The demons were camped in a little hollow between the great marble sarcophagus of Romulus and the more recent tomb of Pompey. They were in a small grove surrounded by a circle of ilex trees. Although they had been there no more than a few hours, the area already showed the signs of chaos and squalor which characterize demon gatherings. Huge vats of ichor had been brought in for refreshment. There were fires here and there, and kitchen familiars roasted people-parts of many dif­ferent nations over hot charcoal.

Azzie was soon made welcome by the other demons. "Light meat or dark?" a succubus asked him. But Azzie had no time to eat, delicious though the young humans appeared to be, all golden brown from the spit.

"Where's the game?" he asked.

"Right over there," the succubus told him. She was an Indian demon, as Azzie could tell by the ring in her nose and the fact that her feet were turned backward. She smiled at him seductively. She was indeed beautiful, but Azzie had no time for dalliance right now, nor the appetite, because gambling fever was raging in his veins, and he hastened toward the circle.

The card-playing demons were gathered in a circle lit by balefires and tallow candles made of unsavory waxy substances. There was also an outer circle of demons, gathered to watch and comment on the action. As Azzie came to the circle a big hand was in progress. In the pot were a scattering of gold coins, some silver denarii, and a human torso, worth plenty since blood was still dripping from the stumps of its arms and legs. The final bet was made, and a small, potbellied demon with skinny arms and legs and a great long nose (a Laplander, to judge from his reindeer sweater) won it and raked it all in.

"New player!" someone called out, and they slid over and made room for Azzie.

Azzie sat down, laid out his jewels in front of him, and was given cards.