Gabriel's Clock (19 page)

“
Schadenfreude
?”

“That's the one!”

Feeling sad for his friend, Jonathan scratched Elgar gently behind the ears while Grimm placed his mug of tea on the patio for the cat to have a drink.

“Do you know which part of Hell my mother comes from?” asked Jonathan.

“Nope,” said Elgar. “But Hell's a very big place. My guess is that your mom's side of the family also lives in the bit controlled by Belial—it's probably how he found out about you in the first place. When this current unpleasantness is over I'll take you there, if you like. We can have a joint expedition to find our respective families. Your mom might have gotten to Lucifer's tower by now. She could have met my brother and not even know it!”

Elgar grinned impishly at Jonathan, who couldn't help but smile back.

“Blimey,” said Grimm. “You couldn't make it up, could you?”

“No, not really,” said Elgar. “Now please let me get some shuteye, will you? I'm pooped.”

“Okay, then, cat, we'll watch over you while you sleep,” said Grimm.

Elgar closed his yellow eyes and didn't let Grimm see that he was smiling.

Listening to Elgar, Jonathan realized something. Behind all his bluster the cat had a lot in common with him: he wasn't what he appeared to be, and he didn't know where his parents were either.

Chapter 17

At nine o'clock that morning the inhabitants of the vicarage began to stir. Kenneth Forrester came downstairs, gratefully accepting morning tea and toast along with everyone else.

“I'm so worried about Cay,” he said. “Joanne's frantic, and I don't know what to do.”

“I'm positive they're not going to hurt her, Ken,” said Ignatius. “Belial wants something, and he's going to use her as leverage to get it. Believe me, we are far from beaten yet!”

Kenneth nodded wearily. “Thank you.”

“I know your cottage got damaged, so you're welcome to stay here as long as you like,” said Ignatius. “Please try not to worry about Cay.”

“If Belial hurts my daughter,” growled Kenneth, “I'll hunt him down and gut him while he's still breathing. I'm just going to take some breakfast up to Joanne; I'll speak to you later.” Placing a mug of tea and a plate of toast on a tray, he disappeared back upstairs.

“What do we do now?” Jonathan asked Ignatius.

“I know it's difficult, but we wait just a little bit longer. There's bound to be some kind of ultimatum, and then we can decide what to do. Anyway, right now I need to retrieve my rapier from the bottom of the pond.”

 

Jonathan, Elgar, Ignatius, and Grimm stood by the vicarage gates. After repeatedly banging his fist on each gatepost, Ignatius eventually got Montgomery and Stubbs to wake up.

“Oh, we needed that sleep, didn't we, Mr. Stubbs?” said a groggy Montgomery, yawning widely.

“Indeed we did, Mr. Montgomery, indeed we did,” said Stubbs, yawning even wider in response.

“I need you two to be on guard,” said Ignatius. “The village was attacked yesterday while you were asleep. Miss Forrester has been kidnapped.”

“Oh no!” cried Montgomery.

“I hate being a stupid sleepy gargoyle!” growled Stubbs, his face twisted into an expression of complete anguish.

“You're not stupid, Stubbsey,” said Jonathan. “Or you, Monty. You already saved Cay and her dad. Don't forget that.”

“Jonathan's right, boys,” said Ignatius. “This is not your fault. You can only do so much, and as far as everyone in the village is concerned you're heroes, both of you. Now, I want you to get as much rest as you can, but keep an eye out, just in case. Okay?”

The gargoyles stood to attention and saluted.

“Righto, chief,” said Montgomery.

“Leave it to us,” Stubbs concurred.

“Good, but no flying unless absolutely necessary, okay? You'll be sleeping for weeks at this rate.”

The gargoyles nodded.

Happy that Montgomery and Stubbs would keep an eye on things, Ignatius led the way across the village green, his unlit pipe tucked into the corner of his mouth as usual.

They reached the pond that Grimm had drained the night before, and Jonathan stared in awe at what usually lay hidden beneath the dark water. While Ignatius, Grimm, and Elgar looked on in quiet respect, he stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak. The pond basin wasn't what he'd expected. Rather than a layer of mud, old bicycle wheels, and indignant frogs, he saw a wide expanse of black glass, shimmering in a flow of clear water from an underground spring. The glass was cracked and pitted in a million places, and in the center was something extraordinary—a crater with an unmistakably human outline. From its shoulders, strange, twisted shapes had been etched into the glass like a pair of mighty wings. Resting nearby was Ignatius's rapier, washed clean of Raven's blood and glittering wetly in the sunlight.

It was then that Jonathan felt it: a huge wave of regret that washed over and through him. It spoke of loss, but also of a refusal to give in and, even more, of hope. Jonathan wasn't aware he was crying until he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. He touched fingertips to his face in surprise.

“This is the heart of Hobbes End, Jonathan,” said Ignatius. “This is where your grandfather fell and where my ancestor Augustus pulled him from the water. One angel, one vicar, one village. Sanctuary.”

Jonathan nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I can feel Gabriel here. I didn't know how much of himself he gave away.” As he stood quietly by the edge of the pond, he sensed something new, something even more extraordinary than Gabriel's regret. It was a voice both powerful and gentle, utterly different from the uncontrolled energy waiting inside him. It was running water, wind in the trees, birds flying, grass growing, and people going about their lives knowing that they had someone to watch over them. It was Hobbes End itself, and it chose that moment to speak to Jonathan.

