GOOD OMENS 3
FireFenix
Chapter 16
16 - THE WITCH'S HUT
The journey to Oxfordshire, which had gone by in complete and utter silence, was completed in a miraculous record of two and a half hours. All four of them knew that the demon had broken about several dozen traffic laws to achieve this, but none of them cared. Aziraphale hadn't even complained about the obscene speed Crowley was driving at; not even once.
Not even the Bentley, always eager to fill the empty spaces with a cheerful tune, dared to make a noise. Crowley's eyes had been fixed exclusively on the road for the entire duration of the drive, something which only the impending end of the universe as they knew it had been able to achieve, and Aziraphale's hadn't shifted much from it either, if only to check on the two passengers in the back of the car from time to time.
Muriel had been crying for a good half of the journey, and Eleyn had been trying to comfort her. She'd taken her hand and squeezed; and the scrivener had almost automatically laid her head on the other's shoulder, sobbing into it whilst God's daughter tenderly caressed her hair, attempting to soothe her.
About an hour and twenty minutes after their departure, Aziraphale had suddenly heard Muriel's soft sobbing come to halt; and realized with a glance at the rearview mirror that both her and Eleyn had fallen asleep in their embrace. Their faces seemed contorted with fear, and tears still hung on the corners of the scrivener's eyes. It wasn't a peaceful slumber, but the angel was glad they would get some rest, however horrible the nightmares, before the final push.
As they drove across a familiar road which stretched between dense masses of trees, the angel glanced up at the mirror once again, confirming both of them still slept.
-How are they? - Crowley whispered to the angel then, causing him to shift his eyes from the mirror to the demon.
-Asleep - Aziraphale sighed back - Poor dears, they must be exhausted -
-How are you? - the demon asked in another whisper, glancing away from the road for only half a second to meet Aziraphale's shocked blue eyes.
-Terrified - the angel admitted with a shaky breath, a sneaky tear threatening to fall down his own face.
A tense, somber silence fell between them again as the demon maneuvered through a closed curve, and Aziraphale could feel his breathing get heavier the closer they got to Tadfield. He could feel his stomach churning to the beat of the passing seconds, every one of which seemed to make the world pulse.
Terrified had been an understatement; Aziraphale was completely numb with fear. The stillness of his body throughout the entire journey had been an extraordinary contrast to his mind, which had gone into overdrive about half a second after he'd understood what was going to happen, thoughts shooting across back and forth like bullets, the impact of them making him hurt more every time.
The Metatron had fooled them all, every single angel in Heaven. All those innocent cherubims and scriveners, all those angels who would fall for no reason whatsoever. Who would suffer like Crowley had. The sheer unfairness of it made Aziraphale's blood boil, but the fear was enough to completely counter the adrenaline.
Every time the angel felt his rage toward Metatron build, every time he thought about fighting him, about punishing him for his traitorous crime, there was a flash before his eyes. A flash of deep blue and angelic gold, an image of lifeless amber eyes, a pound of fear so heavy it drowned every possible thought of revenge.
And then he would become paralyzed, just as he had the first time Metatron had shown him the Angel's Dagger. It hurt him to admit it, but as long as the voice of God possessed the weapon, he would have the upper hand. Metatron knew that Aziraphale would do everything in his power to keep Crowley safe; and he'd already proved that he knew how to take advantage of it.
It was only when Aziraphale felt a warm hand wrap tenderly around his own that he realized he'd been anxiously fidgeting whilst lost in his labyrinth of thoughts. The light touch of the demon's skin, however, managed to ground him enough to be able to stop and breathe.
He turned his own hand around a second after, so their palms would be facing each other, and intertwined their fingers firmly together; the joined hands going to rest on the angel's left thigh. Crowley squeezed lightly in return, and once again tore his eyes from the road for a fraction of a second, to aim a small smile at the angel.
-We'll come through - he whispered, just as they passed a sign informing them they'd entered upper Tadfield - We always do -
-I hope you're right - Aziraphale replied, casting a glance in the direction of the rearview mirror, which still showed Muriel and Eleyn snuggled against each other in the back of the car.
He smiled fondly at the reflection, only a touch jealous of their momentary state of calm; of the way all they had to worry about in that instance was to breathe in and breathe out. It's not that Aziraphale hadn't tried to sleep during the journey, in fact Crowley had repeatedly suggested it, but he hadn't been able to close his eyes without his mind being instantly flooded with images of a dead, crumbling universe; so he'd opted for keeping the demon company instead.
When Crowley finally stepped on the brakes as the Bentley neared Tadfield's narrow streets, Eleyn began to stir; and Aziraphale imperceptibly straightened up. Muriel was awakened by her sudden shifting a few seconds after, and they both slowly blinked themselves awake, sheepishly but tenderly moving away from their shared embrace with small, drowsy smiles.
