And it was gone.
The light, the music, the Cup itself—all vanished in an instant.
Joby found that he could move again, but before he could so much as speak, Ben opened his eyes and turned to stare at Joby with such unfathomable joy and sadness and affection that Joby could only stare back in wonder, unsure if this were even still the friend he’d always known.
27
( Hellfire )
“I just feel like there must have been some reason,” Joby pressed as they were finishing the light supper Father Crombie had prepared after returning, or, in Crombie’s case, being returned, from the momentous gathering at Burl Creek. “I had it in my hands and didn’t drink? It makes no sense. I thought I had.”
“You mustn’t keep trying to assign meaning to that fact, Joby,” Father Crombie assured him. “It came all that way to find you of its own accord! Such a thing is unprecedented in all my years here. You held it in your hands. It spoke to you. Can you not see what that alone suggests about your worthiness?”
Ben listened with deeply mixed emotions. Crombie was right, of course, but, for once, Ben understood and shared Joby’s disappointment. It had quickly become clear that Joby had been shown none of what the Cup had shown to Ben about who the two of them and Laura really were—or had been once, at least. Would Joby have known also, if he’d put the chalice to his lips and drunk as Ben had? There was no way to know, but though Ben now felt sadly isolated from his friend and more than friend of several lifetimes, he was reluctant to tell Joby something of such gravity when the Grail had chosen not to.
“What you must understand, Joby,” Father Crombie continued, “is that the Grail is not just a sacred object, bestowed as some kind of reward or badge of honor. It is imbued with life itself, mind, will, and even temperament. If anything, it seems to function as a teacher, or a catalyst, existing to provide extraordinary intervention at extraordinary moments, and seeming to understand what’s needed far better than even those who have the need. If nothing else, you can be sure it came to give you some great gift tonight, not just to deprive you of a drink.” The old priest smiled.
“I know,” Joby said contritely, “and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. There’s nothing in my life this hasn’t changed, and I’ve been thinking about what I’m supposed to do now. I mean, there must be something, or why did this happen?”
“Love deeply,” Father Crombie replied. “Live fully and well. If you have some destiny beyond that, you’ll likely find it soonest by pursuing those two basic goals.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Joby said, “but I’ve also been thinking about what we came to ask you when we were kids.” Ben was pleased to notice that the self-scorn that had once accompanied the topic was completely absent now. “I mean, if it’s all real; God, the devil, the Grail even, then, do you think that dream I had was more than just . . . Was I really supposed to fight the devil somehow?”
“We are all fighting the devil somehow.” Crombie smiled. “Even those who seem mean or sinful are often struggling desperately against Lucifer’s influence in their lives. I have no reason to assume that you are an exception.”
Joby ducked his head self-consciously. “I guess Swami had a . . . premonition or something that I was going to be . . . well, needed somehow, to help protect Taubolt. What you said, about how Taubolt’s borders broke down when I showed up; I was thinking maybe that wasn’t something I caused, but something I was sent to . . . to fix, you know?”
“I will trust you with the truth, my friend.” Crombie smiled. “I am always very skeptical of assumptions about what God intends, even for myself, much less for others. I would suggest, therefore, that until you see some very clear task before you, and know with great conviction that it is truly and undeniably yours, you should be content with the two endeavors I just mentioned. Loving deeply and living well will prove challenging enough, I think, if those tasks are taken seriously.”
Ben could not help smiling at how well the old man knew Joby, and how wisely he employed that knowledge. Joby had always been eager to rush off to battle before nailing down the fort at home. . . . Or had that been Arthur?
“I’ve a little something in the kitchen for dessert, I think,” said Father Crombie, rising slowly from his chair.
“I can get it,” Joby said, rising as Ben did the same. “Just tell me where to look.”
“No, no. Sit down, both of you,” Crombie said with gruff amusement. “If I wanted to be fussed over in my own home, I’d have left the priesthood years ago and gotten married.” His grin widened as he turned to totter toward the kitchen. “I’ve been carried everywhere I went tonight. Makes me feel quite useless.”
