When I finally made it to the clearing, I found that Izak and Snell had left me a note. It consisted of two other words: "Pizza Hovel".
Rats, I thought. I've just come that way. They must have come past while I was in SAIA. Or perhaps they teleported.
'Pizza Hovel' was a marvel of architecture. The designers had taken every care to create the impression, both inside and out, of a massive, decrepit shed. In reality the panels of rotting wood were made of enchanted fibreglass, the green algae painted on in breathtaking detail. The kitchens and toilets were
immaculate, betraying the reason that they hadn't simply made the whole thing out of scrap wood in the first place - they'd never have complied with the health and safety regulations.
Entering the establishment, I quickly spotted Izak and a black feline - sans wings, obviously - so I ordered a Pepperoni Perversion and sat down with them. The Nagra SNN in my pocket started running in case Snell said anything cool... if need be I could come back later and film some blurry stock footage of the pizza place to use with it.
"This isn't my base form, for obvious reasons," he said, with a sly grin.
"Indeed," I acknowledged. "But have no fear on that count. This is a documentary, not a trap. But anyway... what is it that you do?" I asked. "What makes you an outlaw?"
"Housebreaking," he replied. "There's no-one better, if I may say so myself."
"Excellent," I said, grinning with delight at the filming possibilities.
"I would like a demonstration, if that's alright, on camera. I can blur out your face if you wish, or you can rely on your own disguises. As I said, I'm looking for some interesting footage, not an arrest."
I had recently acquired an Ampex digital video processor and I was still exploring the possibilities it offered. Show off, thought Izak, letting his guard down for a moment. I was about to admonish him when my pizza arrived, distracting me. Alas, the curse of an incubus attention span.
"Have you anyone in mind?" he asked. "As a target, I mean?"
"No. You can just pick a house at random. Or several, come to that... an easy one and a hard one, for example. I have only two provisos. Firstly, we are not going to kill anyone..."
"Right," he said instantly.
"...secondly, we are not going to steal anything. I just want a study of your techniques." He looked mortified.
"I can make it worth your while," I added hastily. "I have a big budget. Fa'Lina is considering some kind of 'lockpicking and security techniques' module at the Academy, and if the film attracts interest, we might want to hire you as a guest lecturer too..."
"Deal," he replied. "Meet me at the k-"
Snell's reply was cut short by a tremendous crash and the sound of an explosion from outside. "DEMONS!" shrieked a voice from the streets. I ran to the window and looked outside. Magic flew through the air, shattering windows, maiming, killing. "Oh my gods," I sobbed. "Why does everything have to go to pot today?"
"Protect the bakery!" shouted Snell, in a panic-stricken voice. A cloud of black feathers erupted from his back and his head.
"What about protecting the town?" snarled Izak, as he and I broke disguise as well.
"No!" shrieked Snell, "The bakery first! They make the most amazing maple and pecan pie-"
"Protect here," I snapped. "Unless there are more 'Cubi living here in secret, there are three of us. Three incubi alone cannot defend an entire town! You two stay in the Hovel and try to organise... I'll take care of the baker."
The baker's apprentice was alone once again, until I burst through the door in full incubus form. "Was something wrong with the pasties?" he gabbled, before noticing my expression - grim and purposeful. He promptly freaked out again and began waving a large knife at me.
"Put that down, you fool!" I snarled. "No! Better still, hang onto it. The town is under attack! Where's the baker?"
"Ho, ho, ho!" said a deep voice from the kitchens. My wings fluffed out as I saw a blur of motion, improbably fast for such a large person. I threw myself to the floor as a large rolling pin sailed through the doorway, smashing the window behind me. A fireball quickly followed it, igniting the cakes.
"Demon!" I shrieked. It seemed I was too late. They had already topped the baker, but if I was quick I might still be able to save his apprentice. Again. Fortunately I had demon blood in me as well, so I sprang up. My reflexes were nowhere near as good as a pureblood demon, but they gave me an edge over any Being.
I cast a fireball back at my foe, tentacles extending improbably. I morphed them into a fist and bashed him in the head several times. Only when they lay in a stupor did I realise that my enemy was actually the baker.
"Why do I get all the mental cases?" I screamed, and pointed at the apprentice. "You! Bring that fat loony's medication and help me take him with us. We have to go! NOW! Or we will all die!"
It took all our strength to carry him to the Hovel. We had to drag him some of the way, trusting that his demon hide wouldn't be too badly bruised. Above all, we had to move fast, dodging bolts of magic. I set up a deflection shield, but there was no way we could have survived a direct assault.
At the Hovel, they had barricaded the door. I made frantic gestures through the window until Izak saw me and rushed to open it. The demons were closing in fast but we just about managed to drag the demon baker indoors.
