The Book of Joby (23 page)

“It had better be urgent,” Lucifer warned, one hand to the obelisk in his office. Glyster, or Gizzard, or whatever his name, was suddenly silent.

“Speak up, man!” Lucifer snapped. “I’ve got things to attend to, and
your
attention should be on the
boy.
” He had recruited this oaf to watch Joby whenever Williamson’s new research took him from that task. Now Lucifer was having second thoughts about his choice of a stand-in.

“I . . . I’ve, um. Well,” the damned soul stammered. “I seem to have lost him, Sir.”

“Come again?” Lucifer was suddenly very still. “Lost
who
?”

“The . . . the boy, Sir.” His excuses tumbled out in a desperate rush. “I was right on top of him, Sir! Right on his back! One moment he was there—or, I mean,
I
was there, and then, I was somewhere else, and he was gone! Just vanished right into nowhere! All of them! Even the car! Honest, Sir!”

“You’re not telling me you’ve lost track of the boy you were sent to watch?”

Silence.

“Come to my office immediately, Glister.”

“It’s Glazer, Sir.”

“NOW!”

Vanished, indeed!
Lucifer thought, suppressing an urge to vaporize this pustule on arrival. The idiot hadn’t even guts enough to admit he’d fallen asleep at his post!

The jaundiced fool popped up, clearly braced for a blow. Lucifer took another deep breath. Mustn’t scare him senseless until all the important facts were harvested.

“Where did this alleged vanishing act occur, Glazer? You mentioned a car.”

“Yes, Sir. They were driving up the coast on
vacation.
Then they all vanished, Sir. Just vanished!” He gave an annoying little shrug. “In a flash, you might say.”

“You might, huh?” Lucifer mused through clenched teeth. “Where were they going on this vacation, Glazer?”

“To the
beach,
Sir.” Despite his obvious fear, Glazer seemed to find the concept amusing somehow. “Going to see
crabs,
Sir, and
gather shells.
” He performed that infuriating shrug again and added, “Someplace I never heard of. Towbolt, I think.”

For a moment Lucifer simply gaped. Then, “
Taubolt!
They were going to
Taubolt,
and it just never
occurred
to you to inform me until
now
?”

“Going to the beach to pick up seashells, Sir? Why would I bother you with something like—”

“Bye now,” Lucifer said, almost merrily, and Glazer was gone—
in a flash,
you might say. With fragile calm, Lucifer laid his hand back upon the obelisk, and said, “Williamson. Come.”

The fellow was there instantly.

“Sir?”

“I’ve got a riddle for you, Williamson. If a damned soul screams forever in a void where there’s no one to hear him, does he make a sound?”

Completely terrified, Williamson stammered, “I . . . I imagine so, Sir.”

“Yes.” Lucifer nodded. “I hope so too.” He turned and walked away. “Here’s another one. If a supposedly competent researcher, with all the resources of Hell at his disposal, is unable to find a beach town in California called Taubolt, how can a mere mortal family, with
no resources
to speak of, trot blithely off to
vacation
there?”

“Sir? . . . I . . . I don’t under—”

“I just terminated your stand-in, Williamson, because he managed to lose track of Joby Peterson and his entire family on their way to vacation in—get this, Williamson—
Taubolt . . . .
Now, stop me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that if
they
can find Taubolt,” he rounded on Williamson again and shouted,
“we should be able to!”
He took a deep breath, regathered his self-control, and said, “Am I missing something?”

“Sir,” Williamson replied, sweating artillery shells, “I truly cannot think of any natural explanation for this.”

No natural explanation.
It was all Lucifer could do not to slap his own forehead. Had they actually
vanished
?
Literally
? Lucifer had assumed Grizzled was lying, or at least exaggerating, but . . . if it were
true
! He rather regretted incinerating the fellow before checking more carefully.

“Exactly, Williamson. No natural explanation—once again, you’ve confirmed my own suspicions precisely.” He walked to his desk, and whipped out a pen and sheet of paper. “I have an errand for you.” He scribbled a few lines on the stationery, paused to think, then scribbled a few more, signed it, sealed it with wax from the candle on his desk, and held the note out to his trembling researcher. “I want you to deliver this letter to a certain member of the enemy camp.”

“To whom, Sir?” Williamson asked nervously, coming to take the letter.

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel?”
Williamson choked.
“The Arch—”

“Yes, you little coward, the Creator’s right-hand
boy,
” Lucifer sneered. “He’s not going to bite your head off while you’re about
my
business. Wait for an answer, and bring it to me immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes, but, Sir. . . . I can hardly just waltz into Heaven. Where am I supposed to—”

“Just run to any trendy coffeehouse on this abysmal planet and yell his
name!” Lucifer snapped irritably. “Better yet, yell
‘cheat.’
” He grinned. “That may bring him even faster.” Lucifer turned away and said, “Why aren’t you gone yet? Just because I’ve
got
forever, doesn’t mean I can spend it all waiting for
you
.”