In fact, it seemed to Ben that Crombie was walking more easily than usual tonight. He wondered if the Grail’s visit had benefited more than just himself and Joby.
When the priest had gone, Joby looked uncertainly at Ben, and said, “So . . . you seem to have come to better terms with all this.”
Ben didn’t have to ask what Joby meant.“Guess I put on quite a show, huh?”
Joby shrugged. “You did kind of surprise me. I mean, I’ve never seen you so . . .”
“Panicked?” Ben suggested ruefully.
“Yeah.” Joby grinned. “That would be the word, I guess.”
Ben nodded pensively. “Tonight was . . . I’ve always wished the world were a little stranger, Joby—more magical—ever since we were kids. But . . . until tonight, I never really thought it could be. I’ve made it through some tight spots in my life by sticking to the facts. For a while, once, I worked with this outfit guiding backpack trips for guys with more money than sense sometimes. I was good at putting imagination aside when things got hairy, and sticking to what was real. I s’pose that’s why I’ve been so impatient with you sometimes, Joby. I always thought if you’d just learn to deal with the real world, instead of all this . . . subjective stuff, things would be easier for everyone. Then, tonight, those facts I’ve always been so sure of just burned down and blew away.” He looked Joby squarely in the eye. “I owe you some pretty big apologies, Joby. I’ve got no more idea what’s real now than you do. Maybe I never did.”
Joby shook his head. “That real world of yours has been just what I needed at the worst times in my life, Ben. You owe me nothing.”
“Thanks,” Ben said, “for understanding.”
“You’re still not gonna tell me what you saw, huh?” Joby asked.
“Persistent, aren’t you,” Ben said, suddenly unable to look Joby in the eyes. He knew he couldn’t dodge the question forever, but still had no idea what to say. “I learned some things about who I really am,” he tried. “And . . . that’s all I’m ready to say yet. Okay?”
Joby searched his face as if trying to guess the rest. “Is there some reason why you think I shouldn’t know?” Joby pressed. “Something you think might hurt me?”
Ben suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. Two days ago, he’d have been scornful of such a typical “Joby” take on things, but Ben couldn’t kid himself about how he’d have felt if Joby had been the one to drink from that cup, and he had not. “I did learn something about you, actually,” Ben said.
“I thought so,” Joby said grimly, clearly braced to hear the worst.
“I learned that you’re the best of us,” Ben said. “Though I don’t expect you to believe me. That what you been so afraid to hear all night?” He grinned.
When Joby looked doubtful, Ben just laughed and shook his head. “You are such a piece of work, bro. I don’t know who did it to you, but they sure did it good.” The laughter left him suddenly as he heard his own remark. There was one part of what he’d learned that night that did need discussing with Joby, and the sooner the better. They still had time, thank God, to avert what had happened to all three of them before, and Ben had no intention of letting that chance get away from him.
Leaning forward earnestly, Ben said, “Joby, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this thing with Laura. We need to t
alk again as soon as possible. I’ve decided—”
Before he could go further, Father Crombie reappeared carrying a plate mounded with shortbread cookies. “Gladys gave me these,” said the old man, smiling. “They are food for younger stomachs than my own, however.”
“You’ll have one, at least, I hope.” Ben grinned. “We can’t just eat them all while you sit there watching.”
“I will likely eat them all if someone doesn’t stop me.” Crombie grinned back. “That’s why I am bringing them to you.”
Ben saw Joby looking at him with understandable curiosity, and felt bad to leave him dangling, but the subject had been broached now. They’d get back to it soon enough.
“Actually,” Father Crombie said, setting the cookies down between them as he lowered himself back into his chair and resumed the conversation they’d been having, “it was a bit unsettling to see the Cup arrive that way this evening; an uncomfortable reminder of what an independent treasure we’ve all grown so dependent on here. It’s been behaving very strangely now for several months, and made quite a spectacle of itself yesterday in front of that storefront preacher, Mr. Cotter. We’ve had to put someone on guard around the clock in the chapel now. Alfred Cognolio is in there as we speak, making sure no one enters who should not. I spoke to him after returning tonight, of course—just before you boys arrived—and he claims to have seen or heard nothing at all during the Cup’s excursion. Had no idea it had left. So much for security.