-Morning, dears - Aziraphale breathed after a little bit, speaking quietly so they wouldn't be startled - How are you feeling? -
-A little better - Muriel sighed, speaking just above a whisper - Still sick, and terrified, but… - she smiled fondly at Eleyn - hopeful -
Eleyn smiled back at her friend instantly, just as fondly; and her attention was drawn away from the scrivener only when Crowley quietly called her name.
-Eleyn? - he said, locking eyes with her through the rearview mirror - Are you doing alright? All those signs must have taken a damn big bite out of you -
-I'm fine, I'm fine - she waved it off immediately, slightly frowning as she rubbed two fingers against her pulsing forehead- Just a little headache, don't worry about me -
-Poor dear - Aziraphale worried nonetheless, shooting her with puppy dog eyes which made her sigh in fond exasperation - I hope Anathema has some sort of remedy she can give you. I'd use a miracle, but, well… -
-They could find us, yeah, I know - she smiled sweetly at him - I'm okay, seriously. Stop worrying -
-Not a chance, princess - Crowley answered for the angel, stealing the words out of his mouth - You're our problem now, we can and we will worry - he added that last part when he saw her open her mouth to reply, shifting down to second gear when Jasmine cottage came into view - And speaking of the Ana girl, witch's hut straight ahead!-
-A-na-the…oh, why do I even bother? - Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the demon, making him chuckle softly. It was little, almost imperceptible, but it made the tension in the angel's chest dissipate just a smidge.
The Bentley groaned as Crowley brought it to halt by the garden gate and killed its engine, affectionately patting the steering wheel as the other three hurried to get off and stretch their legs.
-Two and a half hours - the demon stated in a whisper, smirking at the car, still unsure how they'd managed it - Best fucking car in the world, you are -
After a second, the wheel began heating up below Crowley's fingertips, giving the impression that the Bentley was blushing. It forced a half-sardonic, half-affectionate sigh out of the demon who, with one final pat at the dashboard, threw the door open and stepped onto Tadfield for the first time since the world almost ended.
Jasmine cottage looked almost exactly how it did a couple of years ago, when he and Aziraphale had driven a ran-over, disoriented Anathema back to it, bike rack and everything. If he had a nickel for every time he'd arrived at that house in the middle of the night trying to avoid the end of the world, he would have two whole nickels; which doesn't feel like a lot but in the context of apocalypses is actually very concerning.
The house itself was made of a pretty standard orange stone brick, and the façade was decorated with an overlay of white paint between the windows; covered in turn by dark green vines which had been perfectly trimmed to occupy the entirety of the white surface. A little porch also sprouted from the front of the house, cocooning the front door, a metal horseshoe hanging ends-down over it.
A tall chimney sprouted from the orange tile roof, but no smoke emanated from it, as expected from the early hour. The sun hadn't come up yet, but the smallest glimmer of light could be seen beginning to creep from the horizon, a single lamppost casting delicate shadows through the cottage's slumbering garden.
Crowley couldn't help casting a glance around at the different plants when he walked through the leafy archway atop the ajar garden fence; and he had to admit (though he never would our loud) that he was slightly jealous of the perfectly trimmed Daphne bushes which lined the porch on both sides, all of them chalk-full of colorful flowers. On the other side of the garden, close to the fence, he spotted a concentration of what one would call the witchy kind of herbs: rosemary, lavender, sage, thyme, sweet woodruff; and even an Aloe Vera plant, the size of which was quite respectable.
The rest of the garden was covered in grass and very common potted plants; but a witch's hazel sat in the middle of the yard, its stump encircled by rocks, sticking out like a sore thumb. With the little light, Crowley couldn't quite make out the color of the flowers, but he was about ninety percent sure it was an Aphrodite.
Crowley had always had a very lively imagination, which had in this moment led him to picture which plants he would have in a garden like that one: One or two Ficus, for sure. Forget-me-nots over there, tulips over here, Azaleas lining the flower beds, maybe even orchids. And an apple tree, slap bang in the center of the garden, full of fruits, with a big "don't touch" sign on the trunk. Hopefully God had a sense of humor.
He was gently snapped out of his thoughts right then, when he felt the weight of an angelic hand on his lower back, and he turned his head sideways to look at Aziraphale, who even at the crack of dawn looked positively stunning. He couldn't help imagining his beautiful angel standing in his beautiful garden, picking apples to make a pie; or simply sipping a cup of tea in the morning.
But that was not the moment to daydream; there would be plenty of time to plan the rest of their lives together after they'd successfully saved the world (again) and the universe (first time).
With a decisive, deep breath; Crowley turned away from Aziraphale and towards the door of the cottage, slipping onto the porch to ring the bell, the other three standing right beside him.
