The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,35
rat-creature had gone.
ABRIEL SAT BEHIND a long walnut desk, writing neatly in the hardback notebook he used as a journal. With a final flourish, he finished the day’s entry, and carefully set the quill pen down on the desktop.
He blew softly on the ink to dry it, then closed the book and slipped it into a drawer. Finally, he laced his fingers together in front of him and looked towards the door. A moment later it opened and Michael entered.
“Good afternoon, Michael,” Gabriel said. “What may I do for you?”
“He’s been asking questions,” Michael barked.
“Who?”
“The Metatron; who do you think?” Michael stopped in front of Gabriel’s desk. His entire body was vibrating with barely contained rage. “He’s looking for a progress report.”
Gabriel leaned back in his leather chair. “Is he? And did you give him one?”
“Course I didn’t. I’m not an idiot,” Michael spat. “But he knew we’d sent the half-blood down with the human.”
A flicker of concern crossed Gabriel’s face. “Did he? And how did you respond to that?”
“I told him he volunteered to show the mortal the way. Told him he was only going as far as the entrance, then he was leaving him to it and coming back up here.”
Gabriel gave an approving nod. “Quick thinking.”
“Don’t patronise me,” Michael snarled. “Do you know what the Metatron will do if he realises we’re lying to him?”
“He won’t,” Gabriel said. “Besides, even if he does, I’ll have the book by then.”
“We’ll have the book.”
“Quite. And once we have the book then we will have the knowledge, and when we have the knowledge, we will have the power. And when we have the power –” Gabriel rose to his feet – “we shall be gods.”
HEY SAT ON the floor, their backs against different pillars, listening to the distant howling of the things in the fog. It wasn’t cold in the hut – no colder than it was outside, anyway – but even Zac felt a shiver travel the length of his spine as a flash of lightning briefly made the curtains glow purple.
“What time is it?” Angelo asked. “I’ve lost my watch somewhere.”
Zac looked at the watch Gabriel had given him. “It says twenty-seven,” he said. “So make of that what you like.”
“It’s local time,” Angelo explained. “The watch adjusts to the right time wherever you are.”
“Right,” Zac said, then he shrugged. “Well, it’s twenty-seven o’clock, then.”
Angelo looked around the hut and nodded approvingly. “So now we know what twenty-seven o’clock looks like. How many people can say that?”
“You should get some sleep,” Zac urged. “Both of you. I’ll stand guard.”
“I don’t need sleep,” Angelo said. “So I’ll stand guard too.”
“Nor do I,” Herya said.
“Great!” cheered Angelo. “All three of us can stay up! It’ll be like a sleepover, but without any sleeping. Just talking for hours and hours and having a laugh.”
Zac’s heart sank. “Great.”
“What should we do to pass the time? Oh, I know, let’s play I Spy!”
“No, let’s not—”
“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with –” Angelo looked around the cramped hut – “curtains. No! Wait, I mean C. Something beginning with C!”
“Curtains,” said Herya.
“Well done. Herya got it. Your turn.”
“I spy with my little eye—”
“Seriously?” sighed Zac. “You’re really going along with this?”
“Well, what else do you suggest?” asked the Valkyrie. She shifted her weight and a flicker of pain crossed her face.
“You should let me look at that,” Zac said, nodding to the wound on her wing.
“Forget it, it’s fine.”
“It might get infected.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Suit yourself.”
The Valkyrie’s leather outfit creaked as she shifted again, trying to avoid putting her weight against her wing. “Tell me about this book,” she said. “What’s so important about it?”
“It’s the Book of Everything,” Angelo said.
“What’s it about?”
“Have a guess,” said Zac. “There’s a clue somewhere in the title.”
“It’s about everything,” gushed Angelo. “Everything that has ever happened, everything that’s going to happen and everything that’s happening right now.”
Herya thought about this. “So what? Are we in it?”
Zac shrugged. “Probably.”
Herya looked pleased. “I’ve always wanted to be in a book.”
“It’s really dangerous,” Angelo said. “If baddies get their hands on it, then they’ll know everything in the whole world. There’s no saying what they could do then. They could manipulate world leaders into starting a nuclear war, or kill all the good people before they were even born, or, or—”
“Get the winning lottery numbers?” Zac suggested.
Angelo’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t even thought of that!”
“Have you ever seen it?” Zac asked.
“Just once,” said Angelo.
“What did you see it