“Hello,” it said.

Jonathan gasped and sank to his knees. It was like someone had lifted an awful weight from his heart, and for the first time since his life had been turned upside down he felt at peace.

“You heard that, didn't you,” said Ignatius with a gentle smile.

Jonathan nodded.

“Then perhaps this doesn't end with me,” said Ignatius. “Just a thought. Now, if you'll all wait here for a minute.”

Jonathan watched as the vicar climbed down into the pond to retrieve his rapier, carefully avoiding the crater left by Gabriel's fall. Sword retrieved, Ignatius scrambled up the muddy bank and shut the sluice gate before rejoining his friends. The pond began to refill, and the outline of the fallen angel disappeared again under a sheet of rippling water.

“Well, there's something you don't see every day,” said Grimm.

“Yes,” agreed Jonathan. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” said Ignatius. “Now we wait.”

 

Cay sat beside Gabriel, still horrified at the violence that had been visited on the old angel. He reached out a gnarled hand, which Cay grasped and held against her cheek, feeling the bones just beneath the skin.

“I'm old, Cay,” said Gabriel. “My time is almost over, but there is one last job to do.”

“What do you mean?” asked Cay. “You're still an archangel—you'll live for ages, won't you?”

“Nothing is forever,” said Gabriel. “Not Heaven, not Hell, not me. Everything changes. Creation doesn't stand still.” He sighed deeply and bowed his head. “I'm sorry you got dragged into all this, Cay. If only you could have seen me before it all fell apart, back when I was Gabriel Artificer. With enough will there was nothing I couldn't build or mend. Through the windows of my wings I used to be able to create worlds. Now I'm but a pale shadow, fit only to build trinkets.”

“Don't say that,” said Cay.

“I'm sorry, child,” said Gabriel. “I don't mean to sound so full of self-pity. There is hope yet.”

“So you do think we'll get out of here, then?” said Cay.

“Of course we will; have faith.”

“I'll try. I just wish I knew that everyone back home was okay. I hope Jonathan didn't get hurt.”

“So do I,” said Gabriel.

“It's my eleventh birthday tomorrow,” whispered Cay. “The best present I could have would be for us all to be safe and together again, flying kites on the village green.”

Gabriel smiled. “That would be a fine birthday present indeed,” he said. “I do have something for you, though. I didn't forget.”

Cay smiled. “You can give it to me when we get home,” she said.

“Yes,” said Gabriel, staring blindly out the window. “I think it's a present you won't forget in a hurry.”

Chapter 18

A midday knock at the vicarage door signaled the arrival of the postman. Ignatius got up to find a brown paper parcel sitting on the doorstep. He picked it up and returned to the kitchen, where Jonathan, with Elgar on his lap, sat waiting. Every minute that ticked by seemed like an hour, and Jonathan felt the calm he had discovered by the pond being rapidly eroded.

“The postie's late today,” said Grimm from the pantry. He was rearranging tins of tea in order to keep himself occupied.

“Hmm,” nodded Ignatius, fishing a pair of scissors from the cutlery drawer. He had just snipped the string and started to peel open the parcel when the phone in the hall began to ring. They were all expecting it, but it still made them jump.

“Do you think . . . ?” asked Jonathan.

Ignatius nodded, his face impassive. “Something tells me it's not someone trying to sell us insurance. Gather round so you can hear.” They all stood next to him as the vicar of Hobbes End lifted the receiver. “This is the Reverend Ignatius Crumb speaking,” he said. “Explain yourself, Belial.”

“It's a pleasure to finally speak with you, Reverend Crumb,” came a deep, mocking voice. “You know who I am, so there's no need for pleasantries.”

Jonathan looked at Ignatius in alarm as the vicar scowled and clenched his jaw. “Yes, I've heard of you, Belial. You're a coward, and you disgust me.”

“Now now, there's no need for name-calling. I was trying to be civilized.”

“Civilized?” blurted Ignatius. “You invade my village, hurt those under my care, and try to steal what isn't yours. In what way is that civilized?”

“
Tch!
Mere semantics.” The archdemon chuckled. “Still, I think we can get down to business, don't you?”

“As long as you haven't hurt Jonathan's family or Cay.”

“You have my word,” lied Belial. “They're here, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. If you do what I ask, then I'll hand them back to you.”

“Go on,” said Ignatius through gritted teeth.

“I want the boy, and I want Gabriel's clock. I'm going to turn Jonathan into the most feared weapon in all of creation. Gabriel's cherubim that slaughtered us on the plain of Armageddon will be nothing to what Jonathan can become. And when he is ready I will destroy the other archdemons, then destroy Lucifer and be sole ruler in Hell. I know you're listening, Jonathan. Go on, admit it. There's a bit of you that wants this, isn't there? Imagine being greater than Lucifer could ever aspire to be. Just do as I ask and it can all be yours.”

The voice inside Jonathan's head began clamoring to be heard. It liked Belial's offer. It wanted a chance to be free, to be able to use such extraordinary power without restraint. Jonathan began to shake until Grimm placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. That was a comfort, but something else made it complete. The village itself. It had accepted him, and it knew that he needed help.

“Be still,” it whispered. “Don
'
t be afraid.” The shaking subsided, and Jonathan found the strength to listen to Belial without giving in to the fury inside him.