Gabriel's Clock

by Hilton Pashley

  “Why aren’t we all in mangled pieces?” mewled Elgar.

  “Why would my grandfather just send us here to be eaten?” said Jonathan. “This dragon is guarding the clock; we just have to figure out how to get past it.”

  Trying to stop his heart from beating its way out of his chest, he moved closer until he came eye to eye with the dragon. It shifted position again, and as it did so the shafts of starlight that pierced the ruined tower played over the massive body like so many torches. The scales that covered the dragon were actually thousands of overlapping metal plates, held in place with tiny rivets. Where the starlight brushed them the plates shone a deep burnished silver.

  Jonathan looked up and saw two vast wings, outstretched and gleaming. The delicacy of their construction was extraordinary—flexible metal panels hammered so thin, they were almost translucent, held in place by a complex framework of struts and pins. The creature was a work of art. And there on the dragon’s chest was a polished metal plaque with the word BRASS engraved on it, followed by a small capital G.

  “So you’re Brass,” Jonathan whispered in astonishment. The dragon snorted, and Jonathan assumed this meant yes. “And Gabriel built you and asked you to guard the clock?”

  Another snort.

  “Gabriel is my grandfather,” said Jonathan. “He’s a prisoner of the archdemon Belial, and he sent me here to fetch the clock. I have to take it to Gabriel or Belial will kill him, my father, and my friend Cay.”

  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 ag
ainst 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 GLIMMER OF HOPE

  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

  MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE VICARAGE . . .

  “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.

  Ignatius turned to look at the passengers in the back seat. “Everyone okay with what we’re about to do?”

  Mr. Forrester nodded. “Joanne’s upset that she’s too unwell to come with us. She said that if I don’t come back with our daughter, and with both of us in one piece, she’s going to kill me!”

  Ignatius grinned at him.

  “I’m ready,” said Jonathan, sitting next to Elgar with the clock on his lap.

  “You know my opinion,” said the cat. “Follow me, lads—I’m right behind you!”

  “Good,” said Ignatius. He turned to Grimm. “Let’s get cracking, shall we? Our escort should be outside the forest entrance.”

  “My pleasure,” said Grimm.

  As Belial had promised, they found Crow waiting for them in the black Rolls-Royce. Without ceremony the car sped away, Crow somehow managing to drive with only his left hand, leaving Grimm to follow at a distance. As they drove off, Jonathan stared at the clock in his lap. It was still humming and giving off pulses of light. Oddly, Jonathan realized that he wasn’t scared. Just the opposite, in fact. The nearer they got to the monster that had torn his life apart, the more angry he became. There was only one thing he was really afraid of, and that was being overwhelmed by the power inside him. He remembered what his grandfather had said to him when they’d talked in the church.

  What happens if I can’t control it?

  Then you turn into another Lucifer, and you end up destroying that which you profess to love.

  The thought that he might hurt someone he cared about, if he attacked Belial, scared him more than the thought of facing the archdemon himself.

  The two cars plowed on through country lanes for some time, dusk fell, and Grimm switched on the Daimler’s headlights. Occasionally they passed other vehicles, but as night fell even they ceased.

  Their journey ended suddenly as the Rolls-Royce slowed before turning left into a wide driveway. As the Daimler pulled in behind it, Jonathan could see a pair of huge wrought-iron gates hung from stone gateposts.

  “Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” mumbled Elgar as he peered out the car window.

  “That’s not very cheery,” said Grimm.

  “But what the spider doesn’t know,” Elgar continued, “is that the fly is really spoiling for a fight and has a cricket bat tucked down the back of its trousers!”

  “Did you manage to fix Isobel, then?” asked Jonathan.

  “Oh, yes,” said Grimm. “It’s amazing what you can do with some wood glue and a vice. Isobel is in the trunk and just waiting to be introduced to Belial.”

  The Daimler drove on as the gates swung shut behind them.


  They were now on enemy territory.

  Chapter 23

  BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

  Belial stared at the approaching cars through an upstairs window, his eyes blazing with unnatural hunger. Allowing himself a death’s-head smile, he turned away from the window and made his way to the large, elegantly decorated ballroom at the rear of the mansion. At the far end, before a huge picture window, two heavy wooden chairs had been placed on the floor. The one to the left was occupied by Cay, and the one to the right by Gabriel. They were both tied securely with lengths of rope.

  Cay shrank from Belial as he walked to stand between the two chairs; the awful smell that surrounded the archdemon was so strong, she had difficulty keeping her stomach under control. Gabriel sat quietly in his chair, but he turned to Cay and smiled reassuringly. “Whatever happens, do not fear,” he whispered.

  The large double doors set into the far wall banged open, and the one-armed Crow ushered the visitors from Hobbes End inside. Alert and unafraid, Jonathan walked in between Ignatius and Grimm. They strode forward until Crow blocked their path, hissing at them with a wide-open mouth full of jagged teeth. Jonathan glared at the demon with utter contempt while Ignatius stopped and tucked his pipe into the corner of his mouth.

  Grimm leaned forward and smiled menacingly at Crow. “Just one hat to go,” he said, pointing Isobel at the demon’s head. “Just the one.”

  Crow winced but refused to budge.

  A growl from Kenneth Forrester signaled that he’d seen his daughter where she sat tied to her chair.

  “It’s all right, Dad!” shouted Cay. “It’s going to be all right!”

  Jonathan smiled at Cay, but when he turned and saw the blood-encrusted bandage round his grandfather’s face, he knew what had been in the box that Belial had sent to them that morning. The simmering rage that had been building inside him was just seconds from tearing its way free when Gabriel gently shook his head. For a moment Jonathan didn’t think he could stop it, but by shutting his eyes and swallowing hard he somehow managed to avoid giving in to that awful voice that urged him to destroy.