Read Online Once In a Blue Moon by Simon R. Green - Free Book Online Page B

him, to make sure he had plenty of room, and smiled briefly, understandingly, as he saw the front rows of the crowd already backing away from him. He didn’t seem to concentrate, or make any kind of effort; but just like that he was gone, and in his place stood something that was in no way human.
    It was a good eight feet tall, covered in night-dark scales, while a long barbed tail lashed eagerly back and forth behind it. It had fangs and claws and cloven hooves, and a horrid fright mask for a face. Just looking at it made you want to kill it. The demon was not a natural thing, and its very wrongness raised the hackles on everyone’s necks. It wanted to break loose, to tear and kill and do horrible things, and everyone could feel that.
    The demon put back its hateful face and howled gleefully, a vile sound that reverberated in the Great Hall and sickened everyone who heard it. Hawk and Fisher were on their feet, axe and sword in hand, ready to throw themselves at the demon . . . But it just stood where it was, and made no move to attack. It wanted to kill men and women and glory in their slaughter; but something held it back. Just standing there, it was the most dangerous and deadly thing in the hall, and you could tell that the thoughts that moved in its misshapen head, and the emotions that stirred in its demon heart, had nothing of humanity in them . . . and yet, still, something held it where it was.
    It changed again, as easily as a man might shrug off a cloak, and Christopher Scott was back, standing before the dais. His face was white and drawn, and he looked sick, and shaken. He hugged himself tightly, as though afraid that what was inside him might come out again. Hawk made himself resume his seat, and after a moment Fisher did too.
    “Impressive,” said Hawk, in a surprisingly steady voice. He looked out across the unhappy crowd, many of whom were still shocked and disturbed. He didn’t know how long they would stay quiet, so he hurried on. “A were demon. Well. You see something new every year. How much control do you have over your . . . other self, Christopher Scott?”
    “Not as much as I would wish,” Scott said steadily. “I can feel it inside me, straining against the bars of the cage that holds it. Growing stronger every day. That’s why I came here, sir. Because I just can’t do this anymore. Not on my own. Please, sir Hawk. Tell me you can help me.”
    “You’ve come to the right place,” said Hawk. “We have tutors for everything. We’ll find someone who can help you.”
    “But,” said Fisher, “we reserve the right to chain you up in a cellar every full moon.”
    “Thank you,” said Scott. “Oh, thank you.” He was still saying that when the guards led him away.
    Next up was a dark magician. He made no bones about what he was; in fact, he gloried in it. Emboldened by the rapt attention he was getting from the crowd, he struck a practiced pose before Hawk and Fisher, all the better to show off his dark robes, swirling night-dark cape, and the many kinds of demonic amulets hanging from chains over his chest. He’d even cultivated a nicely trimmed goatee and added some subtle dark makeup around his eyes.
    “All the dark arts are mine to command!” he said grandly. “I can summon up spirits from the vasty deeps, strike down the living and command the dead. All the powers of the night bow down before me . . .”
    “Oh, get on with it,” said Hawk. “We haven’t got all day.”
    “Right,” said Fisher. “Amateur dramatics are auditioning next door.”
    And somehow, in the face of their entirely unimpressed attention and the fixed gaze of the crowd, it turned out the master of dark forces couldn’t do a damned thing. He tried to chant and curse, but the words just wouldn’t come, and his hands shook too much to manage the scary gestures. He grabbed at one of his demonic amulets, but it came off in his hand and he dropped it onto the floor, where it shattered into a