Gabriel's Clock (22 page)

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Authors: Hilton Pashley

BOOK: Gabriel's Clock
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Brass snorted again, and Jonathan took a step toward the altar. The dragon's jaws slammed shut just in front of Jonathan's face, taking the skin off the end of his nose.

“Ahhhhhh!” he screamed, dropping to his knees in terror.

There was a blur of motion and an almighty
clang
as Stubbs flew past Jonathan and thumped the dragon right on the end of his snout.
“Bad Brass!”
shouted Stubbs.
“Naughty Brass!”

“We are going to die,” said Elgar, putting his paws over his eyes.

Rather than flying into a rage and tearing them all apart, Brass seemed rather taken aback. It retreated from the furious Stubbs, but the bass rumble in its chest made it very clear that anyone who made a grab for the clock was going to get eaten.

Montgomery helped a shaking Jonathan to his feet. “Why did it do that?” he asked the gargoyle.

“I don't know,” said Montgomery. “And it's not an
it,
it's a
she.
She's a construct, just like me and Stubbs.”

“How do you know it's a she?” asked Elgar.

“I just do, okay!” replied Montgomery. “It's a construct thing.”

Jonathan looked at the watch on his wrist. It was after three. Almost half their time was gone. He racked his brain. How to get Brass to let them take the clock before it was too late?

It was then Jonathan had an idea. He undid Gabriel's watch from his wrist and held it up for Brass to see. The dragon sniffed it and shifted to one side, but she still seemed reluctant to let Jonathan past. It was as if she wanted to but couldn't until something else happened.

A stray shaft of starlight clipped the watch as it dangled in the air, and Jonathan realized he'd had the answer all along. It was engraved on the watch's back plate.

“Deus ex machina!” he shouted.

Brass uncoiled herself from the altar and stood aside. It almost looked like she was smiling.

“Hurrah!” said Montgomery, high-fiving Stubbs with a
donk
sound.

Jonathan slowly walked forward, but Brass gave no indication that she would interfere. He sighed with relief. “I knew Gabriel was trying to tell me something when he said I'd need the watch. He wanted to make sure I brought it with me.”

In front of him, the crystal globe of Gabriel's clock hung in the air waiting to be picked up. It sounded like it was singing to itself. Jonathan reached out with shaking hands and pulled the clock toward him, hugging it to his chest.

“Phew!” said Elgar. “Right, how do we get home?”

“I guess we have to get back to where we came in,” said Jonathan. “We need to get a move on; we don't have much time left.”

They turned to leave, but Montgomery stayed where he was. “What about Brass?” he said. “We can't just leave her here. She'll be all lonely.”

Jonathan could see the dragon's eyes blazing in the darkness. “That's a good point, Monty. Brass, would you like to—”

Before Jonathan could say anything else, an awful rending sound echoed through the tower. Chunks of stone rained down as the ground heaved and bucked, sending them sprawling. Jonathan held the clock tightly to his chest so it wouldn't fall and break.

“Oh, now what?” howled Elgar.

Stubbs picked himself up and ran to the tower entrance. “Oh dear,” he said, pointing to the sky. “That's not good, is it?”

Jonathan ran after him and looked up to see myriad rips appear in the energy dome. This time they didn't steady and close. They began to widen. Beneath them, twisting columns of sand shot upward and began venting into space. Air whistled past Jonathan's head, and the tower let out a tortured shriek.

“We're too late!” gasped Jonathan. “The dome's collapsing; we'll never get back to the door before this place rips itself apart.”

A snort from behind him made Jonathan turn. Brass barged past and craned her neck to look at the chaos high above; nestled in the hollow between her enormous shoulders crouched Montgomery and Elgar.

“I think she wants to give us a lift,” the cat said, grinning.

Jonathan stared in astonishment as the dragon used one of her claws to scoop him and Stubbs up before dropping them onto her back.

“I don't think she can fly,” Montgomery shouted, “but I bet she can run!”

Jonathan was about to agree when an explosion ripped through the air beside him, closely followed by another and then another. Stone shards pinged off Brass's hide as the flying buttresses that supported the tower finally gave way.

“Giddyup!” cried Elgar.

Brass looked at the cat with a raised eyebrow but did as she was asked. With a lurch that almost unseated Jonathan, the dragon launched herself forward like a shell from a howitzer. With one arm holding on to the clock and the other gripping the scales on Brass's back, Jonathan could only stare, wide-eyed, as the dragon thundered into the maelstrom of sand and howling wind.

From behind them, an impossibly tall shadow threw itself along their path.

“Brass, the tower!” cried Jonathan. “It's falling toward us!”

The dragon snorted, glanced over her shoulder, and increased her speed. She may as well have been flying, as her feet didn't seem to touch the ground.

Jonathan didn't dare look at the destruction that followed them. He knew it was pointless; he just prayed they could find the door before they were either flattened or sucked into space. The ground shook, and all around them tornadoes of sand spiraled upward.

“Where's the door?”
he shouted.

“There!” bellowed Montgomery, clinging to one of Brass's ears and pointing ahead of them. The dragon dipped her nose and gave one last burst of speed as Jonathan finally saw the exit. As they drew near, the door banged open to reveal the startled faces of Ignatius and Grimm. The two men took one look at what was thundering toward them and fled from Gabriel's workroom as fast as they could.

