Gabriel's Clock (14 page)

“Your parents weren't moving for the sake of your father's career,” said Gabriel. “They were moving to try to keep you safe. To try to keep one step ahead of Belial and the Corvidae.”

“Could Belial really do what Rook said he could?” asked Jonathan. “Could he turn me into a weapon?”

“Yes, I think he could,” said Gabriel. “Belial is ancient—very intelligent and evil beyond redemption. Do not underestimate him as I appear to have done. Your parents just wanted you to have a normal life, Jonathan. They were trying to protect you. Please don't hate them for that.”

“I don't hate them—I just wish they'd told me!” cried Jonathan.

“I know.” Gabriel sighed. “Everything always looks so clear in hindsight. I wanted you all to live here, where you were born, but if there's one thing angels are, it's stubborn—and my son is no exception.”

“I was born here?” gasped Jonathan.

Gabriel smiled. “I have your crib in my cottage.”

“Is that why this place feels so familiar, so like home?”

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “You can leave Hobbes End, but it never leaves you.”

“But what happened to Mom and Dad? Where are they?”

Gabriel swallowed hard and turned to face Michael's window once again. Jonathan could see the distress in the old angel's face. It mirrored what he was feeling inside.

“I don't know is the answer,” said Gabriel. “Grimm went to check your old cottage soon after you first arrived. There was no sign of either of your parents. I'm hoping that your mother is making her way to Lucifer for help. It's a huge risk, and the journey will be difficult, but if she reaches him, she may at least gain a measure of protection.”

“And Dad?”

Gabriel swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “Creation grant my son the strength to endure.”

To Jonathan it sounded like a prayer. Then all the pieces fell together, leaving him with a picture that he didn't want to see. “They've got him, haven't they?” he stammered. “It's . . . it's how the Corvidae knew where to find me. Belial's got Dad and he's hurt him, hasn't he?” Tears spilled down his face. “Is Dad dead?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don't think so. I would have felt his passing, and he wouldn't have revealed your location without a fight. Belial will not have been . . . gentle . . . with him, though.”

Jonathan heard that voice inside him again, the one he'd heard during his fight with Rook, the one that urged him to destroy.

“I want to kill Belial,” he said coldly. “I want to make him suffer for what he's done.”

Gabriel sighed and placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder. “It's speaking to you, isn't it?”

“What is?” asked Jonathan.

“You know what I mean,” said Gabriel. “That voice inside you.”

“Is it because I'm half demon?” Jonathan asked. “Do I have this evil side?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Life's not so black and white, my boy. Angels and demons are more alike than you would think. Your mom is just as good as your dad. What you're hearing is the voice of power. The more power you have, the louder it shouts. Humans have a saying, that power corrupts, and that absolute power corrupts absolutely, but they have no idea how true that is. You are powerful, Jonathan. I don't know how powerful yet, because there's never been anyone like you before. It's the reason Belial wants you, and it's the reason you always need to be on your guard against that voice. Never let it rule you.”

“What happens if I can't control it?”

“Then you turn into another Lucifer, and you end up destroying that which you profess to love.”

“Oh . . .” Jonathan sighed.

“Don't worry, grandson,” said Gabriel. “I'll teach you all I can. Show you how to use those wings of yours without hurting anyone.”

“Is that what scared Rook away? Those big purple things that grew out of my shoulders? Were they my wings?”

Gabriel nodded. “Once you know how to control them they manifest at your command. It looks like the mixing of angel and demon genes has somehow given you wings that are as powerful as mine once were, maybe even more so. The Corvidae will be wary of attacking you head-on after the scare you gave Rook.”

“But my shoulders are all bruised,” said Jonathan. “They really hurt.”

“I know,” said Gabriel. “It's because you haven't had time to learn what they are, what they can do, to manifest them gently. You just reacted instinctively to a threat when Rook attacked you. It's no wonder it hurt—all that power ripping its way out of you unchecked. Whatever happens, you must try to keep it under control, not let anger take over. Each time it happens it damages your body, and I don't know how much more you can take.”

Jonathan's heart sank. “Will you help me? Teach me to control it?”

“Of course I will, Jonathan,” said Gabriel. “But right now we have to get you away from Belial and the Corvidae or we'll never get the chance.”

“How are they getting into Hobbes End?” asked Cay.

Gabriel shook his head. “I just don't know, Cay. I'm going to figure it out, but it'll take time, and that's a luxury we don't have. Jonathan, I've been thinking about this since you were attacked, and I need to hide you somewhere else. Somewhere Belial and the Corvidae can't possibly go.”

“But where?”

“My old workshop in Heaven,” said Gabriel.

“But didn't you say Heaven was all locked up?” asked Cay.

Gabriel nodded. “My brother Raphael may have locked the gates, but I think that with the right key I may be able to open a back door. If I work all day, I can have it finished by tonight. Then I can sneak Jonathan into Heaven without Raphael knowing. Once he's safe, I can figure out how to fight the Corvidae.”

“That's genius!” said Cay.

“But how could you open a door into Heaven?” asked Jonathan.

“Given the complexity of what I'm trying to do,” said Gabriel, “there's only one sort of key that will suffice.”

“Like what?” asked Cay.

“What do you think?” said Gabriel. “It'll have to be a clock!”

Up above, crouching in the belfry and listening to every word that Gabriel said, Rook smiled.

 

“Would you like some fresh tea, Elgar?” asked Grimm, placing a bowl in front of the cat.

“There's no dog in it, is there?”

“No, there's no dog in it!” snapped Grimm. “What's left of Renoir is boxed up and ready to be sent to Devon. I suggest you never mention it again. If Ignatius's mom finds out what I did, we'll all be in for it.”

