( Aces ) Benjamin stared at the pew back in front of him, searching for imaginary faces in the wood grain. As he'd feared, church was no fun at all anymore without Father Crombie. This morning's interminable sermon was about humility, which, as far as Ben could tell, meant you were supposed to be ashamed anytime you did something good-and to be more ashamed the better you did! How stupid was that? Joby's company was all that made coming to church tolerable now.

Around Joby, the world just seemed to get wider and better all the time. Benjamin would never have thought of something like the Roundtable in a million years! He liked the secret missions even better than the stories Joby told them about King Arthur and his knights, or the games they all played at their tournament field.

Three weeks ago, Denis Wong had brought his model stegosaurus skeleton to school for show and tell. He'd put it together himself-every bone-and was very proud of it. But Lisa Herman's sleeve had caught it just before lunch, and pulled it off his desk to smash in pieces on the floor. Denis had thrown it all in the garbage, and spent lunch in a bathroom stall, crying. But after school that day, Sir Bobby had gotten the pieces out of the wastebasket, then spent the evening with some of the other knights gluing it all back together. They'd snuck the model back onto Denis's desk before class the next morning along with the Roundtable's secret sign, a quarter-size disk of cardboard painted yellow with a red dragon drawn on it. That was how people knew the knights had done something, though no one would ever admit-outside their secret meetings, of course-exactly which knights had done it. Benjamin was sure nobody but Joby could ever have thought up such a cool idea.

Deanna Tepper's lost jacket had reappeared mysteriously on Monday after Sir Kyle found it out behind the playground fence, where someone had probably thrown it. On Thursday, after Lindy Jacomella fell off the jungle gym and put a tooth halfway through her bottom lip, a whole stack of chocolate bars had shown up on her desk wrapped in red ribbon, attached to another little red and yellow disk. Lots of new boys wanted to join the knights now, and even the teachers had begun to talk about it. The tests to get in had gotten harder, and a boy had to do one secret good deed on his own before he could be knighted, but new members still kept coming.

Lady Laura had told them how badly Tony Esquivel wanted to be a knight, but that he wouldn't say so because he knew the knights all had bicycles, and he was too poor to get one. Everyone liked Tony, and Sir Duane had gotten a new bike for his birthday, so he offered to donate his old one. They'd left the bike on Tony's porch one morning before anyone was awake, and four days later he'd passed the tests and been knighted by Joby out at the tournament field amid the cheers of his new sword-brothers.

Laura was the first girl Benjamin had ever really been friends with. He'd known she was different the minute she stuck up for Joby after the dodge-ball accident. She didn't do dumb girl things like playing horsies at lunch. She liked real adventures, and she sure got hurt as often as any boy, which he respected a lot. The supposed "secret" of her strange semi-membership in the Roundtable hadn't lasted even days, but, as she had predicted, it was the guys themselves who'd let it slip. Now, of course, other girls wanted to be damsels in distress too, but the knights had told them all that they had to break an arm or leg to qualify, and that had kept them away pretty good so far.

Noticing the sudden quiet, Ben realized that Father Richter's sermon was over at last, and, offering a silent prayer of thanks, stood with all the others to mouth the creed.

After church he and Joby raced to the car well ahead of Benjamin's parents, then stood panting for breath.

"Do you think what Father Richter said is right, Benjamin?" Joby asked.

"What!" Benjamin rolled his eyes. "You mean humility? Nobody feels bad for doing something good, Joby. That's crazy! Are you ashamed about the Roundtable?"

"No, but . . . what if the enemy wins 'cause I get too proud?" Joby looked away anxiously. "I'm not sure it's good that we got everybody making fun of Lindwald."

"Why not?" Benjamin protested. "He's a jerk! We s'posed to thank him? Father Crombie said to laugh at the devil, right? Well, that's what we're doin'!"

"Yeah, but Father Crombie also said to fight our enemies with kindness. Maybe Lindwald doesn't even want to work for the devil. Maybe he's like a slave or something."

"He wants to, all right! I never seen anybody who likes bein' mean so much."

