Authors: Hilton Pashley
“For what?”
Belial growled.
“This,” Jonathan replied. Without hesitation he shot skyward, pulling Belial along with him as he smashed through the ceiling and up into the night . . .
Chapter 25
As she ran to the front door, her wolf father at her side, Cay noticed that someone was missing.
“Where's Grimm?” she shouted.
Ignatius cast a worried look over his shoulder. There was no sign of his old friend in the ballroom doorway. “I'll go back and get him when I've got you all outside,” he said. “Now come on, we haven't much time!”
They'd just reached the front door when behind them an enormous crash shook the building.
“Everyone get in the car,” said Ignatius. “I don't know what Jonathan's going to do, but I think we need to be away from here!”
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Grimm stared at the hole in the ceiling made by Jonathan and the thrashing Belial.
“That's going to take some fixing,” he said, walking across the parquet floor toward Crow. Having recovered from Grimm's earlier blow, the demon was hammering at a side door with his remaining arm, oblivious to his surroundings as he tried desperately to escape.
Standing behind Crow, Grimm swung Isobel up and over his right shoulder.
“Evening,” he said.
Crow spun round, a look of horror on his featureless face.
“I've come to pick up a hat,” said Grimm, grinning wickedly as he swung Isobel with all his considerable might. And it was with great satisfaction that Grimm took Crow's head clean off his shoulders.
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Ignatius sprinted down the main hallway, a wave of relief flooding through him as Grimm appeared in the ballroom doorway. He had a spare bowler hat under one arm and Isobel under the other.
“Isobel two, demons nil!” said Grimm, grinning from ear to ear.
Ignatius grinned back but knew they had to get clear of the house.
“Car! Now!”
he shouted.
With all the speed they could muster they tore along the hall, down the steps, and into the waiting Daimler. Jumping into the driver's seat, Grimm pulled the ignition key from his shirt pocket and started the engine.
“Present for you,” he said to Cay, tossing her Crow's bowler hat. “Hang on tight!”
“But what about Jonathan?” she cried.
“It's not him you need to worry about,” hooted Elgar. “It's the archdemon he's about to tear apart. Floor it, Grimm!”
Revving the engine until it screamed, Grimm spun the old car in a tight loop across the front lawn, flattening several box hedges. Within seconds they were flying down the drive and away from the mansion. It wasn't until the main gates loomed large in the car's headlights that Cay realized they had no way of opening them.
“How are we going to get out?” she shouted over the roar of the engine.
“The fun way!” barked Grimm, his face alight with excitement.
“I take it we're not going to stop, then?” said Ignatius, bracing his feet against the dashboard.
Grimm shook his head and floored the accelerator.
“Hang on, Dad!” Cay said to her father. He hadn't had time to change back to human form, and he looked at her with huge yellow eyes and whined in alarm as he tried to jam himself behind Ignatius's seat.
“You know, Cay,” Grimm called over his shoulder, “I've always wanted to do this. Brace yourselves!”
With a terrific bang the car slammed into the iron gates, smashing them open before slewing its way onto the road. One headlight and a considerable portion of the body was destroyed in the process, but the engine kept going. Accompanied by much whooping from Grimm, the old Daimler shot down the country lane, leaving bits of twisted metal in its wake.
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High above the mansion, Jonathan used every ounce of his strength to drag the howling Belial up into the night. The urge to rip the archdemon limb from limb was still there, but Jonathan refused to give in to it. He knew what punishment he was going to inflict upon Belialâand it didn't involve a quick death.
The archdemon struggled frantically, clawing and biting as he tried to free himself from the grip of Jonathan's wings. Time and time again he almost got loose, but Jonathan refused to let him go, even though Jonathan's glass armor began to shatter under the appalling onslaught, Belial's claws and teeth leaving him bleeding and battered. He ignored the pain.
Increasing his speed, Jonathan powered upward, away from the earth. The air filled with the acrid reek of ozone as lightning arced around the battling pair. With an ear-splitting boom, angel and archdemon shot through the sound barrier. The wind grew colder and the stars brighter as Jonathan and his struggling prisoner hurtled ever upward until, with shocking abruptness, Jonathan stopped.
With the knowledge of what he was about to do burning blue in his eyes, Jonathan spoke to Belial one last time as they hung there, high above the curve of the moon-bright earth.
“Why did you cause so much pain?” he demanded.
“Why?”
Belial spat black blood and grinned. “It's in my nature, little general.”
Jonathan gritted his teeth. “So be it,” he said. “I'm sending you home, monster. Right onto Lucifer's doorstep. Let's see what he decides to do with you!” As a look of shock crossed Belial's face, Jonathan plunged downward, driving the shrieking archdemon before him.
The stars blurred past, and the very air screamed. Jonathan was dimly aware of Belial struggling in his grip again, but he ignored the distraction. All his focus, all Gabriel's knowledge, everything he'd become, was geared to a single task. The memories of the greatest engineer in the universe guided Jonathan in calling forth the formulas needed to punch a new hole in reality. As the mansion loomed large beneath him once more, Jonathan trusted that he'd gotten
the timing right.
“This is probably going to hurt!” he said to himself.
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“Stop here, Grimm!” shouted Ignatius.
