Gabriel's Clock (20 page)

“But now we have an added bonus,” the archdemon continued, unable to hide the perverse excitement in his voice. “In his haste to save his grandson, Gabriel has handed me a way to rule not only in Hell but also in Heaven! Imagine that—the armies of Hell marching into an unsuspecting Heaven with Jonathan at their head. Whatever angels are left won't stand a chance. What do you think? Is it worth a shot?”

As Belial laughed down the phone, Ignatius's hand gripped the receiver until his knuckles showed white.

“Well done on defeating Rook and Raven, by the way. Nobody's ever come close before,” the archdemon continued. “I'm actually rather impressed. Crow is very upset, though. He's having trouble tying his shoelaces, and I think he'd quite like to return and beat you all to death with his missing arm.”

“Oh, please let him try,” rumbled Grimm, cracking his knuckles.

“I assume you've figured out how we could trample all over your precious village?” asked Belial.

“Yes,” said Ignatius. “Rook and Raven bursting into flames was a helpful hint.”

“I'm sure it was. Now to business. I have Darriel, Gabriel, and Miss Forrester safely tucked away. Just so we're clear about what you need to do, if you fail to send me the boy with Gabriel's clock, then your friends will meet with a series of . . . unfortunate events.”

“How do I know they're still alive?”

There was a moment's pause before they all heard Cay's voice. “I'm okay!” she shouted out. A wave of relief surged through Jonathan, but then she continued, “And Gabriel's here. He's . . . hurt. He wants to speak with you.”

There was a brief pause before Gabriel's voice came on the line. “Ignatius. Say nothing, just listen to me, old friend, since I have little time. There is a door in my workroom that leads to somewhere else. The clock is there, and Jonathan is the only one who can fetch it. Only someone of my bloodline can enter. Tell Jonathan to make sure he takes the watch I gave him, as he'll need it.”

“But—” said Ignatius.

“Please!” begged Gabriel. “No questions—just trust me. Everything must change. Tell Jonathan not to be afraid of what will happen when he brings the clock to Belial. Innocence is not so easily lost, Heaven is not so easily destroyed, you—”

“That's enough witless sentiment,” snarled Belial. “Now, you have until six o'clock this evening to send me both Jonathan and the clock. If you don't, the consequences to your friends will be most unpleasant.”

Cay let out a muffled scream, and Jonathan felt sicker than he had believed possible.

“I'll send Crow to escort you,” said Belial. “That should give you long enough to fetch Gabriel's masterpiece. Oh, and don't try to fob me off with any old clock, because I know what I'm looking for. Just so you understand who you're dealing with, I sent you a present in the post this morning. What is it my dear mother used to say? Oh, yes, ‘It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye!' Best you run along now. Time's a-wasting, tick tock.”

The line went dead. Ignatius replaced the handset and turned to look at the parcel on the kitchen table.

“What did he mean?” stammered Jonathan. “What's in it?” He took a step toward the table before Grimm wrapped his arms round him.

“No, lad. Don't look.”

With shaking hands Ignatius finished unwrapping the parcel. Being careful that only he could see what was within, he slowly lifted the cardboard lid, and Jonathan watched as all color drained from Ignatius's face. The vicar closed the box, sat at the table, and wept silently, pounding the scarred wood every few seconds with his fist.

Watching the awful pain on Ignatius's gentle face was almost impossible for Jonathan to bear. “What's in the box?” he begged, struggling to release himself from Grimm's grip. “What's Belial done?”

Ignatius got up and stood by Jonathan. Wiping tears of fury from his eyes, he took a deep breath and composed himself. “It doesn't matter,” he croaked. “Only what we do next matters.”

“But—”

“No!”
shouted Ignatius. “No
but
s. No
if
s. I know things seem hopeless, but I know your grandfather. He's been standing beside me every day of my life. I
know
him. There's one thing he said to me that I've never forgotten: ‘There's no point getting old if you don't get crafty.' He hasn't given in. He has a plan. Now, what do you think we should do?”

Jonathan already knew the answer—he wanted nothing more than to take this fight to Belial, and now he had the chance.

“I'm going to go fetch Gabriel's clock,” he said. “And when I meet Belial I'm going to shove it down his throat!”

“Attaboy,” chortled Grimm. “As soon as I fix her, Isobel will have an appointment with Belial that that demon really isn't going to like!” Grinning so widely, it looked as though his head might split, he gave a practice swing with an imaginary cricket bat.

Elgar jumped onto Grimm's shoulders. “I second that statement. I'll bite him on the bum so hard, he'll never be able to sit down again!”

Then something occurred to Jonathan. “What did Gabriel mean when he said I'd need the watch he gave to me?”

“I'm not sure,” said Ignatius. “But Gabriel wouldn't have mentioned it unless it was important. Regardless, it means that something of your grandfather's is always with you, and that's a good thing.”

“Yes,” said Jonathan. “It's a good thing.”

 

“We're going along too, and that's final,” said Montgomery. “Aren't we, Mr. Stubbs?”

“Hell, yes! I've missed one fight, and I'm not passing up the chance to find myself another. Gargoyle honor is at stake!”