"But Father Richter said-"

"I think you're on drugs, Joby!" Ben cut him off. The very idea that Joby might take any of Richter's nonsense about "humility" to heart made Benjamin furious. "And you know what? I think Father Richter's talks are dumb, and he's boring! I like the Roundtable! I like that Lindwald's getting what he deserves, Joby, and I'm not gonna listen to anyone who says I'm s'posed to feel bad about any of it!"

"That's not very respectful," Joby murmured, looking down uncomfortably. "Father Crombie said Father Richter was a mentor, and . . . and I'm not sure we oughtta be makin' fun of a priest when we're fighting . . . you know-the enemy. He uses our mistakes, remember? Even little ones. Merlin said so."

Hearing Joby sound so timid and girly made Benjamin's anger so fierce that he wasn't even sure anymore whether it was Richter or Joby himself he was angry at, and that scared him somehow.

"I'm your friend," Benjamin growled, as if saying it might protect him from the things he was feeling. "I'm your friend. That's all I'm gonna say."

"You boys ready to go?" Benjamin's parents had arrived at last.

Benjamin blew out a big breath of frustration, wishing they'd come sooner.

At recess the next morning, Lindwald sent Joby sprawling to the ground, and got sent to the principal's office for his trouble, while Joby was congratulated by Mrs. Nelson in front of the whole class for not letting Lindwald "get his goat," whatever that meant.

But at their meeting that afternoon, several knights complained that if Joby didn't put Lindwald in his place pretty soon, people would be laughing at the knights instead of at Lindwald. Laura insisted that Joby's refusal to fight was very grown-up, and a good example for the rest of them, which had done nothing to improve Joby's position. Having promised to take care of it, Joby had left the meeting wondering how.

"Just fight him, Joby," Benjamin said as they rode home together on their bikes. "That's the only way to make him stop for good."

"Don't you remember what happened last time I fought him? That's just what he wants. There must be some other way to get to him. What would stop you, Benjamin?"

"I don't know. . . . My mom and dad, I guess. They can make me do anything."

"That's it! Benjamin, you're a genius!"

"What?"

"His folks'll make him stop! I should have thought of that weeks ago!"

"You're gonna tattle to his folks?" Benjamin asked in dismay.

"I'm gonna beat him without falling for his trap," Joby said. "That's all. We gotta find out where he lives."

"Tony knows," Benjamin volunteered despondently. "I heard him tell Duane that Jamie lives one street over from him. . . . I still wish you'd just beat the crap out of him."

After school the next day, they got on their bikes and headed for the address Tony had given them. It was not a pretty neighborhood. The few trees on Jamie's street were small and sickly looking. Front yards were hemmed in by chain-link fence, and waist high in weeds, or carpeted in dead grass cropped so short that bare dirt showed through like bald spots on worn carpet. Driveways were cluttered with rusty, half-assembled hulks, as if some forgetful mechanic had wandered off years before in the middle of a major rebuild. The paint was dingy and peeling on all but a few of the houses, and there were bars over most of the windows.

Jamie's house was covered in ruined paint the color of old urine, and a woman sat on the porch, watching them come as if she'd been waiting. She was terribly thin, with stringy brown hair so greasy it looked wet. Her shapeless knee-length dress had been pink once, before someone had wiped a floor with it. She held a cigarette in front of her face, and smoke curled out of her half-open mouth, unstirred by any sign of breath. No one spoke. Her dark eyes were hard and flat, her closed face angry and sleepy all at once.

"Whadaya want?" she said at last, as if they were selling something distasteful.

"We're . . ." Joby stumbled. "My name's Joby. This is Benjamin."

She looked away and took a long drag on her cigarette.

"You're those little brats givin' my Jamie such a hard time at school, ain'tcha." She exhaled, then turned back to stare them down as if they were the worst kind of trash.

"Mrs. Lindwald-" Benjamin began.

"Spater!" she snapped. "Not Lindwald!" Then, more calmly, "I ain't the little bastard's mother. Just his stepmom."

"Mrs. Spater," Joby said. "If Jamie told you we're giving him a hard time, he's-"

"You callin' Jamie a liar?" she demanded, then leaned back and took another lungful of smoke, as if they'd gone away.

