“Well, hello there!”
Mathilde jumped a little. Behind the counter was an old man with a checked shirt and large, round glasses. His face became a pile of wrinkles when he smiled. “Are you here for a new demon?”
“No,” Mathilde said.
“Yes.” Nana smiled. “It’s her birthday.”
“Oh.” The old man gave that too-long nod that grown-ups gave when they thought they knew something but really didn’t. “I see! Is this your first demon, miss?”
“… Yes.” Mathilde looked at her shoes.
“Then this is a special occasion! What sort of demon were you looking for?”
Mathilde looked back at him. “I want the kind with the pretty eyes and the long, shiny mane!”
Nana sighed. “That’s a pony, dear.”
“Well, that’s what I want!”
Nana gave Mathilde a sharp look, but the old man just laughed.
“Oh, I think I have just the one for you.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small glass cage.
The demon inside didn’t have a long, shiny mane. It didn’t have any hair at all, at least not that Mathilde could see. All she saw was a tiny, black, hooded robe that hovered above the bottom of its cage on a billowing cloud of inky blackness. Its eyes were two red stars that twinkled in the darkness of its hood like distant Christmas lights.
I guess that’s kind of pretty, Mathilde thought.
Nana said, “Oh! What type of demon is that?”
“He’s a Miniature Dark Lord,” the old man said.
Nana clucked her tongue. “A Dark Lord? I thought they had great big horns!”
“Normally they do.” The shopkeeper shook his head. “But this poor little guy was born without any. All the other Dark Lords rejected him. Even his own mother didn’t want to take care of him! Can you imagine that?”
Mathilde could imagine it. She didn’t want to take care of him either. But … “What’s his name?”
The old man smiled behind his big round glasses. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Mathilde peered through the glass cage. She looked at the Dark Lord’s tiny clawed fingers, at his dark billowing cloud.
Mathilde thought about her pony. “Hello,” she said. “What’s your name?”
I AM IX’THOR, MASTER OF THE VENOMOUS PITS OF KARTHOOM! The creature raised his arms over his head. He had a voice like the truck that picked up their garbage in the morning, only smaller. BOW BEFORE YOUR MASTER, SMALL ONE!
“How about that!” The old man raised his fuzzy white eyebrows. “He told you his name first thing! He must really like you.”
“Well, I don’t like him…” Mathilde crossed her arms. Ix’thor lowered his arms and hung his head a little. “… But I guess he’ll do.”
* * *
IX’THOR … HUNGERS. The Dark Lord’s voice rumbled from within his cardboard box.
“Dad!” Mathilde put her hands on her hips. “Hurry up! He’s getting hungry!”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Father said. He was kneeling on the floor of Mathilde’s bedroom, carefully hanging the curtains on the big glass cage. “You have to be firm with demons, you know. Give in and they’ll walk all over you.”
IX’THOR DEMANDS SACRIFICE!
“No!” Mathilde tapped her finger on the box. “Be good.”
“All right.” Father stood up and stretched his back with a soft pop, then turned down the light. “You can put him in now.”
Mathilde placed the cardboard box in the cage and pried the lid off. Ix’thor wafted out, his black mist coiling around the bottom of his robe. He floated back and forth a few times, exploring his new cage.
“Here,” Father said. “See the little altar down there? Put one of these on it.” He handed her a small, softly glowing ball, about the size of a pea, from the big plastic bag Nana had bought. The bag said things like “Nutritionally Balanced” and “Now with extra innocence for a healthy glow!”
At the sight of the red pellet Ix’thor raced over to the altar and stood on top of it, his arms outstretched.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Father said. “He has to take it from the altar. Make him wait for it.”
“Shoo!” Mathilde waved her hand toward the demon. “Back up. Back up! He won’t move!”
“Use the flashlight,” Father said. Mathilde picked up the little light that came with the My First Demon book and shined it on the altar. Ix’thor went scurrying off into the shadow of his box.
Mathilde put the pellet on one of the divots in the flat stone and turned off the light. After a few seconds, Ix’thor came out of his box and drifted over to the altar. He leaned over, as if to peer at the pellet, then snatched it up with both hands.
IX’THOR ACCEPTS YOUR SACRIFICE. The Dark Lord bowed his head over the pellet and devoured it. NUM. NUM. NUM.
“Wow,” Father said. “I guess he really was hungry.”
Mathilde glared at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks puffed out. “See!”
* * *
Mathilde had a hard time sleeping that night. She was excited about her birthday party, but her thoughts kept drifting toward the pony she would have someday. What color would he be? What would she call him? She knew her pony would be gentle and tame, not pushy like Ix’thor.
How long would she have to take care of a stupid demon, anyway?
When she did fall asleep, she dreamed of ponies with glowing red eyes.
Mathilde woke up to something poking her in the chin. “Mnm.” Mathilde swatted it away.
A moment later it happened again. She opened her eyes to see two red, twinkling stars and dark, clawed hands hovering over her face.
KNEEL BEFORE YOUR MASTER, MORTAL!
“Aaaaaah! Mom!”
Mother came to the door with Father and Nana close behind. When Mother flicked on the light there was a grinding squeal from Ix’thor and the little Dark Lord scurried under her dresser.
“Turn that light off!” Nana said. “Or he’ll never come out.”
Father ran into the room and stumbled around in the sudden dark. “Where did he go?”
“How did he get out of his cage?” Mother asked.
“I see him!” Father lurched to the corner, but when he bent down he banged his head on Mathilde’s dresser. “Ow!”
Mathilde saw a black