Grimm brought the car to a halt and Ignatius got out, staring over the fields to where the lights of Belial's mansion could still be seen.
“What are we looking at?” asked Elgar, jumping onto the Daimler's roof.
“That,” said Ignatius, pointing to a bright purple star streaking earthward at incredible speed. A moment later it struck home, and in the blink of an eye the mansion was vaporized. The force of the blast was extraordinary, chunks of wood and masonry flying in all directions as a wall of air and noise swept over the car.
In seconds it was all over, and silence descended.
“Jonathan?” asked Cay.
“I don't know,” said Ignatius. “But we're going to find out.”
The car made its way back, carefully skirting lumps of debris in the road. They managed to get halfway up the drive before progress became impossible. In front of them, illuminated by the car headlights, a huge, rubble-strewn crater lay where the mansion had been.
Dust hung thick in the air, and everyone just sat quietly, shocked at the scale of the devastation. Then, as if in answer to their prayers, a figure stumbled out of the gloom. He had no horns growing from his temples, no scales on his neck, no mighty wings; it was just a young boy in torn and filthy clothes.
Ignatius launched himself from the car and ran up to Jonathan, stopping short when he saw the extent of his injuries. Jonathan smiled through cracked lips, one eye swollen completely shut and an awful gash on his forehead bleeding profusely.
“Would you mind giving me a lift home?” he croaked. “I don't think I'm up to flying.”
“I think,” said Ignatius, a huge lump in his throat, “that we can oblige.”
Chapter 26
After all the excitement the journey home was mercifully peaceful in comparison. On the back seat of the Daimler sat Jonathan, wrapped in a blanket and staring out the window with his one good eye, his arm curled protectively around Elgar. Next to him, a sleeping Cay sat cradled in her father's lap, dreaming of a bright blustery day and a new kite. Kenneth Forrester, finally back in human form and content that his wife wasn't going to kill him when he got home, stroked his daughter's hair and watched her sleep peacefully.
“I didn't kill Belial, you know,” said Jonathan.
Ignatius turned to look at him but didn't say anything.
“I handed him over to Lucifer,” Jonathan continued. “I thought he could come up with a better punishment than we could. Lucifer must have been really angry when Belial smashed through the roof of his tower!”
“The solution does have an elegant symmetry to it,” said Ignatius, astonished at the power required to do such a thing.
Jonathan gave him a sad smile, shut his eyes, and instantly fell asleep.
“He'll be all right,” said Grimm, seeing the expression on Ignatius's face. “He's a mystery, but the boy's certainly got guts.”
“That he has,” said Ignatius. “Talking of guts, how are yours after that swipe Belial gave you?”
“It only hurts when I laugh.” Grimm winced.
“I'd better not crack any jokes, then,” said Ignatius with a grin.
Unable to resist the temptation, Elgar sang out, “There was a young man from Venus, who had an unusualâ”
“No, cat!”
barked Ignatius and Grimm simultaneously.
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No one got up too early the following morning. Grimm lay snoring on the sofa in the lounge, a mug of cold tea balanced on his chest. Jonathan was tucked up in bed with Elgar across his feet, and Cay slept between her parents, her mother refusing to let her out of her sight.
In his study, Ignatius was fast asleep in a chair by the fireplace. In his hand was the silver-framed photograph of Angela and David that normally sat on his desk. For the first time in three years he dreamed of his wife and son without feeling the awful pain of their loss. He smiled to himself and settled deeper into the chair.
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“They're sort of fuzzy,” said Jonathan, sitting at the kitchen table. “I have all of these memories whizzing around in my head. Some are mine and some are Gabriel's. It's weird seeing Mom and Dad through someone else's eyes.”
“Yes, it must be,” said Ignatius.
“I can see Mom leaving me in Gabriel's cottage, and I can see how sad she was. She didn't abandon me like I thought.”
“No,” said Ignatius, “she didn't abandon you. She did the only thing she could think of to keep you safe. She brought you home.”
Jonathan nodded. “Home,” he said. “It's a nice word. It means not having to look over your shoulder; it means not having to run anymore. Hopefully, once Mom hears the news that Belial is gone, she'll know it's safe to come back to Hobbes End.”
“Home also means kippers in the fridge and somewhere warm to have a snooze,” said Elgar. “Added to which it's a good job you didn't lose your watch. We'd all be dead, and Belial would still be stomping around with his big stinky feet. Are you sure you didn't pull off his wings like I asked you to?”
Jonathan smiled and gently stroked Elgar's fur. “You're a very bad cat,” he said.
“That, sir, I take as a compliment.”
“You were amazing, Johnny,” said Cay. “Can you still fly and stuff?”
“Not yet,” said Jonathan. “When I fought Belial I could feel Gabriel's soul guiding me, but he's gone now. His memories are all in my head, though. I just need time to understand them, find out what I can do.”
“It was still amazing,” said Ignatius. “And you saved all our lives. Bless you, my boy, and bless Gabriel, too, wherever he is.”
“Grandfather did what he promised,” said Jonathan. “This watch can open a gate to Heaven, but getting it to work is incredibly complicated. The knowledge is all in my head, but knowing and understanding are not the same thing. I have to figure it out, Ignatius. I can't save Dad if I don't.” Jonathan bit back tears as he thought about his father still lying injured and alone.