The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,49
going on about all these... these amazing places, and they sound so exotic and exciting and... I never thought I’d get to see any of them. So I just listened. And I’ve been listening for a long time.”
Angelo appeared at Zac’s back. “That’s OK,” he said cheerfully. “We don’t have a clue where we’re going, either. She can still come, can’t she?”
Zac searched Herya’s face. “She doesn’t want to,” he said at last. “Do you?”
Herya met his gaze just briefly. She shook her head. “Guess I’m not as tough as I say I am. I’ve never even been in a real fight before. Some warrior, huh?”
Zac didn’t quite know what to say. “What will you do?” he asked.
“Go back to Asgard,” Herya said. “Face my punishment. Hope they take me back.”
“We could still use you,” Zac told her. “You knew about these places. It doesn’t matter how you knew. You knew about them. We could use your help getting the book back.” Zac glanced back at the others and lowered his voice. “I could use your help.”
Herya drew in a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted, and her voice cracked with the weight of the word. “I don’t want to go to Hell. I don’t want to die. Not for the sake of some book.”
“It’s not just some book.”
She smiled sadly. “It is to me.”
“But... the team,” whimpered Angelo. “You can’t break up the team!”
Zac leaned back and folded his arms. “Forget it, Angelo. She’s made her mind up.”
“But... but, the team!”
“There is no team,” Zac snapped, suddenly angry. Angelo took a startled step back. “Don’t you get it? There’s me doing the work and then there’s you tagging along and getting in the way.”
He saw the wounded look on Angelo’s face and felt that pang of guilt in his chest again. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, but there was no denying the facts. “I’m the one they picked to get the book back. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“You do need this, though,” said Argus, holding up a small black rucksack and grinning like some demented clown. “It may be of assistance. Usually it is not possible to bring things with you in or out of Hell, but anything inside this bag will make it through. I have placed some eyes in there. Once you are inside, you know what to do, yes?”
“I know what to do,” said Zac, swinging a strap of the bag over his shoulder.
“Are you sure I cannot tempt you with some weapons?” the demon asked. “A flaming sword or two, maybe?”
“They’ll just get in the way,” Zac said. “The plan is to sneak in and out. If we get caught, then it’s game over. Swords won’t help.”
“You are wise beyond your years,” Argus acknowledged. He lifted his tiny fez in salute, then replaced it on his head. “And you are right, of course. But perhaps you will take this, at least?”
He passed over a leather case about the size of a small laptop computer. A slim buckle held it closed. Zac unclipped it and the case fell open.
“A gun?”
“A tranquilliser pistol,” Argus said. “The darts, they are tipped with a unique blend of draughts and potions. They will send a manticore to sleep for a week, and they will do the same for any demons you meet.”
Zac took the pistol from the case and tossed it from hand to hand, assessing the weight. “How many darts are in it?”
“Eight,” Argus said. “This is all I have. The materials required for the poison are not easy to come by.”
Zac tucked the gun into a fold inside his jacket. “Right,” he said. “And, well... thanks.”
“Do not thank me, Zac Corgan,” Argus said. “It is you who are doing me the favour, yes? Deliver my eyes. Find your book.”
“I will.”
“Well, yiassas,” Argus said, then he leaned in and pecked Zac on both cheeks. “Yiassas, Angelo,” he continued, moving to kiss him too.
“Ugh, get off!” Angelo yelped, ducking for cover behind Zac. “I’m not kissing a demon!”
Argus looked puzzled. “What? But you are—”
“Leaving,” said Zac hurriedly. “He’s leaving. We both are. Right now.”
Herya was suddenly standing beside them. Zac turned to her.
“Changed your mind?”
“No,” the Valkyrie replied. “I was just going to wish you luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Zac told her. “Come on, Angelo. We’re going.”
He turned and made for the lift. Angelo hung back. He started to close in on Herya for a hug, then thought better of it and just waved instead. “Bye, then,” he said,