"Yes," Benjamin said, his fists clenched. "He's been callin' all of us names, and pushin' us around, doin' everything he can to make us fight. And Joby hasn't touched him the whole time."

"That what you call a broken nose?" the woman said without looking at them, or raising her voice. "I call that touchin' 'im pretty good."

"He made Joby do that!" Benjamin protested.

Her sneering smile revealed a line of crooked gray teeth. "Took your fist, and shoved it up his own nose, did he? You boys sound like the liars to me. You better get outta here," she drawled, " 'fore I call the law, and tell 'em to make you go."

"It's a public sidewalk!" Benjamin objected.

"Benjamin," Joby said quietly. "Forget it. This isn't going to work." He stood on his pedals, preparing to ride.

"But-"

The woman laughed to herself, and murmured, "You're every bit the little wimps he said you were."

There was a shuffling racket from inside the darkened doorway behind her. The patched screen lurched open, and Jamie stepped out looking startled and angry to see Joby and Benjamin. His stepmom looked at him with even less sympathy than she'd shown the other boys. "You'd best go back inside, Jamie."

"What're they-"

"Make yourself scarce, boy," she hissed.

Jamie grew visibly pale and vanished back into the darkness, the screen banging shut behind him.

The woman rose lazily, took one last pull on her cigarette before tossing it casually onto the porch. "I'm goin' inside to call the police. You'd better be outta here before I finish dialin', or I swear, you'll be callin' your folks up from downtown."

She didn't wait for a reply, and when Benjamin had pried his angry stare from her retreating back, the boys didn't wait to find out if she meant it.

"She was bluffin'!" Benjamin insisted as they pedaled away down the dismal street. "She can't get someone arrested just for standing on the sidewalk, can she?"

"I don't know," Joby said. "But you know what? I think Jamie's whole family works for the devil."

"I'll tell you what!" Benjamin replied. "I think his stepmom is the devil!"

Lindwald came to school the next morning as close to elated as he had ever felt. Joby had finally handed him precisely what he needed! Knowing that his master wouldn't want Joby getting in trouble again, however, Lindwald had been forced to wait until school got out before cashing in.

"Hey, Joby!" he hollered, charging angrily across the playground as everyone headed toward the bus stop or their parents' cars in the parking lot. "Who the fuck didja think you were-comin' to my house, an' tellin' my folks a bunch a lies!"

The crowd of kids between them parted like milk before a chopping maul, and before Joby could react, Lindwald rammed him into the air and sent him flying for the second time in three days.

"Stop it! . . . Stop it this minute, you PIG!"

To everyone's amazement, Laura Bayer had leapt into Lindwald's path, planting herself firmly in front of Joby.

"I'm sick of this!" she yelled. "Who do you think you are!"

"Laura," Joby began as he stood up, clutching a skinned arm, "don't-"

"No!" she insisted. "If he wants to fight so bad, he should have to fight us all!" She tilted her head back, and peered belligerently up at Lindwald. "You that brave, mister jerk, bully, fat face?"

She stood there, a slight little girl in thick-rimmed glasses, wearing her cast like a shield of invulnerability, and Lindwald realized that she really didn't think he'd hit her. It was all he could do not to laugh. These little specks of dung dust were so clueless! He drew one arm back and hit her hard in the stomach. Joby would have to fight him now.

There was a horrified gasp from all around as Laura folded and fell, her mouth open, but no voice to fill it. Then every boy there lunged at Lindwald.

"Back!" Joby barked. Something in his voice froze all those angry arms and knees as if time itself had stopped, and Lindwald had just enough time to remind himself to make it convincing before Joby was on him like a crashing plane.

"Convincing" turned out to be no problem. Trapped in the illusion of flesh, stripped of any special power, Lindwald could do nothing to deflect the blows or mute the pain, and the unrestrained fury of Joby's assault was somehow far more frightening than the coldly calculated torments inflicted by his "parents" each night. His sudden panic was as genuine as it was unexpected.

