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Wait! I’m coming, good brother!’ Searle sought to cross, yet straightway came a long, shrill squeal and a demon slithered to a stop, and smoke curled at its feet, and it growled, and began slowly to advance, bellowing. Searle rushed at it, and sank his pick into its head, which had no flesh but was a skull of iron.

Then it jumped forward and bowled Searle head over heels, and when he looked up Connor’s restraining hand was upon him.