The Angel dragged the pair towards him.
He was starting to spin, and they spun as he did. Around and around they went, creating yet another vortex. Faster and faster they revolved, the light and sound ever increasing.
While Nutter and Devizes cowered miserably on the floor, quaking, with their hands clasped tightly over their misshapen heads, Ruby stood with her arms high, deeply focused on her own incantations and protective rituals.
The screams of Ahriman now melded with the voices of the celestial chorus and the ugly thrumming and drumming noises of before were beaten out to a universal, idyllic rhythm. The heartbeat of the universe.
The chants of the Beni Elohim Choir of Angels rose higher in their harmony. Who could, or would wish to, resist them?
More spin, more voice, more spin, more voice. Faster and faster, brighter and brighter.
Ahriman’s wailings could no longer be heard; just the perfect sound of purity and cleanliness, of divine light and right.
All the noises mercurially melding into One; all the light sources melting into One; light and sound becoming One. Reveren Phullaposi chimed into the choir with his own offering of prayer.
“Saint Michael, the Archangel, Defend us in our battle. Be the protection against the evil and trappings of the Devil. May The Almighty, rebuke and cast him away. And thou, most heavenly Prince of the Host, by the divine power of the Almighty, cast him back into the Hell pit, cast him and all his evil spirits, who now roam the earth seeking the ruination of the mortal soul. Amen.”
One Sound, One Light, One Source; faster and faster, cleaner, and cleaner, purer and purer –
Until...
CRASH!
One almighty peal of thunder.
And then a sound like the last second of a recording in reverse.
Fup! Gone!
Silence. Utter Silence.
So silent you could hear it. So silent that it hurt your ears.
Darkness. Total Darkness.
So dark that you have no idea where you are, where you were, or even which way up you might be.
And for what seemed like hours, this is how things stayed.
Until, finally the spell was broken.
There was a sudden muffled bang and then a spatter or a crackle some small distance away, obviously not within the privy.
Then Ruby heard voices. Quite a few voices, and not at all like those of the celestial variety. These were plainly human.
“Ooooo! Aaaaah! Eeeeehh!”
These weren’t frightened cries, but cries of innocent wonderment.
Ruby shook her head to clear the cobwebs, groped around and found her athame. She tapped it on the wall and it dutifully obliged by glowing a little, dimly. Its powers had been severely tested.
As the blade regained some of its former potency, Ruby’s surroundings gradually became apparent. She looked around her, thoughtfully.
Tobias was sputtering and choking, as he clambered out of the cistern where he had thought it best to hide. (As he remarked later. “Cats may not be overly fond of water, but it’s infinitely better than having your cat-flap toasted by a demented demon on a power trip!”)
Magpie Jack was recovering his dazed wits on the floor, whilst absently whistling a song about little pixies (bangs on the head tend to do these things to you). Pearl was sitting against a wall rubbing a bruised shoulder from when she had fallen awkwardly when she passed out during the fracas. Reverend Phullaposi was moaning faintly. He was kneeling on the floor, with his head down the lavatory bowl in a most undignified manner.
Well, she was still in the privy, so that would suggest that she was still in Widdowshins.
Devizes and Nutter, however, were nowhere to be seen.
Dave was also noticeably absent.
Ruby noticed the distinct aroma of ozone, sandalwood and lavender hanging in the air. Not unpleasant, but unexpected all the same. The celestial thunderclap of righteousness might from the angels must have cleared air.
There were more audible crackles and collective ‘Oooos!’ coming through the thick stonework of the privy. And there was another scent. Was that... gunpowder? Cordite?
Ruby dragged herself to the door and opened it. The heady, sweet, late summer air greeted her. She looked up, and saw a normal, beautiful, dark blue starry Spring night sky. She also saw that the village fête firework display was in full swing; everybody was thoroughly enjoying themselves and nothing was even remotely out of place. Everything was exactly as it should be.
While Ruby was making sense of the scene in front of her, Reverend Phullaposi came unsteadily over to her side.
“What happened? Have they gone? Is it over? Did we win?”
His mind was still foggy, but not so foggy as he didn’t grasp the gravity of his questions.
“They’ve gone,” nodded Ruby, “But for how long? Who knows?”
The Reverend leaned against the door-jamb, still nursing his sore head. He breathed in, greedily, enjoying the sweetness of the night air.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby suddenly registered something odd. In the very spot where Devizes and Nutter had been so busy panicking and cowering, there were now two small horse chestnuts and two small pieces of parchment. She glanced around quickly to see if anybody else had noticed, then, satisfied that no-one had, scooped them up and put them in her little drawstring bag.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” she thought to herself. She would inspect her discovery later, and deal with it accordingly.
**********
At that very moment, in a badly-constructed yurt in a muddy field in Glastonbury, Bethany Devizes awoke with a start. Her head was splitting, her stomach spasming, and her body shaking all over. Her initial thought was that she really shouldn't have eaten any of that lentil vindaloo they were selling at the food stall close by. But then she recognised the sensation for what it actually was: a psychic distress call of a most urgent nature.
“Ohhh, Motherrrr! What have you done THIS time?!” she groaned to herself.
Reluctantly, she began to pack her rucksack for home...
**********
The Reverend and Ruby went to