Newton still didn't believe he'd been using a computer for five whole minutes without having it burst into a ball of fire, but there he was, typing a report, clicking key after key without sending the whole of Tadfield into a days-long blackout. He felt so proud of himself, and Anathema looked very pleasantly surprised. So much so, in fact, that she proposed right then and there, pulling out a ring which was interestingly made out of electrical components, an LED singing green on top of it instead of a jewel. She slipped it onto his finger, it was a perfect fit, and then she was suddenly in a wedding gown and pushing him onto a magic broom to fly them to the moon and…
And then somebody rang the doorbell, making Newt wake up with a start. He felt Anathema stir under the bed sheets beside him, but he didn't move, hoping he'd just imagined the cold, sharp sound of the bell and he could go back to sleep and resume his dream. Unfortunately for him, the doorbell rang again twice about thirty seconds later, at which point his girlfriend sat up on the bed.
-We should mayb… - she yawned mid sentence - maybe get that, Newt -
-It's the middle of the bloody night! - he complained, staying firmly put under the bedsheets- Who the hell could need us now?! -
-It could be an emergency - Anathema pointed out, already getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom, not allowing Newt to argue further.
He groaned in annoyment, but finally pulled the bed sheets away and sat on the edge of the bed, just as the doorbell rang two more times. Newt completely ignored it, glancing sideways at his bedside table instead, his phone lying upside-down on it. He slowly and tentatively grabbed it, and the screen lit up the second he turned it around, displaying the time. Half past five in the morning.
He should have put the phone down then, but Anathema had told him about premonitions in the form of dreams before, something which one would dream and then would actually happen, so he clicked the on switch to unlock the phone. He was almost hopeful when the lock screen popped up, exactly like it was meant to, and allowed him to type in the password (which was "password"). He filled it in, hit enter and the phone promptly died.
Oh well. One day.
The bell rang three more times right then, one after the other, causing Newt to almost drop his phone from the scare. Then it rang again, and again, and again, and again.
-Alright, alright, I'm coming - he growled, clumsily slipping on a sweater over his pajamas and stumbling out the room down the stairs as the bell incessantly chimed - I'm coming, I said! -
He finally reached the front door, turned the lobby light on, and threw it open with the last obnoxious few rings of the bell.
-Jesus! - he said before registering who was on the other side of the door.
When his eyes fell on Crowley, who'd been the culprit of the crazy bell, Newton went completely pale.
-More like friends of the family - the demon smirked at the witch hunter.
Newt then glanced sideways to spot Aziraphale, who gave him a little wave, and went even paler. The last time those two had been anywhere near him, he'd been face to face with the actual Devil, the world had almost ended, and he had almost died; all before tea time. And now they were here, on his doorstep, smashing his doorbell into the wall. And they looked scared.
Why oh why had he gotten out of bed?
-Ah, Newton. Good morning - Aziraphale finally greeted him after a few moments of awkward silence, smiling politely at him - We are ever so sorry to wake you. How have you been, dear boy? -
-I…have…I'm…. good. Great. Um - he stuttered, the fingers gripping the door slowly becoming whiter than their owner's face. He swallowed, his eyes jumping frantically between the four of them, finally blurting out the first thing that crossed his mind- Erm. Am I going to die? -
-Eventually - Crowley replied before the angel could put in a word, flashing an already badly shaking Newt one of his signature devilish smirks - But if you were talking about the upcoming end of the world and the universe as we all know it, then no, we hope not -
-Oh - he breathed back, shaking head to toe.
Aziraphale glared at the demon, silently judging his beloved pastime of scaring Newton to the bone; to which Crowley replied with an equally silent "what?!"
-Yes, well, anyway - The angel took the reigns of the conversation once again, catching Newt's eyes - Like my fiend of a demon has so kindly told you - he didn't need to look towards Crowley to see the eye-roll - We find ourselves in a teeny weeny bit of a pickle; and we were hoping Anathema could give us a hand. Is she home, by any chance? -
-Um. Well, yes, but… - the witchfinder stumbled through his words, as though trying to summon the courage to speak his mind - Err…I don't think… -
He didn't have time to finish the sentence before a perfectly-groomed, perfectly-dressed and perfectly fresh looking Anathema materialized on the doorstep right behind Newt, her eyes fixed on her quivering boyfriend.