Unable to stop himself, Jonathan cast one last look over his shoulder. Directly above him, the pinnacle of the tower hung in the air, its incredible weight only seconds away from grinding them all to pulp.

“We're not going to fit!”
yowled Elgar.

“I don
'
t think Brass cares,” Stubbs shouted back.

Without breaking stride, the dragon wrapped her wings over her body, covering everyone who clung to her back. Trying to make herself as small as possible, she hit the doorway at full speed just as the tower finally crashed to the ground.

For a moment, all was darkness and choking brick dust. Jonathan couldn't see anything, but against his chest he cradled Gabriel's clock, and right now that was all that mattered.

There was a rumbling of masonry, and the bright sunlight of a summer afternoon made him blink. He looked up and saw two huge wings unfold into the air of Hobbes End, scattering bricks, wood, and thatch in all directions. Behind him, Brass snorted and shook dust from her head. The dragon had shielded them from the cottage's destruction.

An amazed Ignatius appeared in front of him and reached down to help Jonathan up.

“Now that is what I call an entrance!” He grinned. Then he saw what Jonathan was cradling in his arms, and his eyes widened in relief and astonishment.

“You, my boy,” he said, “are a credit to your grandfather.”

At Jonathan's feet, Elgar and the gargoyles dusted themselves off and gazed skyward.

“And where do you propose that
she
stay?” asked Elgar, waving a paw at Brass.

“I have absolutely no idea,” said Ignatius, shaking his head.

From around the corner of the church the inhabitants of Hobbes End ran toward the wreckage of Gabriel's cottage. Given that they were greeted by the sight of a massive mechanical dragon towering above them, they all took it rather well.

Mr. Flynn walked up to them, his arm linked with that of his wife. He glanced up at Brass and smiled. “Hello, young man,” he said to Jonathan. “Would your new friend like a sherbet lemon?”

Chapter 21

A G
LIMMER OF
H
OPE

Trapped in her well-appointed prison, Cay lay on the bed and watched Gabriel as he stared into space. He looked gray, and his body was shaking with effort. It was as if he was concentrating on something to the exclusion of all else, something that was taking all his remaining strength to control.

With a sudden gasp Gabriel stood up and leaned against the window, arms outstretched and palms flat against the glass. Sweat ran down his face to soak into the bandages that wrapped his ruined eyes. He drew a ragged breath.

“Well done, grandson,” he said, slumping back into his chair. The room filled with the scent of apples and beeswax, and Cay watched as Gabriel visibly relaxed. A look of serenity settled over him, and he gave her an exhausted smile. “Jonathan's found the clock,” he said to Cay. “For a minute there I didn't think I had the strength to keep my hiding place intact.”

Cay's heart leaped in her chest, and she sprang from the bed to stand by Gabriel. Whatever he'd been doing had cost him dearly; he'd shrunk into himself somehow, become less than he was.

“That's brilliant!” she said. “But what about you? You look so tired.”

“I haven't left Hobbes End in over three hundred years,” he said. “The farther I'm away from it, the weaker I become and the more difficult it is to maintain that which I've built. I had to give Jonathan time to fetch the clock from where I'd hidden it, but . . . it was hard.”

“Will you be all right?” asked Cay, kneeling beside the angel and squeezing his hand.

Gabriel nodded. “I will now,” he said. “My grandson is coming, and Belial will pay the price for what he has done. Together Jonathan and I will teach that archdemon what it is to be afraid.”

Chapter 22

M
EANWHILE,
B
ACK AT THE
V
ICARAGE . . .

“Is Brass going to be all right?” asked Jonathan as he stood by Grimm's Daimler.

“I think so,” said Grimm. “She seems to be sleeping happily in what's left of Gabriel's cottage. As long as Professor Morgenstern doesn't keep prodding Brass to find out how she works, then I think everything should be okay. Ignatius, we've got ten minutes to make our rendezvous!”

Jonathan watched as the vicar of Hobbes End helped the obviously tired gargoyles back onto their gateposts.

“You've done the family proud, boys,” said the vicar, patting them fondly on their heads. They beamed with pleasure at having been of use and gave Ignatius crisp salutes.

“Ta very much,” said Stubbs.

“Yes, thanks awfully,” agreed Montgomery.

“You two need some rest,” said Ignatius. “You've earned it. Oh, and Mr. Stubbs?”

“Yes?”

“We'll find a way to fix your ear. Don't worry.”

Stubbs grinned happily, and the gargoyles settled into position, stretched, and yawned.

“We had an adventure, didn't we, Mr. Stubbs?” said Montgomery to his friend.

“Indeed we did, Mr. Montgomery,” replied Stubbs. “Indeed we did.”

Within seconds they were both fast asleep and snoring like foghorns.

Ignatius joined everyone in the Daimler but stuck his head out the window to say goodbye to Angus McFadden and the rest of the villagers who stood with him.

“We'll be back soon,” he said, meaning every word.

“Aye,” said Angus. “We have a wee beastie to keep an eye on things while you're gone. Give that archdemon a proper Hobbes End welcome, won't ye?”

“Count on it,” said Ignatius.

“Ready?” asked Grimm.

“Ready,” said Ignatius. He looked at the bowler hat that Grimm was wearing. “Was that Rook's?” he asked.

“Yep,” said Grimm. “What do you think?”

Ignatius pondered for a moment. “Suits you,” he replied.

Grimm beamed happily and started the engine.

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