paul gave an involuntary step backwards, then stepped forward again, to show he wasn't afraid. It fooled nobody.

"You think that is your problem?" Furcas demanded, stabbing a finger towards Scarth. "You think a little mongrel runt yipping at your heels is the source of all your woes? He is nothing. He is less than nothing, a retarded half-breed that should never have been conceived. He is not your problem, Roath is." Paul heard the loathing in the name. "Roath is its master, a little joke at his expense that he has had hanging round his neck for a time longer than you can imagine. Now he is Lord of the Pit, he has decided that his responsibilities do not include his little bastard anymore. Congratulations, he is now your responsibility. You tried to send him back, did you not? Tell me, how successful was that? Do you know why?"

Paul shook his head, mute under the force of the venom pouring from the demon.

"Because stupidity begets stupidity. That thing is stupid, in every way. Even the most lowly demon has a natural inclination, a certain instinct that drives it to serve the Great Plan. That," he flung his arm out at Scarth again, "is too stupid to poke a stick at a fallen priest. Even if you showed it how to torment a soul in the simplest way, ten minutes later it would have forgotten. And how do you get an abomination like this? You get an idiot to screw a mindless beast, that's how, and then allow the mother to live until she drops her litter."

"Wait," said Ess. "Are you saying, Scarth's father is ... Lord Roath?"

"He would rip out your tongue for saying it, but yes. He amused himself with a sprite, and that was the result. It has enough demon blood in it to make it immortal, but not enough to make it worth a damn to anybody. Now Roath is Lord of the Pit, he found a way to rid himself of the reminder of his stupidity. All the time he remains in a position of power, you will not be able to rid yourself of your curse. Roath is your target, not that thing."

"And with Roath out of the way, someone would need to take his place, eh? Very altruistic of you," said Paul. He felt the need to twist the knife in the old man, even if only a little. He wasn't sure whether Ess had noticed the virginity comment, or believed it if she had, but he wanted revenge for it.

"You think I could be Lord of the Pit again? Millennia I was in control, and under me things worked the way they always had, the way they should. Then Roath came along and suddenly nothing was sacred. Oh, that's right, sneer at a demon using a word like 'sacred' but it is true nonetheless. He stripped away my support, and with it the ritual and tradition that had been in place since before your sort crawled from the sea. The whole Underworld saw my humiliation, and we have memories that never end. I can never be Lord of the Pit, after what he did. I doubt I could even command a legion now."

"So, it's revenge you're after?"

"I am a demon. Of course I want revenge, boy. I want to hold his head in the burning coals and laugh as his eyes boil away, but there is something I want more."

"What?"

"I want the Pit to be governed properly. I want to serve under a demon lord who knows the old ways, and why they have survived so long. I want idiots like Roath and his followers condemned to shovelling shit in the stables of the four riders."

"You want Snickers to be called Marathon again," said Oz.

Furcas frowned. "What?"

Oz shook his head. "Never mind. It's something that happens to all of us after a while. We get set in our ways, and don't want things to change."

"No," said Furcas. "Things change, I accept that. Today, one man can kill thousands in an instant. A politician can say one word and condemn a race to starvation on the other side of the world. This is change, and I embrace it. But Roath destroys our power without even realising the consequences. He thinks because something is tradition or ritualised that it serves no purpose."

Furcas whirled and pointed a finger at Paul. "You! How did you discover his name?"

"I ... erm ... he told me, I think, when he told me he wasn't taking Scarth back."

"He told you his name, even though he didn't have to. See? Idiocy! How did you summon him? Did you bind him in a magic circle, as you've bound me?"

"No. I mean, I would have, only I wasn't expecting him. I was sending Scarth back, not summoning him."

"Exactly. He appeared, and you didn't even summon him. You had him right in the palm of your hand, and neither of you were intelligent enough to realise it. In his arrogance, he believes that he can do as he pleases, without consequence. That is his weakness. That is how you can trap him."

"And then?" asked Oz. "How does that help us, exactly, when he's trapped? I can see your angle, but how is that going to help Paul with his problem?"

Furcas nodded slowly. "A fair question. When Roath is trapped, his contracts will be redistributed amongst the lieutenants and his successor. I will ensure that the contract between the boy and the abomination becomes ... misplaced. He will be free of it."

"How can we be sure of that?"

"You have my word," said Furcas.

Oz laughed.

"Yeah, right, that's going to go a long way, isn't it."

"You doubt my word?"

"Too bloody right I do," said Oz with feeling. "You're a demon. Who would trust your word? Your sort doesn't exactly have a good track record in that department. No, if we are going to do this, we'll have a contract, drawn up in the old way and binding."

"No!" said Furcas, far too quickly.

"No?" said Oz. "A demon not wanting a contract? Now, why would that be? Oh, wait, because then it would be on the record, would that be it? I don't suppose it would do you or your cause too much good if word got out that you helped humans against a fellow demon, would it? Am I close?"

"It would not be in your best interests either, if word got out, at least take my word on that. I think we can trust each other on this one occasion. Neither of us would want to face the consequences of tonight's agreement."

"Plausible deniability. Okay, I can see that," said Oz. "You'll forgive me if I don't shake on it, though?"

Furcas gave a cold smile. "Then we have a deal."

"No," said Ess.

"Excuse me? What has this to do with you?" said Furcas.

"What happens to Scarth?" asked Ess.

"Scarth goes away and is no longer your problem."

"Not good enough," said Ess, folding her arms.

"Not good enough? But that is everything you want."

"Not everything. What happens to him?"

Furcas gave a shrug. "I don't know. He gets returned to the Pit. He gets a new master on Earth. He ascends to the heavens in a pink balloon, surrounded by fluffy bunnies. Who cares? I have not planned that far ahead. The point is, he is no longer your problem."

"No, I want assurances about his future."

"His future?" cried Furcas. "What sort of future has that thing got? Stones lying deep in some forgotten forest have more of a future than that. Quit while you are ahead, little girl, and leave the negotiation to the big boys."

Behind his back, Oz winced and covered his eyes.

"You complete and utter bastard," said Ess. Her voice was low and quiet, and all the more frightening for it. "This poor creature had been abused and tortured from his birth, rejected by his parents, witnessed who knows what atrocities. Did you ever think to help him? Did you ever encourage him? No, because all you know is pain and degradation and brute force. You're a bully, and that's the only way you know how to think. God, I hate bullies. But now, you need us. Now, you can't get what you want without our help. So, you're going to think that far ahead, and you're going to make sure that Scarth is okay after the end of this, and you are not going to abuse him any further. Understand?"

"And if I don't?"

"If you don't, no power on this Earth or the next will stop me from hunting you down. You think you can make a soul suffer? I will teach you suffering like you have never imagined. I will find you, and if I die trying my spirit will find you, and when I do, you will regret ever having crossed me. I will break your fucking legs!"

Furcas laughed, a cold and humourless sound. "You? What could you possibly do, little girl? You think I'm scared of you? Come here, and show me how frightening you can be."

Ess took a step forward.

"No!" cried Paul and Oz in unison.

She took another step.