Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$0.69				$0.59
Micropay Rebate:	50%				50%
Cost After Rebate:	$0.34				$0.30
You Save:	50.72%				56.52%

eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Kjest is a young demon, a Pain Lord whose only talent is winning tourneys and taking his opponents power as his own. A demonic lottery forces Zhole, eldest of the Lords of Disease, from the peace and quiet of his retirement to answer the upstart's challenge. On a Halloween night in a Philadelphia suburb, they will play a game with humans as tokens. Now Zhole, the demon responsible for the plagues that killed half of Europe, must elicit moments of delight and instants of joy from the game pieces, while Kjest strives to have them touch or be touched by leaves, again and again. The demon with the higher count wins not just the other's power, but the souls of the game pieces as well.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: AEon Magazine, 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2006

12 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [170 KB], eReader (PDB) [32 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [18 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [17 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [78 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [89 KB], hiebook (KML) [69 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [44 KB], iSilo (PDB) [15 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [20 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [47 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [30 KB]
Words: 5438
Reading time: 15-21 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Lawrence M. Schoen's 'The Game of Leaf and Smile' is a real holiday treat. Two ancient demons mark the territory of one Philadelphian street as grounds for their annual Hallowe'en tourney. They are playing for souls and each others' energies in this one. The stakes are high, the scene is set, and the kids are trick-or-treating. Told from the viewpoint of the mouthless demon, Zhole--who we feel sympathetic to from the start--the sickening notion of demons playing games with mortals captivates the reader right away. Maybe it's the voyeurism aspect that makes the story work; maybe it's the raw level of sadness. I really thought there was no way that a work about demon lords playing with the souls of the living could be so thought-provoking; Schoen has created a tale worth reading again and again. It's dark fantasy, but with a sliver of light stuck in."--Paul Abbamondi, Tangent Online (Learn more about Tangent Online, the Internet's leading SF&F short fiction review website)

Just after twilight, in the first full seconds of the evening of the autumnal equinox, in the city mortals call Philadelphia, a demon invoked a random act. The demon was Kejst, a recently anointed Lord of Pain and the self-styled Friend of Fallen Foliage. More importantly, he was autumn tourney champion of the past one hundred ninety-seven consecutive years. The random action involved a surge along a neural pathway in a motorist's foot, just as he began to move it from accelerator to brake. The foot twitched. The brake went untouched. The driver's car struck and killed a child playing in the street. Time froze.

In that instant the air filled with dust, scattered motes of perception and far-seeing sent by every major demon, and many lesser ones too, bearing witness to the start of this year's tourney. Silently they looked on as Kejst's minions caught the boy's soul, clutched it fast with claws of smoky anguish, and stretched it wide for their master's inspection. As befit a defending champion, the Pain Lord took corporeal form first, assuming the aspect of autumn leaves. He swept in close, a swirl of gold and red and brown. His challenger rippled into existence on the other side of the young soul, man-shaped and shadowy, head devoid of ears or eyes or mouth, and with just the hint of a ridge where a nose might otherwise be expected relative to the chin. Lord Zhole, eldest of the Lords of Disease, had been roused from self-imposed retirement by the ill luck of a demonic lottery. Demon law required an autumnal contest, and if no one would volunteer to face the reigning champion, then all of demonkind drew lots. Not even the eldest of the Lords of Disease could pass, and so Zhole found himself there now. Together with Kejst he examined the soul of the newly dead child, peeling away the fading memories of its recent life.

"It was not necessary to kill this mortal to mark our game's setting," said Zhole, his tone heavy with contempt.

Kejst chuckled, a throaty rustling sound, freshly incarnated with the new season. "Screw him," he said. "It's been a long time since any of you older relics got tagged for the challenge. I wanted a sacrifice to commemorate the event. Have your eons made you squeamish? Forget the kid. You'd be better off focusing on the playing field. This single street, both sides, for the length of this one block, defines our game. Name your tools, Zhole; then I'll do the same."

Lord Zhole felt no offense at Kejst's lack of respect. "I will sow what I hope to reap," he replied. "Smiles will be my instrument and the measure of my success."

"You are as unimaginative as you are old," said Kejst, snorting. "Looking at you now it's hard to believe all the stories I've heard of the fearsome Zhole, Lord of Disease. Can you even recall the last plague you unleashed? Can you trace the last arc of contagion you painted across the mortal landscape? No, probably not. You putter away in your own demesne, growing smiles like some imbecilic gardener with affect vegetables."