-I heard my name, is everything…? - when she finally turned her gaze towards the group on the other side of the door she realized that no, everything was very much not okay - Oh -
-Anathema, dear! - Aziraphale all but pranced on her the second their eyes met - I'm afraid we're in need of assistance once again. You see, the world and possibly universe is about to completely collapse but we were hoping to stop it, for which we need to find a fallen Archangel who is trapped here on Earth; and you are our only remaining hope -
-Good…morning? - she replied, blinking slowly, trying her very best to register whatever it was the angel had said after "the world and the universe are about to end" - Nice to see you again? -
-Oh, uhm, yes, quite, very nice, good morning - the angel rushed through the forgotten pleasantries, trying his best not to let his rising anxiety show in his voice - Now, about Raphael. We really need you to help us find them, you see, they have a certain piece of information which is vital to our saving the universe from the second coming, and… -
-Whoa, whoa! - Anathema raised both her hands in the air, cutting Aziraphale off - Second coming?! As in…?! -
-Jesus part two, yeah - Crowley butted in, paraphrasing himself before going down the lengthy explanation in as little time as possible - Except not quite Jesus. She - he gestured at Eleyn over his shoulder, and she gave Anathema a shy smile. Newt was staring at the demon, completely lost - is Jesus part two. His sister. God's daughter. Whatever fucks you up the least. Anyway, she's been performing the same miracles Jesus did, walking on water, water to wine, blah blah blah; so now she only has two left to perform and the moment she does the last one everything starts going to shit. And I mean everything. To absolute shit - he paused - You following me? -
-No - said Newt, without a shade of doubt.
-Kinda - the witch replied, with only a little doubt.
-Good - he continued, wasting no time - Right, okay, so The Metatron, or the Voice of God; or whatever you want to call him, is behind the everything going to shit thing; and he could really fuck the universe up if we don't stop him pronto - he stopped to make sure that point had been understood, then moved swiftly on - And how do we stop him? No damn clue. Yet. What we do know is that there's a bloke called "Enoch" up to his neck in this mess. Problem is we don't exactly know what he has to do with it. Nobody does, there was some sort of existence-plain-wide memory wipe; because in a very unexpected and very badly fucking timed addition of Heaven lore, that's apparently a thing! And now our only hope is to find Raph and pray that they remember who the hell Enoch is- he concluded, finally taking a breath - Questions? -
-Many - Newt, once again, answered without hesitation, raising a finger which he pointed at the scrivener- Did you say she's God's daughter? -
-No, she is Muriel, another angel who has seen the error of Metatron's ways and is now helping us. She - Aziraphale explained, gesturing from Muriel to Eleyn -is God's daughter -
-Right - he blinked, slowly, trying to piece everything together in his still-groggy mind - So you're essentially Jesus' baby sister? -
-Yep - Eleyn sighed, popping the p - Trust me, it's best just to accept it -
-But… - the witchfinder began, only to be ruthlessly cut off by Crowley.
-Okay, the questions thing was meant to be rhetorical - he said, flatly, making the witchfinder close his mouth in the act. He then addressed Anathema, who looked like she'd processed at least half the information - So you'll help us, yeah? -
-Um… - she looked back and forth between the angel and the demon on her doorstep, one more desperate than the other - I…I don't know if… -
-Listen, we know it's a whole lot of shit to deal with at five in the morning - Crowley insisted, his anxiety levels spiking more each second of time that was wasted - We'd explain over tea and biscuits, really, we would. But we don't have the damn time. We need your help and we need it right fucking now if we want to save humanity's ass again -
-Please - Muriel added, taking a step forward, the desperation in her light amber eyes making the witch's breath hitch - There is so much at stake. So much more than you can imagine -
-Come in - Anathema sighed after a beat of silence, stepping out of the way to let them through - I'll see what I can do -
Muriel let out a sigh of relief and directed a small smile at the witch in thanks, which Anathema returned, and followed the other three inside. The cottage already seemed charming from the outside, but the brick façade had nothing to do against the warm, cozy interior. It wasn't huge, or fancy, but it didn't need to be. They were greeted by a small foyer which instantly widened into the main hallway, a beautiful wood-carved staircase sauntering upwards from the left of it, preceded by a door which led to a lovely kitchen, not much larger than the one in the bookshop. An old, thick wooden table sat in the centre in lieu of an island, giving it a hint of rustic charm which Aziraphale appreciated. The group was led past the staircase to another door on the right, on the other side of which was the living room.
It was tiny, nothing more than a wooden table, a sofa, an armchair and a modern TV on the far right corner; but the soft yellow paint which covered its wall made it spectacularly…calm. The first rays of sunshine just about made it through the window, casting a warm glow in the room. It reminded Muriel of the bookshop. She missed the bookshop. The scrivener took a deep breath, for the first time since they'd left Edinburgh, and tried to let the soft early light soothe her like she had so many times while sitting on that comfortable velvet chair. She realized it might not have been the best time for meditation, but after all the craziness she just needed to breathe.
The puff of Eleyn throwing herself onto the little couch snapped Muriel out of her little trance, and she copied her friend, feeling very slightly calmer. Slightly.
Aziraphale and Crowley didn't sit, the latter because he would be unable to stay still for more than three seconds until the universe was safe and he knew it; and the first because he considered the upcoming one a standing-up kind of conversation.
