The Book of Doom (24 page)

HE DARK LORD
Satan, Father of All Lies, cleared his throat politely.

“Would someone care to tell me what’s going on?”

Philip turned to look at Satan. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, and just then, just for a moment, it wasn’t Zac’s granddad sitting in the chair. It was someone older. Much older. As old, in fact, as time itself.

The air around him crackled in a blaze of light so blinding that Zac was forced to shield his eyes. Phillip spoke, and when he did, his voice seemed to roll in from every direction at once.

“
You
,” he said, and the whole world shook with the power of it. “Don’t I know you?”

Satan licked his lips, which had suddenly become very dry. “What, me?” he said, brushing his fingers through his hair and hiding the stumps of his horns. “Um... nope. Don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

The light stuttered and faded, and Phillip became his old self again. Zac glanced at the others. Only himself and Satan seemed to have noticed the change that had come over his grandfather.

He quit
. That’s what Angelo had said. Almost one hundred years ago, he’d quit. And nobody knew where he went.

Phillip gazed across the group. “Zac, who are these people?” he asked. “Why’s that one got wings? And why’s he in fancy dress?”

“Fancy dress?” growled Haures. He lunged at Phillip. “I’ll show you fancy dress, you old—”

As his hand touched the old man, the demon popped like a bubble and disappeared. Silence fell. Satan shuffled his feet.

“Well, this is awkward,” he mumbled.

There was a faint
whoosh
from the back of the room. They all turned to see Gabriel and Michael step out of thin air.

“Who’s this pair now?” Phillip frowned. “Where did they come from?”

“Good afternoon,” said Gabriel, his smile as false as ever. He nodded in Satan’s direction. “And look here, if it isn’t the Prince of Darkness himself. We were informed you were on Earth, but we didn’t believe it. And yet here you are.”

“Gabriel. Michael,” acknowledged Satan. “How’s tricks?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” Gabriel shrugged. “Can’t complain. Do you have the book?”

“What book?”

Michael growled and took a step towards the Dark Lord, but Gabriel blocked his path. “You know very well which book,” Gabriel smiled. “Our book. The
Book of Everything
.”

“Oh, the
Book of Doom
, you mean.” Satan breathed on his black fingernails and brushed them against his suit jacket. “We never had it. It was all just a trick. We only wanted the boy, and you fell for it. Too trusting, that’s your problem. Well, one of them, anyway.”

Gabriel’s eye twitched. He glanced across at Angelo, who immediately took cover behind Zac and Herya.

“Quite,” the archangel said. “But of course you realise that if that’s the case, then the deal is off. You did not give us the book, and so you do not get the boy. He shall return with us.”

“No, he won’t.”

Satan and the archangels turned at the sound of Zac’s voice.

“I beg your pardon?” said Gabriel.

“He’s not going with you, and he’s not going with him, either.”

Angelo tugged him by the sleeve. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “You’re going to get into trouble!”

Zac pointed at Gabriel. “You tried to make him an angel.” He pointed at Satan. “You tried to make him a demon. But he doesn’t belong in Heaven, and he doesn’t belong in Hell. He belongs here.”

Gabriel laughed falsely. “Here? Among humans? Don’t be ludicrous.”

“He’s halfway between angel and demon. Halfway between good and evil. That sounds pretty much human to me.”

Satan gave a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Gabe,” he smirked.

“Oh, I think not,” Gabriel sighed. He gestured to Michael. “Seize the boy.”

Zac stood his ground. “You’ll have to get through me.”

“And me,” added Herya. “Although I don’t actually have any idea what’s going on here,” she admitted. “But I really enjoyed punching people in the face earlier, and I’d like to do it again.”

“Twice the fun,” said Michael, drawing his sword. His eyes shone as he lunged with the blade straight towards Zac’s chest.

“
Don’t you dare hurt my grandson!”
Phillip cried in that voice that boomed from everywhere. Michael’s attack faltered.

The angel stared down at the object he was holding in his hand. It had been a sword. He was absolutely certain that it had been a sword.

“Michael,” began Gabriel quietly, “why are you brandishing an ice-cream cone?”

“It’s... it’s a sword,” Michael insisted, refusing to believe what the mounting evidence was telling him. “It’s a big sword with fire on it.”

“It’s a mint-choc-chip ice cream,” said Zac. “And I’d
really
advise against letting it drip on my granddad’s carpet.”

Michael stepped back. He looked around for somewhere to put the cone. Finding nowhere, he licked it instead, and discovered that he really quite enjoyed mint choc chip.

Gabriel shot Zac a questioning look. “How did you do that?” he asked.

“Trade secret,” Zac lied. “Just a little trick I picked up on my travels.”

The archangel looked at the ice-cream cone, then he looked down at Phillip, still sitting in his armchair. It was a long time before he met Zac’s gaze again. “I see,” he said almost inaudibly. “Very interesting.”

“Angelo stays here,” said Zac. “He stays here and you leave him alone.” He looked over at Satan. “
Everyone
leaves him alone.”

Gabriel and the Dark Lord exchanged a glance. “Very well,” said Gabriel. “You win. The boy will stay here.”

Angelo leaped out from behind Zac and began body-popping once again. “Oooh yeah, I’m staying, I’m staying, I’m staying here. I’m staying, I’m—”

“You, of course,” continued Gabriel, directing his smile firmly in Zac’s direction, “shall return with Satan to Hell, whereupon your punishment shall commence immediately, and continue for all eternity. I trust the Dark Lord will take a special interest in your case.”