"I'll kill you!" yelled one of the the demons as I slammed the door in his face.
"I've got a better idea!" I said brightly, through the letter-flap. "Why don't I kill you?"
His rage battered my mind shield. "You should see a counsellor," I retorted. "Your blood-pressure must be sky-high by now!"
He tried to break the door down. Remarkably, it held fast. Well that's new, I thought, and for a moment I found myself reminded of the cubs's tale about the three little wolves.
"Page Simeon," someone said, breaking me out of my reverie. "We're going need all the help we can get."
The Burning Feather? I pondered with amazement.
"Simeon isn't responding," replied a doberman. He was carrying a small radio. The doberman cut a burly figure in light armour, and he radiated command. It was pretty obvious he was the leader of their cell.
The doberman's tail was docked and his ears were cropped. I had never really understood the ear-cropping thing. Traditionally it had to be done to puppies to make the ears stand up, but this was illegal nowadays unless there was a clear medical need. There were no laws against cosmetic surgery for a consenting adult though, and some of the more tough-guy sorts would have their ears altered magically. In some circles it was a bit like getting a tattoo.
"What do you mean, he's not responding?" the other guy snapped.
"I mean he ain't f---in' responding," the doberman snarled. "Little sent him to take down some big grey wolf incubus prowling the forest..."
"Oh, him?" I said loudly, "he won't be returning," The doberman spun round to see a tall grey wolf incubus in a black trenchcoat smiling that smile. He took a step back and drew his sword.
"You!" he snarled. "So you got him? May the gods rest his... soul..." he faltered, suddenly realising that Simeon might not have a soul anymore.
"He was a good marksman and you'll pay for his death!"
"He was a good marksman all right. He was also an incubus," I said. The doberman froze and I knocked his sword to the floor.
"You didn't know? Nor did he until about two hours ago. Somehow he kind of lost heart when he realised that you'd been sending him to kill his brethren, so I sent him away for a little re-education. He'll be back in a few centuries. It's probably for the best since he was very distraught and might well have turned on you."
"You lie!" snapped the dog, but he made no move for the sword.
"It's true," I said. "I thought you might like to know that he's safe, even if he won't be returning to your little anti-wing group. Now. I don't like you, and you evidently despise me. But needs must so we will have to work together on this."
"What do you propose?" he asked, guardedly.
"First, how many of you are here?" I asked.
"Most of us," he replied evasively. "This is our headquarters."
"Oho," I said. "So the pizza place is just a front? Well, that explains why they can't get through the door, at any rate."
"Well done," he said. "It's magically armoured. As are the walls."
"I wouldn't place too much faith in spells," I pointed out. "They can probably be neutralised. Let's just hope they don't know too much of that kind of magic."
"You think they could?" his ears drooped.
"I'm sure I could if I wanted to, but I'm not about to try right now. We're in this mess together, remember. Now, one thing we need to know is how many of us are Creatures."
"We're all Beings," he snapped. "This is a Being town."
"Right," I said sarcastically. "Like Simeon, you mean?"
"He was an exception."
"And the baker was too?"
"What the hell are you talking ab..." he snarled, his voice trailing away and his expression changing to one of fear when I removed the baker's ring. As I did so, his wings popped out. They were feathered... uncommon for a demon, but not unheard of either. Most likely there was some angel blood in him as well.
"I think we could do with a few more exceptions," I said. "Now. Tell me again why you chose a pizza restaurant for your HQ? And how did you manage to build a hideout into a franchise?"
"Their founder is bankrolling us," he said with a sneer. "Most Creatures don't eat, so it's in his interest to keep Being towns Creature-free. Gives him more potential customers. A restaurant is the perfect place, since only Beings are ever going to visit it..." he trailed off as I began laughing.
"Well, it's obvious you're a Being," I chuckled. "The most magical Creatures don't need to eat, but most of them do, for pleasure if not as part of their disguise. The one place Creatures are most likely to visit if they're randomly passing through is the local place of food."
His eyes had a haunted look.
"Don't worry," I said. "You've been perfectly fine until today, haven't you? And once we've sorted these bastards out, things will return to normal again. Now. We're going to need to round up all the Creatures we can find. We've got your crazy baker, myself, Izak and..." I glanced around. Snell was gone.
"IZAK!" I yelled. "Where the heck is Snell?"
There was a frantic pounding on the door. I ran to the window and looked out. Snell, the outlaw incubus, had rounded up all the Beings he could find and was trying to herd them into the Hovel. Izak rushed to open the door for him, but the demons were in hot pursuit. There was a rush of bodies as the door opened, and Snell was holding it open in an uncharacteristically random act of kindness. As the last of the refugees entered, he dove for the door himself only to be caught by a fireball.
He crumpled and lay still.