- Okay - said Anathema as she came through the door, Newt trailing close behind her - So, explain it to me again. What is it you want me to do? -
-Archangel Raphael - Aziraphale repeated, calmly this time, not tripping over his words - They were cast out of Heaven and into the mortal realm a number of eons ago, and now we need to find them -
-Right, because they have information you need - she began piecing it together, talking slowly so that they could stop her at any point - Information about somebody called Enoch -
-Precisely - the angel nodded - It, and by extension you, might be our only remaining hope to stop the Metatron -
-No pressure then - she muttered.
-Hold on - Newt stepped forward, raising a finger - Are we sure this bloke is even still alive? I mean, you said they were cast out to Earth a long time ago, and mortals don't live forever. That's…literally the definition of a mortal -
- Raphael isn't immortal, but they aren't t mortal either - Aziraphale explained with a sigh - Think about it, if after about a hundred years they'd died and returned to heaven, it would have defeated the purpose of their being cast out in the first place -
-I suppose so, but how…? - the witchfinder insisted, still not convinced.
-Imagine somebody in a coma - Muriel explained, her voice suddenly filling the room - Or a brain-dead patient. They are technically not alive, but their bodies can continue to live without a consciousness for however time the live support concedes. That is what they did to Raphael when they stripped them of their vision. Their perception of reality is gone, only a shell remains. Mortal but immortal -
-That makes sense - said Anathema, her cogs turning - But if they are in a coma-like state, how would they be able to help you, even if you found them? -
- That's where having God's offspring comes in handy - Crowley explained, sticking a thumb in Eleyn's direction - Remember when I told you she's only got two signs left to perform? -
- Let me guess - she caught on immediately - One of them happens to be the healing of the man born blind -
-Bingo - the demon snapped his fingers - And since Raphael is technically mortal, it should work beautifully -
-So, in summary - Newt said, his voice flat - What you're saying is that you're hoping to save the whole of the universe on a technicality -
There was a beat of silence. Witchfinder and demon stared at one another.
-Well. Yes - replied Crowley, seeing no point in denying it.
-Fantastic. Where do we begin? -
-With Anathema helping us find Raphael - Eleyn intervened, looking from the witchfinder to the witch - Can you do it? -
-I want to help, I really do - she half-muttered - But I don't know what you're expecting me to do… -
- My dear girl, back when the Antichrist was a boy, you found him - Aziraphale recalled, lightly grabbing her forearm - You knew to come to Tadfield, didn't you? You have a way of sensing things which other humans can't. We were hoping you could do the same for Raphael -
-I knew to come here because Agnes told me so - she explained - I was following a prophecy, like I always did -
-Yeah, so give us a prophecy to find Raphael - Crowely prompted her. She'd opened her mouth to speak but the demon held up a finger - And we know the book ended after the whole Adam conundrum, but we also know Nutter wasn't an idiot -
-She must have known the world wouldn't end, she knew practically everything - Aziraphale continued - So surely, there are more prophecies! A second book, or some loose ones in a manuscript or… - he paused - What? -
The second Aziraphale had mentioned the extra prophecies, Newt and Anathema had given each other a look. Not just any look, but a look. The sort of look you give someone when you know something, when you're thinking exactly what they're thinking and it's not good. The angel glanced between one and the other a few times.
- What?! - he repeated, concerned - What is it? -
-The day after Armaggeddon, I got a package - the witch explained - One that had been waiting to be delivered for thousands of years. I think you know where this is going… -
-There is a second part! - Muriel cheered, standing - That's amazing! Where is it? -
All four houseguests leaned towards her, eyes wide open, impatient.
-It's…ehh… - she hesitated, swallowing at the hopeful looks she was about to shatter - Gone - she finally managed to say.
-Gone - Crowley reiterated, slowly, in case he'd misheard. Judging from the witch's face, he hadn't - What do mean, gone? Gone where? -
-Turned to ashes - Newt replied for Anathema, immediately receiving four horrified stares - We…burnt it -
There was an exact second of silence. Muriel flopped down onto the couch, Eleyn swore silently, Crowley swore loudly and Aziraphale just stared, blinking slowly twice.