Ignatius sighed, but he couldn't help a smile. “Okay then, boys, down you come. You're nowhere near recharged yet, but I'm not going to stop you if this is what you want to do.”

“But what if you can't get through this door of Gabriel's?” asked Jonathan as Montgomery and Stubbs landed on the drive in front of him. “He said that only someone of his bloodline could enter.”

“He helped make us, and we're not actually alive,” said Montgomery. “So we're going to give it a shot.”

“Yeah,” said Stubbs. “If we can't go with you, then we'll sulk for England, but at least we tried.”

“What he said,” agreed Montgomery.

Elgar sat by Jonathan's legs, unusually quiet.

“What's up?” asked Jonathan.

“If I'm not there to keep you out of trouble, then who knows what'll happen! I'm just annoyed that I can't go with you, that's all.”

“I know, cat,” said Jonathan. “Come on, let's get to Gabriel's cottage. The sooner I fetch the clock, the sooner we can stop Belial. It's time I took the fight to him!”

Chapter 19

Cay sat on the bed and thought about her parents. It was easier to think of them at home worried about her than it was to think about the danger she and Gabriel were in. And she knew Belial wasn't joking. If someone didn't arrive with the clock, then she and Gabriel were dead meat. Or, more accurately, several neatly wrapped boxes of dead meat. The thought made her shudder as the minutes ticked by.

Gabriel still sat in a chair by the window, staring sightlessly at the afternoon sky. Cay was saddened to see how frail he looked, the bandages wrapped around his head only increasing his apparent helplessness.

“Will you be strong enough to fight Belial?” she asked.

“I don't know,” he replied.

“Oh,” said Cay, hugging her hands to her chest.

“Does that worry you?” asked Gabriel.

“Yes, it does!” said Cay. “How can you stop him when you're . . .”

“Broken? Appearances can be deceptive, Cay.”

“I hope so,” she said. “Or we've had it!”

Gabriel laughed. As Cay watched, some of the weariness fell away from his face. She had no idea how the old angel could be so sure of himself, but she hoped he was right. She walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Do you know what my favorite thing in the whole world is?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Flying. To slip the surly bonds of earth and dance the skies on laughter-silvered wings. I haven't been able to fly since my fall. I chose to create Hobbes End, and in giving away so much power I knew that I'd never fly again. I'll never regret that decision, but sometimes . . .”

A thought occurred to Cay. “What will happen when Jonathan brings your clock to Belial in exchange for us? He'll have everything he wants, and then he'll kill us anyway.”

“Possibly,” said Gabriel, a curious look on his face. “But you never know. The cavalry may ride in to save us at the last minute. Do you know what a deus ex machina is, Cay?”

She shook her head.

“It's Latin. It's when, against all logic, some divine intervention or miraculous happening saves the day. It literally means ‘god from a machine
.
'”

“Is that what we're hoping for? A miracle?”

Gabriel smiled. “Funny things, miracles,” he said. “Sometimes they actually happen.”

“That's not very reassuring,” she said.

“No, I suppose it isn't,” he replied. “Have faith, Cay.”

With a sigh of frustration she leaned against the windowsill. In silence she kept Gabriel company as she watched the sun pass its zenith and begin its slow journey toward the horizon. The shadows lengthened, and Cay prayed that Gabriel's optimism wasn't just wishful thinking.

Chapter 20

Jonathan stood amid the broken glass and scattered books in Gabriel's workroom. Behind him, Ignatius and Grimm waited quietly. Jonathan was glad they were there; he just hoped that he wouldn't let them down. So much hinged on what he did next.

“Where's this door, then?” asked Elgar.

“How about this?” said Stubbs, walking over to the gable wall where a plain wooden door with a brass doorknob lay flush with the brick. He rapped on it with his knuckles. There was a hollow, booming sound. “Perhaps it's a wardrobe?”

“Yeah, and we all know what happens to children who go ferreting around in magical wardrobes, don't we?” said Elgar, jumping onto the workbench. “They grow up in some faraway land, accidentally find their way back home, realize they're only twelve again, and spend the next two years in therapy.”

Jonathan laughed despite himself.

The cat nodded toward the door. “Do you think that's what Gabriel was talking about?”

Jonathan looked around the room. The walls were covered with racks of clock parts and boxes of junk, but there was no other door that he could see. “I guess it's a good place to start,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ah, the optimism of youth,” said the cat. “I'm laying odds that all you'll find when you open that door is a couple of brooms, a foot of brickwork, and a two-meter
drop into the churchyard.”

“Okay, then,” said Jonathan. He strode forward, turned the doorknob, and pulled.

Bright light flooded into the attic, and everyone gasped. It was difficult to see clearly, but through the door Jonathan thought he could see a huge swath of white sand.

“Me first,” said Stubbs, bounding through the door before anyone could stop him.

Montgomery put his hands over his eyes. “Are you dead?” he shouted to his friend.

“Nah,” said Stubbs. “You really need to come have a look at this!”

“How's it possible?” Jonathan gasped, still staring through the doorway.

“There's no way you're doing this without me,” said Elgar. “I don't care what Gabriel said about bloodlines.”

“I think—” said Montgomery, raising a cautionary finger, but he was too late to stop the cat from taking a run at the doorway.