“It has been decided that the Cup must be moved to some location much farther from town,” Crombie said somberly. “We are considering our choices, but whichever is chosen, it will mean the end of my role as primary guardian. I am too frail to go far from the church anymore.”
“I’m so sorry,” Joby said.
“I agree with the Council’s decision, of course,” Crombie nodded, “and feel more privileged than I can say to have spent so many years in its presence. Still, I will miss—”
His voice was suddenly drowned out by Taubolt’s emergency siren.
With all the tourist traffic in Taubolt these days, the siren’s deafening wail was far less uncommon than it once had been, and at first they just fell silent. But when the siren continued instead of going off as usual after just a cycle or two, Crombie turned toward the rectory doors and murmured, “My goodness. What can be happening?”
“Let’s go out and see,” Joby said, rising from his chair.
“Got a pretty good view of town up here,” Ben agreed.
After helping Father Crombie to the door, they went out into the darkened yard and were shocked to see black smoke illuminated by the ruddy glow of flames billowing up just beyond the rectory garden fence.
“My God! It’s the church!” Joby gasped.
“Alfred!” Crombie barked. “He must be hurt, or he’d have come to warn us!”
“I’ll go check!” Ben called, running for the gate.
“Wait!” Crombie shouted. “If the Cup is still inside, I must get it!”
“If it’s there, I’ll get it!” Ben said, eager to be off. “Where is it kept?”
“No! You cannot breach the wards!” Crombie protested. “I must do it! Quickly, I need your help, boys!” He held his arms out for support as he hurried toward them with surprising speed, but still far too slowly.
Ben’s first thought was that Crombie was nuts, but he also realized that there was no place remotely closer than the rectory for this Alfred guy to have gone for help, or just to sound the alarm, and the fire had clearly been burning for a while, so he might still be inside, in who knew what condition, and the Cup there with him, just as Crombie feared.
Joby was already helping Crombie toward the gate, but if they had to do this, it had to be done faster. Ben ran back and simply hoisted the small man up over one shoulder. “Joby, get the hose!” he called returning to the gate. “Try to train it on the fire.”
Joby ran back to twist the faucet on and yank the coiled garden hose toward them.
“Wait,” Ben said as Joby reached them. “Soak us down with that.”
Seeing the fire now, Joby looked appalled. “You can’t go in there!” he said.
“We must!” Crombie protested. “The Cup! We cannot lose the Cup!”
“Hurry up, Joby,” Ben said. “Get us wet. We’ll be in and out in minutes.”
Already lost in planning as Joby complied, Ben hardly felt the water’s chill. “Where are you keeping it?” Ben asked Crombie, who endured both his undignified perch and the soaking without complaint.
“In the sacristy, since the incident with Cotter. Just beside the altar.”
Good, Ben thought, not far inside the back door. This might be easier than he’d feared. “Okay, that should do,” he said to Joby. “Bring the hose, and be ready to hit us again when we come out.” He was already loping toward the back steps of the church, Crombie still across his shoulder. “If we’re not out in a minute or two,” he called back as they neared the door, “break the sacristy window, and stick the hose in there.”
Happily, Crombie was so shrunken with age that he weighed almost nothing. Ben was up the steps with ease, and yanking at the door, which wouldn’t open.
“It’s locked,” Crombie said. “The key is back at the rectory. You’ll have to—”
Before he could finish, Ben set him down, waited while Crombie steadied himself, then drew back and launched a powerful kick at the door, which broke up like so much kindling, shuddering inward on its hinges. The building sucked a loud breath of air in around them through the doorway, then exhaled a blast of furnace heat that made Ben spin away to shield himself and Father Crombie.