-I beg your pardon? - the angel asked, raising his eyebrows - You did what? -
-We burnt it. It was my idea - the witchfinder explained, taking the bullet - She would have had to live her whole life as a descendant instead of her own person, and…well, it was time for Anathema to decide what to do with her life, not Agnes -
-All of which is completely reasonable, my dear - Aziraphale said in the kind of tone which sounds calm but is bubbling with anger underneath - But if you didn't want the book, there were other ways to be freed of it. For instance, oh, I don't know…Giving it to the angel who has a bookshop filled to the brim with rare prophecy books which will be kept safe for eternity?! -
-We… - Anathema glanced at Newt, then back at Aziraphale - We didn't think of that at the time, bu… -
-You clearly didn't think at all! Burning a book! Animals! - the angel wailed, profoundly offended, then took a breath and cleared his throat - I apologize for raising my voice, it was terribly impolite of me. But just combusting knowledge like that…I mean, really! -
-You burnt it. Okay. Well, fuck it - Crowley threw his arms in the air, crestfallen, not having enough energy left to even be angry - There goes the universe, the world, and all the plains of existence! Literally up in fucking flames! -
-I'm sorry, I really am… - whispered Newt, his tone defeated - But there's nothing we can do… -
- Actually, there might be - Anathema was finally able to say, and she felt five pairs of eyes lock on her in the act, Newt's included - Not all the prophecies burnt -
-What do you mean they didn't? I was there, I saw it all hap… - he answered his own question, his eyes going wide - oh no you did not -
-We burnt the book and, when it was done, Newt left me for a bit to go get something to drink. To celebrate, I mean - she sighed - And when I was alone I noticed that one scrap had survived the fire. Only one. I picked it up and realized it was a full prophecy, so I…kept it -
-Why didn't you tell me?! - the witchfinder protested.
-Because! - she protested back - You would have convinced me to burn it too, and if it didn't burn it was because Agnes knew it wouldn't! -
-I thought you were done doing Agnes' bidding! - he shot at her - Deciding for yourself and all that? -
-I am! - she shot back - It was just the one prophecy! And it said specifically to keep it safe! -
-Hello, excuse me - Crowley interjected, sardonically waving a hand in the air - Can we finish the domestic after we save the world? Thanks -
-Where is it? - Eleyn begged, she and Muriel having shot to their feet the second the prophecy had been mentioned - Show us, please! -
Anathema left the room without another word, Newt sighing in defeat, and returned about a minute later holding a small wooden box, decorations resembling vines and flowers carefully and meticulously carved into the surface. She opened it to reveal a small piece of paper, burnt around the edges, about three or four inches across. Crowley was closest to her, and he made a grab for it immediately, the other three huddling around him to read it.
Beneathe the painted Skye, where saints do tread, in Darke where light hath fedde, lies the falleth eye. Ne'er sunne nor candell toucheth there. Seeketh where Wordes are whisper'd lowe,
And finde the One who Time did knowe.
Hide these Wordes as you would a treasure most deare, Anathema.
For those who walketh not by fate but by queer design shalle neede them.
When the Serpent and the Dove be as one, the Tyme shalle cometh
-The serpent and the dove - Aziraphale muttered beneath his breath, lightly grabbing the demon's wrist - I assume that means you and me -
-I know this is an objectively bad situation - said Eleyn, pressing a palm to her heart - But aww -
-Shut up - Crowley bit at her, earning an eye roll, then turned back to the prophecy, reading another bit out loud - The fallen eye…That's Raph, right? -
-It has to be - Muriel assured - And then there's this; the one who time did know. I doubt that's a coincidence -
-Right, so all we do is look underneath the painted sky and voilà, one Archangel! - Crowley prattled - If only we knew what she meant by that…painted sky… -
-Somewhere with a different colored sky? - Aziraphale thought out loud - I'm pretty certain we agreed it would be blue all over. Thenagain, that was years ago…-
-No, I don't think that's what she meant - Anathema weighed in, Crowley's eyes traveling up to her - Trust me, I've spent a good chunk of my life deciphering Agnes. She would never be that literal -
-Hey, what about all these other bits with saints and words whispered low? - Eleyn pointed out, eyeing the piece of paper - Maybe it's talking about a library or…or a church! -
-Oh, of course! - Aziraphale hit his forehead with an open palm - That would make sense, many churches have decorated ceilings! -
- Hence the painted sky metaphor - Muriel nodded her agreement.
-Okay, but how the fuck are we supposed to know which one? There's thousands of catholic churches out there. Tens of thousands - Crowley pressed, rereading the sentence time and time again.
-The prophecy doesn't give us much more to go on - Aziraphale sighed - Just "a painted sky" -
-The - said Newt, suddenly, almost gulping when the quartet pinned him with their gazes - It…it doesn't say a painted sky, it says the painted sky. I…I just thought it might be important… -
The neighbors might have woken up then from how loudly the penny dropped. Crowley's eyes flew open, and he turned his neck towards the angel so fast it could have snapped. Aziraphale was already waiting for him there, just as shocked. Muriel gasped, grabbing Eleyn by the arm, and God's daughter let her eyes close slowly, muttering something indiscernible under her breath.