“He's right,” said Ignatius, from behind that day's paper.

“Discretion is indeed the better part of valor,” said Elgar, dunking his face in the tea.

They heard voices in the vicarage hallway. Moments later Jonathan and Cay walked in, Jonathan looking worried. Cay, knowing how nervous he was, gave his hand a brief squeeze.

“We've got something to tell you,” said Jonathan.

Elgar looked up from his bowl, tea dripping from his whiskers. “You're not getting married, are you?”

Muffled snorting came from around the table.

“No, we're not getting married, kipper brain!” protested Cay.

“It's all right,” said Jonathan. “Can I have some tea?”

“Yep,” said Grimm, reaching for the pot.

“There's no dog in it, is there?”

“
No. There's no flippin' dog in the tea!”
snarled Grimm.

“Don't worry about him,” Elgar reassured Jonathan. “Did you find Gabriel?”

“Yeah, he told me everything. And he said you already know who I really am.”

“We weren't hiding anything from you on purpose, Jonathan,” said Ignatius. “We were just helping Gabriel try to keep you safe.”

“I know, and that's why Gabriel asked me to come over and tell you his plan while he gets things ready.”

“What plan is that, Jonathan?” asked Grimm.

“Gabriel's going to sneak me into Heaven by a secret back door that he built into his old workroom.”

There was a plop as Ignatius's pipe fell out of his mouth and into his cup of tea. “I see,” he said, a stunned look on his face. “Then I guess you'd better sit down and give us the details!”

Chapter 14

In the attic of his cottage, Gabriel sat slumped at his workbench. His hands shook, his breathing was labored; he was utterly exhausted. On the scarred wood in front of him lay the most difficult piece of engineering he'd ever attempted. It had taken most of the day and almost all the power he had left, but he didn't begrudge an ounce of it.

“I've done it,” the angel said to himself, his voice hoarse. “You're going to be safe, Jonathan.”

A shadow flickered above him, and Gabriel raised his weary head just in time to see the skylight in the roof explode inward. Shards of glass rained down as Rook, Raven, and Crow plummeted to the floor.

Without hesitation Gabriel grabbed with both hands a glass sphere that sat on the bench in front of him. The sphere contained an incredibly complex clock mechanism, with the numerals for hours and minutes etched onto the inside of the glass. With a grunt of effort he threw the sphere at a door built into the gable wall, and the door flew open to reveal the impossible—a desert landscape stretching off into the distance as far as the eye could see. The sphere sailed through the doorway in a graceful arc to land with a thump in the soft sand beyond.

“Guard it, Brass!” croaked Gabriel.

Rook snarled and dived for the open doorway, just to have it slam shut in his face. He grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open again to reveal nothing but a brick wall.

Gabriel allowed himself a weary chuckle. “You'll never see Heaven, monster.” He sighed.

Rook turned and snarled as Raven and Crow grabbed the weakened angel's arms.

With inhuman force, Rook dealt Gabriel a backhanded blow that knocked him across the room and into an oak bookcase. Gabriel slumped to the floor as his precious books cascaded around him. His vision began to dim, and he could just make out the figure of Rook standing above him.

“I may not see Heaven,” hissed the demon, “but I'll make damn sure you get to see Hell.”

Gabriel smiled through the pain as Rook rained blows upon him. “Deus ex machina,” he whispered as consciousness slipped away.

 

In the vicarage kitchen Ignatius lowered the
Times
to reveal his ashen face. He stood up, hands shaking.

“What's wrong?” asked Grimm, his arms elbow deep in suds as he washed a pile of dirty dishes.

“Gabriel,” said Ignatius. “There's something wrong with Gabriel. The village is crying.”

“Let's go,” said Grimm, not bothering to wipe his arms or remove his apron.

With gathering panic they ran from the vicarage, past the sleeping gargoyles, and into the churchyard. In horror they saw the door to the angel's cottage hanging open, and at their feet a long smear of blood ran from inside the cottage and across the grass to the nearby tree line.

“Dear God,” said Ignatius. “They've taken him.” He rushed inside the cottage, calling out for Gabriel, but he knew in his heart it was too late. There was a thumping of feet from outside, and Jonathan, Cay, and Elgar burst in.

“Grandfather!” Jonathan cried out.

“We saw you running,” said Elgar. “What's happened?”

Ignatius could only stare helplessly at Jonathan. “I . . .” he croaked.

Jonathan launched himself up the stairs to Gabriel's workroom, trying not to look at the drying trail of crimson that marked the wooden steps. He emerged into the attic to see the scattered books, the shattered skylight, and the dusting of broken glass. Of Gabriel there was no sign.

He stood next to the workbench and gripped the edge as hard as he could to stop himself from falling. He felt faint, and the room spun around him. “This isn't fair,” he said. “You take my mom and dad, and now you take my grandfather, too. I'm going to get you, Belial. I don't know how yet, but I will. You should be scared of me, just like Rook was.” He wiped his eyes with the end of his sleeve as angry tears began to spill down his face. “Don't give up,” he said to himself. “There's got to be something you can do to help.”

And then he saw it, sitting on the bench between his hands. It had a worn leather strap and a new glass face, but it was the same watch that Gabriel had given him before. He picked it up and fastened it to his wrist. Somehow it made him feel better, as if part of his grandfather was still there with him.

“You okay, son?” rumbled Grimm, gently placing a hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

Jonathan turned to look at his friend and nodded. “We're going to get Belial, aren't we?”

“Hell, yes!” said Grimm. “We are now officially at war. Belial will rue the day he took on this village.”