When Williamson vanished, Lucifer closed his eyes and fortified himself for an
unpleasant
necessity. He had to be absolutely certain that Joby had truly vanished from the earth, and, sadly, the task was too important to delegate.

He gathered his awareness, then let it spread from the flawless order of his own domain out into the Creator’s squalid slum of a planet, searching for Joby. The more deeply he was forced to delve, the more his angelic mind recoiled in rage and loathing from all the filth and imperfection it encountered. When he finally yanked his awareness back to safety, Lucifer stood gasping, as if burst from some putrid pool just shy of drowning.
Nothing
filled him with more rage than knowing Heaven blamed
him
for all of
that
!

Nonetheless, Joby was truly not to be found.

“Got you at last,
Master
!” Lucifer breathed. “Explain Your way out of
this
.”

Benjamin woke in the blue-gray hour just before sunrise and turned to find Joby sitting by their window, staring out over Taubolt’s roofs, just as he’d been doing the night before. When his parents had left them, Joby had sworn to Benjamin that
this
was where Arthur had taken him in his dream! Benjamin trusted Joby more than anyone except his own parents, but he still didn’t know what to make of such a strange claim.

“It’s not even morning yet.” Benjamin yawned. “Why are you up?”

“I’m trying to figure it out. . . . In the dream, Camelot was right here, so . . . do you think this is where Camelot
used
to be, or where it’s
going
to be?”

“What?”

“Remember when I asked Father Crombie if Camelot could ever be real again?”

“No. . . . Well, yeah, maybe.”

“He said it could come back if people believed in it like they believe in money. Remember? Well, maybe Arthur showed me Taubolt in the dream so I would know this is where he’s coming back to.” Joby turned back to face the window again. “You know what I dreamed last night, Benjamin?”

Benjamin waited, wondering if Arthur had talked to Joby again.

“I dreamed I was in the dark with candles burning all around me. . . . Hundreds of them, as far as you could see. Like Father Crombie’s talk.
Remember? About being lights in the dark?” Joby looked back out the window. “I have that dream a lot.”

Benjamin just stared at Joby, thinking he’d never seen him farther off in that world of his than he was now.

The inn clerk had told them they were in luck; spring tides were exposing even more of the sea floor than usual. They’d had to rise just after dawn to catch the ocean’s lowest ebb, but for Miriam it had been worth it just to watch the tiny smile come and go on her husband’s face all morning as he’d watched their son and his best friend crouch side by side among the weed-draped rocks, pointing, exclaiming, and occasionally thrusting a hand into the water after some darting creature or bit of shell.

Earlier, they’d been able to walk out to the closest rock stacks in what locals called Smuggler’s Bay. Miriam had forgotten how much color the ocean hoarded. Pink, lavender, yellow, orange, brilliant red, violet, and blue flashed everywhere from beneath heavy shrouds of iridescent brown algae or bright green mermaid’s hair. Glinting shards of abalone shell were wedged into every crevice. They’d found several of the sun stars Miriam remembered from her childhood visit. Kelp and porcelain crabs, like armored alien tanks; slithering brittle stars; bright red sea bats; sculpin like tiny water dragons; bright purple urchins as thick as carpet in the larger pools; huge fluorescent green anemones, and beds of smaller lavender ones. Joby seemed to know all their names, and had made it clear that seeing his library books come to life was the best birthday gift they could have given him.

Hours earlier, pale spring sunlight had gilt the town, then crested the surrounding cliff tops to cast a brilliant glamour over the glimmering liquid landscape at their feet. Breathing the salt air, listening to the swish of surf and the cry of gulls wheeling in the clear sky above her, Miriam was overwhelmed by Taubolt’s loveliness and wondered why her father had ever left it.

She supposed he’d fled the isolation. Taubolt seemed even farther from the real world than mere distance accounted for. The inn didn’t even accept credit cards! Fortunately, they’d brought checks. Their rooms were furnished with large, four-posted feather beds, glossy mahogany wardrobes, and end tables that looked like real antiques, making Miriam feel as if she’d stepped back in time to her own grandmother’s house in Salem, Oregon. There’d been lace curtains and fresh-cut flowers in every room. Yet the prices were so reasonable. She wondered if the proprietor was aware of how much such lodging went for in the larger world these days.

The night before, after the boys had been settled into their own room, Frank had taken her for a candlelit nightcap in the richly appointed bar beneath the inn’s grand old staircase. There they’d met a few of the other guests and been amazed to discover that none of them had come to Taubolt intentionally. They’d all been drawn aside by whimsy or curiosity on their way to someplace farther up or down the coast. Later, in the privacy of their room, she and Frank had shared a good laugh over the bartender’s almost frightened expression when they’d told him they’d actually come looking for Taubolt. “Like he’d seen a ghost!” Frank had laughed, suggesting it might be time to get a more effective chamber of commerce.