Raphael Read Online Free PDF Page B

how it can manage, looking like that!”
    The raspberry-shaped and raspberry-colored demon did not particularly like being laughed at, but he found some comfort in the knowledge that this stranger had immediate sympathy with his biggest problem in life. His Magnificence (who had had a clear hand in the molding of Kadjebeen) had never deigned to express any interest in his servant’s consequent plight.
    Still Saara spun, coming back around to face the Devil’s perfect features and exposed fangs.
    â€œSo you noticed little Kadjebeen, did you?” Lucifer snickered, enjoying his captive’s dizzying movement. “How would you like to be turned into another like him?”
    But Saara had spent too much time as a bird to be made motion sick. “You can’t,” she replied casually. “I am not afraid of hunger, so you have no power over my belly or mouth, and I am not afraid of YOU, so you cannot make me shrink like that against the ground. And as for his eyes—well, they must bug out from fear, as well, for he can have no great desire to be able to look back at that face of his!”
    â€œEnough elementary lessons in transmigration,” Lucifer growled. He blew Saara into a faster spin.
    â€œThere is, after all, a reason I have brought you here.”
    â€œYOU brought ME?” The spin added a peculiar tremolo to Saara’s words. “A moment ago you said I came in spite of you.”
    â€œSome of each,” replied the Devil equably, and losing interest, he dropped the whirling woman to the tabletop. “It is of no account by which way you came. Nor does it really matter that you’re not Gaspare of San Gabriele. What matters is that you are a good enough bait to draw my brother Raphael to me.”
    Saara had landed on her feet, still holding the length of red twine in her hands. She stared blankly at the huge carmine face above her. “Raphael? You mean the Chief of Eagles? You mean the music teacher?”
    Lucifer’s amusement spread all over his face. “We certainly have the same party in mind, little witch. Raphael the many-feathered warbler, who happens to be my disgusting lesser brother.”
    The naked woman rolled a coil of twine and sat herself down upon it. She examined Lucifer appraisingly. “They say the eagle is kin to the bald-headed vulture—who also has a very red face, like yours.”
    In an instant’s ungovernable fury Lucifer spat at Saara: spat an incendiary spittle which exploded around her like Greek fire. She barely had time to roll herself into a ball before the flash was around her. To the stuffiness of the air was added the stench of burnt hair.
    Saara uncoiled, slightly pinker than she had been and missing most of her braids. Her heart was pounding and she could feel the blood rushing into her face and even through her ears.
    But none of this was fear. Instead she felt a mad exhaltation, as it seemed her long life had at last come to some point.
    â€œYou picked a bad bait to use, if you want to attract the Chief of Eagles,” she said casually, examining a slightly charred fingernail. “We haven’t gotten along very well.”
    â€œI wonder who you HAVE gotten along with, you tusked sow!” growled the Devil, but he was unable to hide the fact that this information displeased him. He drummed enormous fingers on the tabletop (his rhythm was off).
    â€œThat hardly matters,” he said at last. “Raphael is the sort who would not let a small thing like justly despising you stand in the way of self-sacrifice. He is quite perverse that way, my brother. In fact, a mortal he dislikes may be the better for my purpose.” Then Lucifer yawned.
    â€œLikely ANY mortal would have done.”
    Boredom recalled Lucifer to his own intention. “Why do I sit here communing with this bit of insignificant spleen?” he murmured. “I need only raise my voice now, and…”
    Suddenly the