-Oh, Pulsifer! - Crowley spun right around, clapping a hand to the witchfinder's back, the impact making him hunch over - You are a genius, you are! -
-Um… - Newt responded, a nervous smile on his face - Thanks? -
-Ohhhh, the painted sky - Anathema suddenly realized - She's talking about Michelangelo's frescoes! Good job, sweetie -
She placed a chaste peck on his cheek, and the witchfinder smiled, pleased.
-The Sistine chapel - Eleyn said - Of course Raphael is in the Sistine Chapel. Typical dick move Metatron would pull-
-Underneath it, to be precise - Aziraphale corrected - Where light hath fade, I believe, refers to the notoriously dark catacombs beneath the chapel -
-Wait, hold on - Anathema interrupted the excitement - You said Raphael was cast out eons ago. If they were moved into the catacombs of the Vatican City, wouldn't somebody have noticed them by now? -
-Not necessarily - the angel raised a finger - Human perception tends to get…fuzzy…when one begins blurring the edges between planes of existence -
-Metatrash must have put them there when the chapel was built - Crowley thought out loud - Heaven has constant eyes on the Vatican, the bastard took advantage of that to keep an eye on Raph with nobody noticing - he raised an eyebrow - Don't get me wrong, he's still a fucking arsehole; but that was a good move, I'll give him that -
-And if for some reason an angel would have wanted to search for them, the greatest symbol of the almighty on Earth would be about the last place they'd think of - Muriel added - After all, the official account is that Raphael attempted to betray heaven. You'd expect them to be rotting in a cave somewhere -
-Precisely - the angel pointed at the scrivener - Hidden in plain sight. He might as well have put up a flashing neon sign pointed directly at Raphael -
-Plus, that building is practically impenetrable to demons - Crowley sighed - It's as consecrated as it gets, that chapel. Pity, really. I'd always wanted to visit -
-You can't go in? - Eleyn gaped, surprised. They hadn't explained that bit to her yet, so it figured - How are we supposed to do this if you can't go in?! -
-Can't go in as in you'll…what? Die?- Anathema followed up the question, curious - Vaporize? -
-You know when you walk on the beach in bare feet in the middle of August? - the demon explained. Witchfinder and daughter of God nodded - Well, that's a normal church. The Sistine would be like walking on hot, molten lava mid-eruption. Fuck, there's a good chance my shoes will catch fire if I so much as grace that floor -
-I suppose we'll have to be rather careful to miracle ourselves outside the chapel - Aziraphale reasoned - And from there, we can surely figure something out. Hopefully -
-That's another thing - The scrivener suddenly perked up - We can't just miracle ourselves into the Vatican City, we'd set off a million different alarms in heaven within ten seconds -
-Yeah, but won't the sign do that anyway? - Crowley countered - Might as well just go for it -
-No, she's right - God's daughter interjected - If Metatron realizes what we're doing before we can get to Raphael, it's over -
The demon groaned an ensemble of vowels and consonants in what seemed like a mildly annoyed recognition of her point, and the six people standing in the cottage's little living room fell into a thoughtful silence.
-Perhaps - Aziraphale said a little bit later - It is time we exploit our new contact up above -
-Is it? - Crowley wrinkled his nose - Not to doubt your judgement, Angel; but they were working for the Metatron two minutes ago. Call me biased, but I don't trust any of them one fucking inch -
-I saw the pain in Uriel's eyes - the angel said, his steady voice leaving no room for doubt - The horror. The disgust. I don't trust Uriel any more than you do, but I do trust their rage-
-Nghhh…fine - the demon growled - 's much as it hurts my pride to ask those pricks for help, I guess it's our best shot -
Aziraphale gently stroked the back of the demon's arm in a comforting motion and, without removing his hand, turned his gaze towards Muriel and Eleyn, asking a silent question.
-I agree - the scrivener nodded - It's the best way. Probably the only one -
-Yeah - God's daughter doubled it down - Go ahead, do it -
-Splendid - the angel clapped his hands together, then spun on the ball of his foot and faced Newt, who perked up at the sudden eye contact - Do you know how to pray, Newton? -
Aziraphale all but jumped back the second Saraqael's image materialized in front of them. It took him a second to realize they hadn't been caught and humanity wasn't doomed; but rather, that the archangel had decided to join Uriel and the four of them in their fight against the Metatron.
Once his jumpy nerves had gotten back under control, the angel preened at how well his plan had actually worked. He, of course, couldn't have just begun praying; it would have given away their position immediately had it reached the wrong pair of ears. The same went for Muriel and Eleyn; and Crowley's demonic status never even made him an option. Newt, however, was nothing more than an inconspicuous human; nothing to suspect about him at all. They could have used Anathema as well, but Aziraphale was worried they'd recognise her name or her relation to Armageddon. So, Newton remained the only viable, risk-free option.