“I’m not sure we can do this,” he said to Crombie.
“You stay here,” Crombie said, already shuffling toward the door. “I’m the one who must go in. I know the wards.”
“No way, Father,” Ben grunted, hoisting him again. “You ready?”
Crombie merely nodded his assent.
“Take the biggest breath you can,” Ben said, and did the same before charging through the door.
The heat was terrible, but not unsurvivable yet, Ben judged, as he turned, intending to dash across the altar into the sacristy. But there was a man lying facedown in front of the altar, unconscious, if not dead.
“Alfred!” Crombie croaked, and began to cough.
Ben set him on the floor, and shouted, “Don’t get up. The air’ll be better there.” Then he ran to crouch by Alfred, rolling him over to find a knife protruding from his stomach. His wilderness first-aid training rushing back, Ben checked for pulses, and lowered his ear to Alfred’s open mouth, but it was clearly too late for this one.
There was no time to wonder who had killed him, or why. Ben ran back to Crombie, coughing now as well, and fearful that their clothes might ignite at any moment. The blaze had clearly started back toward the main doors, but it was racing forward now, probably on the draft they’d created by opening the back door. The altar hangings had begun to smolder
“Hurry!” Crombie moaned over the fire’s roar.
There was just time, Ben hoped, to get into the sacristy. Once there, he could smash the window and get them out through that.
“Take another breath!” Ben shouted. Crombie did so, but began to cough, and had to try again. Then, with Crombie bundled like a child in his arms, Ben sprinted for the sacristy door, kicked it in without setting Crombie down, and raced inside. Thankfully, the sacristy was still much cooler than the church had been.
He laid Crombie quickly on the floor, and turned to slam shut what remained of the now knobless door behind them, dragging a chair against it to help block out the heat for at least a few more minutes. Crombie was already crawling to his feet, chanting the words that would breach the wards, as Ben grabbed a tall metal candle stand and rushed to smash out the sacristy window, intent on letting in some air and preparing their exit.
Seconds later, as he scraped the frame clean of glass shards with the candle stand, a st
ream of water came through the broken widow, spattering his steaming shirt. Good old Joby, Ben thought with fierce affection. “We’re okay, Joby!” he shouted. “Keep the water coming!” He turned to Crombie and called, “Come here a second!” wanting to wet him down again as well, but the priest just shook his head, continuing to chant.
“There!” Crombie called, stepping forward to open the ornate metal box at which his chant had been directed. But when the doors parted, he only stood and gaped.
Ben rushed to his side, and saw the box was empty.
“We’re too late!” Crombie gasped. “It’s gone!”
Ben had never heard him sound so desolate.
“Jake! Gabriel, we need you!” Swami shouted, running down the street in tears. It had come—the bad thing he had always feared—without any warning! “Merlin! Help!”
The two archangels, dark and light, appeared simultaneously ahead of him, already deep in urgent conversation.
“Try to find the Cup,” Swami heard Jake say as he ran toward them. “Until we know where it’s gone, I’ve nowhere to send these people.”
“Jake!” Swami began as he reached them, but Jake held up a hand to silence him, and Gabriel swept Swami into a comforting embrace as he and Jake continued talking.
“The Cup may not reveal itself to me,” Gabriel said, “especially if I am—”
“No more of that!” Jake cut him off. “I understand your concerns, but we must try, or all is truly lost. Take Swami. It isn’t safe to have him here now. Not with what he knows. His gift should be of help to you. The Cup will reveal itself to him if anyone, but he will need a guard.”
“No one will guard him more fiercely than I,” said Gabriel, “but we both know it will be no quick or easy task. Can you preserve this place until my return?”
“With Merlin’s help, perhaps,” Jake said. “What choice have we but to try?” A faint smile brushed his lips. “Lucifer’s dogs will find a small surprise awaiting them. The enchanter is already preparing it. Our Master bade me let them enter, He did not say how I must allow it. Go now. There is no more time. They come.”
The Book of Joby Page 58