Satan shot Phillip a quick glance, but the old man didn’t appear to be paying much attention. The Father of All Lies’ forked tongue flicked hungrily across his teeth. “Oh, you betcha,” he said, but he kept his voice low so Phillip wouldn’t hear.

Angelo stopped dancing. “Wait... what?”

“You can’t do that,” gasped Herya.

Zac turned and looked at his granddad, but that shadowy confusion was back behind Phillip’s eyes. Whatever had awoken within him had now gone back to sleep.

“They can,” Zac said. “I died. That’s how I got back into Hell in the first place.”

Tears sprang into Angelo’s eyes. “No, but... but...”

“It’s OK, Angelo,” Zac told him. “I knew this would happen.”

“Wait... what’s happening now?” asked Phillip.

Zac knelt beside him. “I’m going away again, Granddad.”

“What, again?” said the old man. “Make up your mind, will you?”

Zac smiled and patted Phillip’s hand. “Angelo’s going to stay here. He’ll look after you. Look after him too, will you?”

He stood up and turned to face the rest of the room. “Right, then,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“It’s not fair,” sobbed Angelo, throwing his arms round Zac and holding on tight. “There has to be something we can do. There
has
to be.”

“Well, there isn’t,” said Gabriel quickly. “Satan will take you to the underworld. Off you pop.”

“No!” Angelo wailed.

“It’s tragic, I know,” Gabriel agreed, “but there’s nothing that can be done. Our hands are tied.”

“Fair enough,” said Zac. He held out his wrists, ready to be led away. Just as Satan reached for them, though, he pulled back. “Unless...” Zac said, watching Gabriel closely, “What’s the Right of Enosh”

Gabriel’s left eye twitched. Michael paused, mid lick, then lowered the ice-cream cone from his mouth.

“Never heard of it,” said Gabriel. “Now if there are no further delays...”

“Wait!” Angelo cried. “The Right of Enosh! I’ve read about that. The Right of Enosh. The right to challenge Death for your soul. Remember?”

Gabriel’s eye twitched so violently this time it made his whole head shake. Satan let out a low groan.

Zac frowned. “What? You mean you can really challenge Death? I thought that was just in movies.”

“No!” laughed Angelo. “It’s real. It’s real, isn’t it, Gabriel?”

Gabriel glared raw hatred at Angelo. “Why, yes,” he said, through his fixed smile. “The Right of Enosh. How could I have forgotten? Those who request it may be given the opportunity to challenge Death to a game of chess. Win and you will be restored to life.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then you will be cast into Hell.”

Zac shrugged. “Well, I’ll do that, then.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I’m already going to Hell anyway, so yeah. Why not?”

“Well, yes, there is that,” admitted Gabriel. “But if you lose you’ll... go for longer.”

“What, longer than all eternity?”

There was a pause. “Yes,” said Gabriel through gritted teeth. He was trying to hold his smile in place, but it was a losing battle.

“Let’s give it a bash anyway,” said Zac, and he saw what little remained of Gabriel’s grin fall away.

“Right, fine,” Gabriel snapped. He clicked his fingers. There was a soft
pop
, and a school desk appeared in the middle of the living room. Zac recognised the boy sitting behind it as the one he’d met in the shed in Limbo. Drake looked up from the sheet of paper in front of him.

“Um. Hi,” he said.

“I give up,” mumbled Phillip, whose already slender grasp on reality was being tested to the limit.

Drake looked at the faces staring down at him. “Hey, you’re that guy with the book,” he said, recognising Zac.

“That’s me,” Zac replied.

Drake smiled weakly. “You all right?”

“Yeah, not bad, not bad,” Zac replied. “Dead, though.”

“What, properly?”

“Yeah.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. Listen, we were wondering, can you play chess?”

Drake shook his head. “Nah.”

Gabriel tutted sharply. “Well, can you learn?” he demanded.

“When for?” Drake asked.

“Now, ideally.”

Drake looked down at the paper in front of him. “Not really,” he said. “I’m doing a maths test. Actually, that’s a point. Does anyone know what the square root of—”

Gabriel clicked his fingers and the desk vanished again. “Right, you win,” he sighed. “Your life is restored, the messy remains you left on the pavement will be disposed of and no one will ever remember finding them.”

“And Angelo stays here,” Zac reminded him.

“Yes, yes,” said Gabriel vaguely. He made a cryptic gesture with his hand, and reality parted a few dozen centimetres. “Come, Michael,” he scowled, “we must return and continue our search for the book.”

“That you off, then?” asked Phillip. He still had no idea what was going on, but he knew where his manners were. “Safe journey home.”

Gabriel paused at the gap in space. He turned and gazed at Phillip. For a long time, he just gazed.

“Indeed,” he said at last, then he stepped through the gap and Michael stepped through after him. There was a sound like a zip being done up, and the hole closed over.

“I suppose I’d best be off as well,” said Satan brightly. “Getting a new kitchen fitted this afternoon. Right bunch of cowboys doing it. Don’t trust them as far as I could throw them. Although I could actually throw them quite a long way if the wind was right.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea?” Phillip asked vaguely. Satan gave a throaty chuckle and winked at Zac.

“Never changes, does he? No, I won’t bother. Some other time, maybe.”

He looked Angelo up and down. “Shame,” was all he said, then he clicked his fingers and vanished in a puff of red smoke.

And with that, silence fell on the living room.

“Right, then,” said Phillip, finally breaking the spell. “Let’s have
that cuppa.”

Zac, Angelo and Herya stood in the kitchen, their mugs in their hands. Phillip was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Does he know?” Herya asked.