"Stop it! I give up!" Lindwald wailed, falling to the ground, his head cradled under his arms. "You're killing me! . . . HELP!" he screeched.

Lindwald vaguely registered the confusion around them, some voices calling for Joby to stop, Laura's among them-others cheering Joby on. But Joby seemed too lost in rage to heed anything but his one horribly singular purpose.

Suddenly, Lindwald found himself in a room he had not so much as thought of in three hundred years, trying to press himself through a stone wall as his mortal father hammered relentlessly at his back and limbs with an iron hearth tool on the night that Jamie, himself, had died. It wasn't fair! He was already dead! They couldn't make him go through this again! The numb strength of pure transcendent terror possessed him then. Leaping up, Lindwald dimly felt Joby's weight tumble from his back like a load of wet leaves. Then he ran.

In seconds he was through the playground gate and into the field behind the school, but he heard Joby and Benjamin shouting right behind him. They were never going to let him go!

Alerted by Williamson, Lucifer hovered over the viewing bowl in his office, watching Lindwald's long-awaited rout with almost sensual relish. "I could almost forgive your bungling for the pleasure this affords me, you little bastard." The grin he wore threatened to overflow his face and wrap around his head. "Run, Jamie! Run!" he cackled in quiet falsetto. Then, even more softly, "Joby, my angry little friend, I never guessed you had such marvelous potential! Get him, boy! Sic him!" Lucifer howled with mirth, watching them corner Jamie in a small, dense copse of dusty trees.

"What's a matter, Lindwald?" Joby taunted as he and Benjamin dodged one way, then the other, to keep Jamie from bolting. "Don'cha wanna fight me anymore?"

"Let me go!" Lindwald wailed. "You win! I told you! You win!"

"Laura's arm is broken, you asshole!" Joby shouted. "What the hell made you think it was okay to-"

"I'M SORRY!" Jamie screamed. "Don't hit me anymore!"

"He's nothing but a yellow little stink ball," Benjamin jeered. "That the best a demon can do?"

"What're you talkin' about?" Jamie whimpered. "I ain't no demon."

"We know what you are, Lindwald," Joby sneered, "and who you work for."

"I don't work for anyone!" Jamie moaned. "You're crazy." He tried to rush past them again, but Joby reached out and grabbed his shirt, which ripped down one side, exposing his back as Benjamin threw him to the ground, where he lay, shaking and rippling with sobs.

"What . . . is that?" Benjamin gasped, jumping back from him in revulsion.

Joby just stared.

Lindwald's back was covered with livid welts like long, fat caterpillars made of raw hamburger.

Jamie's crying grew softer, and he rolled slowly over to face his tormentors.

"What're you starin' at?" he whined.

"What's that all over your back?" Joby demanded in disgust.

For a moment, Lindwald looked blank. Then he pouted, and said, "That's what they do to me." The calculating look that crossed his face was so brief that Lucifer doubted anyone but himself had seen it. "That's what you made my folks do to me," Lindwald pressed, looking as pathetic as possible.

"Us?" Joby demanded. "We had nothing to do with-"

"You made 'em mad at me!" Jamie whimpered miserably.

"Your parents," Benjamin said in hushed disbelief, "did that?"

"No way," Joby whispered in shock. "Nobody's folks could . . . I mean . . ."

Jamie played his serendipitous lever for all it was worth.

"No one's s'posed to know," he said, his lower lip trembling. "If they find out you saw, I . . . I don't know what they'll do to me. Please! Please don't tell anyone!"

"Lindwald!" Lucifer murmured, impressed despite himself. "What happened to that stupid lump I've put up with all these centuries?"

Lindwald broke down utterly then, and it was all Lucifer could do not to applaud the performance. To think that such theatrical genius had lain dormant under that clumsy shell for so many centuries, waiting for sufficient fear to bring it forth! Lucifer was chagrined by a sudden suspicion that he'd grown too lax over the eons.

"Oh no," Joby whispered. "Benjamin . . . He . . . What if he's not . . . Benjamin, I've done something terrible." He stepped closer to Jamie, and said, "We had no idea what you were going through. Why didn't you tell somebody? A teacher, or-"