A Daemonstration of Power

"You promise the you will not hurt us?"

"Yes. I shall need your flamethrower."

Flucky involutary dropped the flamethrower. It had suddenly become hot, and he could not hold it. The daemon deftly picked the flamethrower up, and pointed it at Chucky.

"I think that it would be better for you if you placed that half-burnt book on the floor, and step away."

"I cannot let you destroy this!"

"Trust me," replied the daemon.

Chucky placed the precious book on the ground and followed his directions. The daemon turned the flamethrower toward the book, and a nozzle of flame blasted out. Chucky's heart sank, as the flames lapped at the tome. He could smell the acrid odour of paper burning, and see a flash of light. Everything he had worked for was becoming a pile of ash. He was so close, and now this daemon had destroyed his book.

"There you go, my good gnome. Fresh as the day it was printed. It is one of my favourite tricks."

Chucky thumbed through the book in amazement. The book was not complete - the parts that were now ash on the floor of the library were still gone, but the material that had not fallen out, even those parts that were unreadable, had been restored, notes and all. The front cover even smelled like newly tanned leather, and the pages were supple and flexible, not browned and brittle. On some pages there were holes, and on others it appeared that someone had cut the page with a scissors - the missing parts lay as ash in the library. Chucky looked at the daemon, wide-eyed, and asked "Are you going to let me keep it?"

1. "Yes", said the daemon. "These are also part of Maxwell's orders."
2. "No," said the dameon. "Maxwell's orders."
3. "We shall discuss this later," said the daemon. "There are a Benchley and Wormley arriving. [20052] I have orders to keep them out."

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