A/N: See the bottom of the page for footnotes, which are indicated in the text by asterisks (*).

Chapter 1

Half a mile from the missionary church, Father Phil stopped at a crossroads and took a sword from under his cassock. Struggling to steady his trembling hand, he began to trace a circle in the dirt.

He had to work quickly, before anyone saw him. He hadn't discussed his plan to summon a demon with anyone, but he suspected that the Pope would disapprove.

At last the circle was complete, along with the symbols shown in the dread Liber Secretorum Salomonis.* The priest stepped into the circle and spoke the forbidden words.

At last he turned to the native tied up beside him and slashed her throat, gulping down the steaming blood as it pumped from her arteries. According to the book, this last step was not strictly necessary, but it contributed to the atmosphere.

"Hey! I'm down here," said a voice.

Father Phil cast his gaze downward.

"Farther."

Lowering his eyes farther, the priest saw a tiny kitten gazing up at him. Jet black except for two large, unjustifiably cute eyes, the kitten squatted at the edge of the circle.

"You summoned me?" said the demon.

"Um, yes, I suppose so," said the priest.

"Something seems to be troubling you."

"Well, no offense, but I always pictured demons being, you know, more demonic."

"My apologies," the demon said testily. "Most humans find this form reassuring. If you want, I can appear as a twelve-story-tall winged skeleton with eyes that shoot fireballs."

"Never mind," Father Phil said quickly, rummaging in his blood-drenched cassock. "Anyway, I summoned you because—"

"Yes, yes," the demon said, waving his paw adorably. "We know what you want. But are you ready to give us what we want?"

His soul.

Father Phil stood in momentary silence as images of unquenchable fire flashed before his mind. Then he remembered the object of his desire, and all thought of Judgment dropped away.

"I'll do it," the priest said hoarsely. "But not yet. I want to see it. I won't trust you until I have proof."

The demon looked hurt, but he vanished in a streak of light and a blast of rushing air, reappearing moments later with a steaming platter in his front paws.

"Thank God," Father Phil breathed, resisting the urge to lunge outside the circle. "You have no idea how impossible it is to get a decent toaster pastry out here."

"Then sign the contact," said the demon, "and you will have all the toaster pastries you desire. But know that your soul will be ours when your body dies."

"On the other hand, my body should last a lot longer will all those preservatives in it, huh?" the priest said, taking out a pen.

"I'm not sure it works that way," said the demon.

"STOP!" cried a shrill voice.

Father Phil slowly turned to see four men standing behind him, clothed in the white habits of the Michaeline Order.**

The missionary glanced at the magic circle, the demon, and the sacrificed native, then back at the Michaelines. "Uh, this isn't what it looks like."

"You call yourself a priest," said Abbot Edwin, "yet you have commerce with demons and spill the blood of the innocent!"

"They … never said I couldn't do that."

Father Phil had heard much about Abbot Edwin and his new Order. The Pope tolerated the Michaelines out of necessity, but had always felt that they were a bit excessively pro-Catholic. Many worried that Abbot Edwin's religious zeal was unhealthy. However, the tiny psychiatrist inside the Abbot's big toe told him otherwise, and he preferred to trust the experts.

As the monks advanced, the priest stepped backward, over the circle—and into the arms of the demon, who no longer resembled a kitten.

"You will not thwart us, Edwin!" the demon shrieked. "This priest's soul is ours!"

Snarling, the demon hurled Father Phil to the ground and turned to the monks. Cords of midnight shot from the demon's body and entwined themselves around the Abbot.

Abbot Edwin gritted his teeth. Things were not going according to plan. On a positive note, this meant that he was on familiar ground.

"Tell me your name, unclean spirit!" he cried, as the demon lifted him into the air.

"Saraqujal," the demon hissed through one of his beak-like mouths.

"Well then, Saraqujal, I command you in the Name of Jesus Christ—leave this sinner to us!"

The demon let out a shriek. The Abbot fell to the ground as the demon's body began to thin and fade like smoke.

"Brother Eligius!" cried Abbot Edwin. "The Device!"

One of the other monks leapt forward. The demon snapped back into focus—but no longer as the writhing monstrosity that had menaced them. A dazed and naked female figure now lay at the crossroads.

The Abbot glowered at the girl, who yelped in fright and desperately tried to drag herself away from the monks. "Is this another one of your strategies, demon?" he snarled.

"What, you mean screaming and crawling away?" said Brother Eligius.

Brother Juniper gasped. "She's using our own strategies against us! You're right, Father; we do have a spy in the Abbey!"

"Shut up, Juniper," the Abbot snapped, turning to Brother Eligius. "Don't you see? The demon has taken the form of a woman. She was trying to distract you, no doubt. Just look at her shameless nakedness," he said to Brother Eligius, who had apparently anticipated the order and was diligently obeying it.

After handcuffing Father Phil, Brother Eligius pointed a formal receptor at the trembling demon. "It looks like the Device has condensed the demon's body."

Abbot Edwin grabbed the demon by the wrist. "The Lord seems to have given us a rare opportunity here. Brother Eligius, get the dungeon ready after Vespers."*** The Abbot grinned excitedly. "We're finally going to have our first interrogation!"

* In Latin, this means The Book of Solomon's Secrets. In ancient and medieval Jewish, Christian, and Muslim tradition, the biblical king Solomon was known as a magician and controller of demons. (According to Jewish legend, he used demons to build the Jerusalem Temple.) During the late Middle Ages and Renaissance, a number of magic how-to books, some attributed to Solomon, circulated in the West.

** The Order of Saint Michael is a fictitious Catholic religious order based on the military orders of the Middle Ages. The military orders were groups of knights that imitated monks by taking religious vows. Examples include the Knights Templar and the Hospitallers, who were involved in the Crusades. The Michaelines in my story, despite being a military group, are going to be a bit more like ordinary monks than the military orders really were.

*** Vespers is one of the "offices" in the Liturgy of the Hours, a cycle of daily prayer practiced by Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Anglican monks, nuns, and clergy. (Except that, in this story, there are no Anglicans, because the Protestant Reformation never happened. More on that later.)