" You' re a demon," she accused. " They' ve trapped you inside for a reason."
" A reason, yes," came the baleful reply. " They misuse me so! I simply cannot stand another instant of this durance vile. I' ll go insane, quite insane, I tell you."
Inyx peered into a small port drilled through the door. Less than an inch away, peering back at her, was a large bloodshot eye with catlike slitted pupils. She straightened, then peeked back inside. The demon had moved away, allowing a clearer view. The magically trapped creature hunkered down on scaly haunches. She estimated its total size to be less than six inches from the spiked tip of its pointy head to the taloned claws on its lizard feet. A forked tongue slithered out, only to sneak back between black lips. Tiny hands gestured frantically.
" Help me escape. They are so cruel to me."
Inyx had some experience with such creatures in her wanderings along the Cenotaph Road and knew better than to believe anything the demon said. Once released, this tiny, insignificant demon might sprout to a hundred times its current size. Without knowing the nature of the spell binding it inside, she dared not meddle.
" Why do they imprison you?"
" To do their bidding."
" Which is?"
" Operate this craft, of course. Isn' t that simply dreadful? They abuse and overwork me. I mean, it' s worse than shovelling shit in the fiery pit, don' t you agree?"
" What do you do?"
" They make me spin this." One of the ineffectual hands reached out and touched a vertical shaft fitted with ribbed vanes. " It' s hard work for one my size."
" You must be very powerful," she said, still not understanding what the demon actually did.
" Very. I' ve been trapped here, against my will, mind you, for almost forty years. And all so they can have their fun. It' s enough to drive me over the edge, it really is."
" Show me what you do. Maybe I can think of something to aid you."
" You will? You' ll help me get away from them? They are ever so mean, you know."
Inyx watched through the tiny port as the demon began spinning the shaft. Slowly at first, it turned the shaft. Huffing and puffing noxious fumes, it worked the shaft faster and faster. A whining sound filled the air. Startled, Inyx looked up. Four metal blades had unfurled from the rotor protruding from the top of the hull. They snapped out longer than two of her strides and began spinning. The tiny wind whipping at her dark hair grew into a tornado.
" Get in. I' ll take you away from here. Then you can release me," said the demon. " I hear them returning. I just know I' m not making a mistake trusting you. You look like such a dear, sweet person. You won' t fail me, will you?"
" Get in?" asked Inyx. " But:" the sound of the soldiers tramping through the dry underbrush finally reached her less sensitive ears. The demon had given her ample warning to run. With the forest- lore shown already by the soldiers, she' d have no trouble eluding them, perhaps succeeding in reducing their rank in the process.
But the lure of curiosity egged her on to do something foolish. She jumped into the cramped front compartment and slammed shut the transparent door.
" The stick. Take the stick and put it between your legs, dear lady." The demon tittered as it spoke.
Glaring, Inyx did as she was told. Immediately, the craft lifted. She screamed at the sensation of rising so precipitously. Clutching frantically at the stick with both hands, she pulled it toward her in a naive attempt to correct what she saw as a problem. The craft lurched and the nose turned up to face the grey light of dawn.
" Down!" screamed the demon from behind her. " Keep the damned nose level!"
Inyx controlled her fear to obey. The demon' s advice proved just the thing to quiet her fear. As long as she maintained a relative equilibrium, the craft didn' t flutter up and down like a butterfly or swing from side to side.
" They don' t have many like this one left," the demon said proudly. " All the sorcerers have left Dicca. Can' t stand that scum, our dear, elected Lord of the Twistings."
" Lord of the Twistings?"
" You aren' t from around here, are you, sweetie?" asked the demon. Its tone changed slightly. Inyx tensed.
" What difference does that make? I' m still your best bet for freedom."
" True. But where are you from? Not that dreary island of Sala Tria. I had to fly out there once. Some bigshot convention of leaders. The Lord of the Twistings was positively rude to so many of them. Why they took it from that wimp, I' ll never know. Just because he can:"
" Can what?"
" Never mind that."
" Take me to Dicca," Inyx commanded. " Then I' ll see about getting you out of that compartment."
" Dicca? You really want to go to Dicca?"
" Why not? Anything wrong with going there?"
" No, no," the demon said hastily. " It' s one of my all- time forever favorite spots." Inyx wondered what was wrong with the city, if Dicca actually was a city.
" Because that' s where the sorcerers imprisoned you?"
" That was a long time ago. This isn' t my first fluttercraft assignment. I' ve worn out a couple." Inyx peered into a small hole directly above her right shoulder. She got another view of the demon dutifully twisting the rotor that kept the blades spinning outside at a speed fast enough to force air down and keep the craft aloft. Tiny bands of steel muscle stood out on the demon' s forearms and shoulders. The immense strength shown convinced her against ever letting it free. Such power turned easily.
" Tell me about Dicca. Why have all the sorcerers left it?"
" Those smelly grey- clad soldiers, why else do you think? They barge in and take over. Some sorcerer with more balls than any of those around Dicca is backing them, you can count on it. He' s got all the local talent scared so much they pee pink."
" Claybore?"
" Might be. Haven' t heard that name. I know that it was Nnamdilo who locked me up for the first time. When I get out of this chamberpot, I' m going to-"
" Keep up speed," ordered Inyx. The demon' s momentary lapse into describing what it would do to its jailer had permitted a slackening in airspeed. She felt the fluttercraft hesitate slightly and begin to lose altitude. They were only a few feet over the tallest of the trees. Any lower spelled a nasty collision with the upper branches.
Experimenting, Inyx pulled back on the stick. The craft nosed up. She levelled out at a safer altitude.
" You handle this like you were born to it," said the demon. " You' re not lying to me, are you, sweetie? You will let me go when we reach Dicca?"
" Why shouldn' t I?"
" You might be one of them. All they do is lie. Promises mean nothing, I can tell you."
" Dicca and freedom," Inyx said firmly.
" Freedom!" screamed the demon. The fluttercraft' s speed picked up even more. Inyx watched the creature bend its diminutive back to the task of spinning the shaft. The whomp- whomp- whomp of the blades above gave her a headache, but she had to admit this mode of travel was far superior to walking. Even better, she left Claybore' s soldiers far behind.
" What a majestic city!" she exclaimed. The demon gave her an aerial tour of Dicca. They circumnavigated the boundaries, then worked inward in an ever- decreasing spiral. They passed over all but the palace in the center of the city.
" Nice, if you like:" The demon stopped in mid- sentence.
" Like what?"
" Like all those people," it finished lamely. Inyx wasn' t fooled for a moment. The demon had started to say something else and had held back. They were sneaky beasts, but no more so than many humans she' d found in her walkings along the Road.
" Land me in a good place," she said, wondering where that might be. The city streets were often narrow and twisting. Maybe that lack of forethought on the city designer' s part gave the title to the king or mayor or whatever function the Lord of the Twistings fulfilled.