A Bookstore Moves to Tadfield. Chapter 9. Guardian Aziraphale

1. Sandalphon is in a residential street. A small mongrel with glowing red eyes races out of a hedge and attacks him, savagely chewing holes in his sock before hearing a shrill whistle and running off. A man walking a small, long brown dog on a leash approaches him.

That was Adam Young's dog! You must report it to the animal authority! I will corroborate you. I witnessed the entire incident.

Adam Young? I've been looking for him.

You have? What for?

I'm . . . an uncle.

Well if you're an uncle, why don't you know where he lives? I'll have you know Tadfield is a respectable village, and we'll tolerate none of you child stalkers here. I will report your presence to the Youngs. I suggest you move along, and quickly. If I see you again, I will report you to the authorities.

The little long dog begins to growl. Sandalphon scowls at the outraged man, turns and walks off. Once out of sight, he stops as if consulting his guide book, then creeps back a ways as he hears the old fussbudget call out,

Adam Young, if you do not control that animal, there will be trouble!

A kid on a bicycle bursts out of a driveway and races off down the street in the direction of the angel's bookstore. The dog that had bitten Sandalphon gallops behind the bike.

A man comes out of the house, and the old fussbudget speaks across the gate with him. Sandalphon can only hear snatches of the conversation, which includes the words "uncle" and "kidnapping" spoken at an excitable pitch.

2. It's shortly before midnight. Hastur and Sandalphon emerge from their hideout. Hastur puffs on a roll-up as they walk along.

The boy's house is near the end of Hogback lane.

How far from the house to the angel's bookstore?

Other side of town. You'll have to stick to the alleyways I'll show you. You look more in place among dustbins. Anyone seeing you on a street is certain to notice, especially in daylight.

Hastur grunts contemptuously.

If I see something, where will you be?

If you hadn't melted the cell phone, you could have simply called me to inform me of whatever you might see. But now you'll have to walk to the bookstore. I'll be watching there. If nothing happens tonight, just before sun-up I will return to the hut and drive the car to the bookstore. Stay on Hogback Lane. I'll pick you up along the way. We'll find a place tonight where I can park the car tomorrow morning.

Again, Hastur merely grunts. They continue toward town.

3. Madame Tracy serves a light Saturday breakfast at her tea shop, and Aziraphale is seated at a table with a window view of the bookshop, enjoying a croissant and cocoa. Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian enter, and he motions for them to join him.

May I treat you all to cocoa and a pastry?

They thank him and go to the counter to order, then seat themselves around his table.

Adam and Crowley departed shortly after sun-up for the performance driving field. (Aziraphale still hasn't gotten over his amusement at seeing Adam's bicycle strapped to a bike rack on the back of the Bentley.) Crowley spotted Sandalphon lurking about the bookshop last night. (Demons can out-lurk any angel, anytime, anywhere.) When he saw Sandalphon depart, he called Adam and the two left as soon as Adam got here. I think we should all go to the bookstore when we're finished here.

So everything's going to plan so far.

So far. But we haven't gotten very far yet, have we.

The kids catch Aziraphale's anxiety and stay silent and somber as they work their way through their cocoa and pastries. And then Sandalphon walks in. The café is popular for Saturday breakfast, and there's only a few seats available at tiny tables against the far wall. Sandalphon stares steadily at Aziraphale and the kids, then orders at the counter and takes one of the vacant seats. The four immediately get up, rush out the exit, and flee across the street to the bookshop. Aziraphale doesn't waste time with the lock, but magics the door open. Once they're inside, he stays by the door. They peep out a window, to see Sandalphon exit the tea shop. As he walks across the street, Hastur emerges from a shadowy corner and joins him. Sees the three bicycles parked near the entry, makes a gesture, and turns them into melted ruins. Sandalphon and Hastur stand outside the door.

We want Adam, Aziraphale.

And your little runt boyfriend, Crowley.

Aziraphale calls through the doorway.

They are not here. There are children here, Sandalphon. Keep Hastur in check.

Hastur turns to Sandalphon.

Children? So what?

Angels do not harm children. Paperwork.

Actually, Sandalphon considers how three children arriving in Heaven with his name on their toe tags would send his career plummeting as fast as being shoved into the torrent above Angel Falls. But Hastur knows paperwork, and accepts that explanation. He gestures, and the door begins to smolder.

Tell us where Adam and Crowley are, angel. Or your bookshop is toast.

To The Them's astonishment and dismay, Aziraphale opens the door and steps into the doorway, closing the door behind him. The door stops smoldering. Hastur gestures, and a ball of flame encompasses Aziraphale. The angel's celestial body and aura protect him, but not his clothing, and his beloved jacket and vest and bow tie are now charcoal shreds.

He's mine, Hastur. Mind your manners.

Aziraphale flares his wings upward so they frame him and the doorway. Sandalphon sneers:

A Guardian Angel. Bit of a comedown for a principality, isn't that, Aziraphale?

You don't scare us, wank-wings. Tell us where is Adam. Where is Crowley.

If you must know, they've gone to the Tadfield Manor performance driving training field. Crowley has a helicopter there, and is taking Adam to London. You're too late, they've already left. You'll never catch them.

Sandalphon's flaming sword appears in his hand.

Well, we won't harm the children, but I see nothing to prevent me from capturing a traitor. I haven't lost my sword.

And Aziraphale's moment arrives. His deadly flaming blue katana appears in his hands as he assumes the chudan stance.

Nor have I lost mine.

Sandalphon raises his sword, but he's way too slow. Aziraphale's parry slices the old Bronze Age sword into two, the pieces dissolving into nothingness before they even hit the ground. Swiftly and gracefully he swings the tip of the katana back so it is now poised less than a centimeter from the center of Sandalphon's chest. A small flame starts to burn in a spot on his camelhair overcoat.

Avaunt! Both of you!

Hastur has in past encounters learned a hefty respect for those flaming swords the Angels swank around with, and is impressed.

Sandalphon. Let's get in the car We know where Crowley and the brat are going. You think you can drive like Crowley? Let's see if you can catch him.

A final look of hatred, and they run off around the corner. Then the noise of a powerful engine, and the red Mercedes tilts uncertainly into the main thoroughfare and roars out of town.

Aziraphale's wings and sword vanish, and he walks over to the smoldering bicycles. Pepper is already out the door.

Look what they did to our bikes! I'm going to be in so much trouble!

Fortunately I have some experience in velo- , er, bicycle repair.

Aziraphale grabs what's left of the handlebars of Pepper's bike, and as he lifts it becomes once again a red bike with flaming decals, bright and shiny as new.

Can you make it have twelve gears and a razorblade saddle?

Probably best not to. Perhaps some gears, however.

And Pepper's bike is now a 3-speed.

Sweet!

Aziraphale repairs the other two bikes. Brian's is no longer rusty and has nice bright paint and fresh grease.

Will one of you call Crowley? My phone is melted. Tell him they are on their way, that we are all fine here.

Brian gets his phone out first and taps in the call.

Crowley? They're on their way. Yes, we are all right. Except Aziraphale is burned.

No! Tell him it is just my jacket. I am quite unharmed.

No, he's not hurt. It's just his clothes that got burned up. . . . It was the ugly one, the demon. He did it.

Brian looks at his phone. Crowley has disconnected. Wensleydale pipes up:

Is your sword electric, Mr. Aziraphale?