Interesting, noted Artemis. If I could recreate this, I could revolutionize the communications business.
'I'm tied to a chair,' he said apologetically, as though it was his fault. Unfortunately he said this in Gnommish and in the demon dialect. To the humans it sounded like he was trying to dislodge a particularly annoying blockage from his throat.
The demon fell silent, regarding Artemis as though he was some kind of fantastic creature. Which, of course, he was. Artemis, for his part, spent what could possibly be the last few moments of his life, observing the scene before him. They were materializing at a building site. It was the Casa Mila, but not yet completed. Workmen swarmed across scaffolding erected at the front of the building and a swarthy bearded man stood scowling at a sheet of architectural drawings.
'I doubt the Book has too many charts and graphs,' noted Butler.
'No,' said Eric. 'We fight demons.'
'We know all about you, Billy. We've been watching you for years.'
No. We're in the magic circle once more. I need your power. Now!