The plan itself was quite simple: Uriel was known amongst the most religious humans as the angel of transformation. They would pray to them to ask for prosperity, balance, wisdom, protection, aid in difficult situations and so on; and those prayers would be immediately filtered to Uriel's consciousness, and only to them. That was how the praying system worked. A sorter which threw jumbles of prayers into Archangels' minds, some of which would occasionally catch their attention. Of course, most never did, which was why it was so incredibly inefficient.
All Newt had to do, he and Muriel had explained, was pray for any of those things and slip in a message which would pick up Uriel's attention. Something pertaining to Raphael, perhaps, or a vague comment about a snake. An inconspicuous phrase which, to anyone else, would have sounded like complete nonsense; but not to Uriel.
In the end, they had managed to put a story of sorts together, and Newton hadn't wasted a second to fall on his knees and pray following the script they'd designed. It had been a nerve-wracking five minutes, but a connection had been made in the end, making them all sigh in relief.
-We don't have much time - Uriel immediately stated, stern as ever - This is stupidly risky, you know this, yes? -
-We're aware - Aziraphale nodded - We wouldn't have if it wasn't absolutely necessary -
-We found Raphael! - Muriel butted in, unable to help herself - We know where they are! -
-Fantastic! - the archangel exclaimed, showing a small smile for once - Where? -
-You'll never guess - Crowley hissed. Both Archangels' eyebrows went down in a frown. The demon spoke slowly - The Sistine fucking chapel -
Uriel and Saraqael's eyes shot wide open, their mouths hanging agape. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.
-That son of a…! - Saraqael caught themselves before committing blasphemy, clearing their throat - He put them in the Vatican?! All this time… -
-Yup - Crowley popped the p - Right under your divine noses. Normally I'd laugh my ass off at your stupidity but, well… -
-Sly move, Metatron. Credit where credit's due - whispered Uriel, raising an eyebrow. Their gaze then met Aziraphale's - I'm guessing the reason you need our help is to get into the city without heaven alarms blaring your position away -
-Precisely - the angel nodded.
-And to help us get Crowley in there without him getting cooked medium rare - added Eleyn, the demon grumbling his agreement.
-Can you do it? - the scrivener beckoned them, worried - Is such a thing even possible?-
-I'm not sure - Uriel sighed, then looked at the other archangel - Saraqael? -
-It is possible, but it would require me to be alone in the globe room - they sighed as well - Which will be difficult, given the re-doubling of the guards -
-Again?! - Aziraphale whined, annoyed - Did he not already double it when I escaped? -
-He did - they nodded - Very impressive metamorphosis, might I add. Anyway, once the four of you exited the National Gallery and stopped performing miracles, Metatron lost track of you. As a precaution, he placed more guards in the globe room and in all other entrances to Heaven -
Well, the good news was Metatron didn't know where they were, Crowley thought. Their non-miracle plan had actually worked. As long as they didn't break that rule, they would be safe. The bad news was that they were going to have to break it to get to Raphael.
-But - the archangel continued - Perhaps something can be done between guard shifts. If I'm able to get the guards out early and you, Uriel, distract the new coming ones, I might have enough time to sneak them in -
Uriel thought for a long moment, pondering the idea.
-It could work - they finally said - If we time it right. After all, they still believe we are under Metatron's orders. They wouldn't dare challenge us -
-Great! - Muriel cheered, relieved - When is the shift change? -
-Not soon - Saraqael's reply came immediately - You will have to wait at least a couple of hours. Once I'm ready, I'll briefly re-establish this connection. After that, you'll have about a minute to miracle yourselves there -
-Right, okay- the demon growled, his tone sardonic, then stepped forwards and leaned toward the archangel - And you're absolutely sure we'll be undetectable? 'cos if you fuck this up… -
-I guarantee it - they assured him - I've been the guardian of that globe for eons, I know how to manipulate it. Trust me -
-Oh, I'm not quite there yet - he half-snarled, looking them square in the eye. They seemed to flinch for a split-second, and the demon took a sharp inhale to break the sudden tension - But, for now, sure. Not like I have a choice -
-The plan sounds solid enough - Aziraphale stepped in, grabbing the back of the demon's arm once again -And what about Crowley? He can't get into the Sistine Chapel without bursting into flames, he's… -
-Oh, that won't be a problem - Uriel waved a dismissing hand in the air - A visitor's pass should suffice, I can hand it to you right before you go -
-Visitor's pass? - the demon frowned, genuinely confused.
-Oh, yeah, of course! - piped Muriel, a palm pressed to her forehead - The ones given to demons to grant them access to an embassy when negotiations are held! They give some sort of temporal protection against consecrated ground, so that they don't get hurt, right? Why didn't I think of that?! -
-What?! - Crowley spat, even more confused - Since fucking when?! -
-Quite a while, actually - said Uriel, matter-of-factly - Since churches were first built, if I'm not mistaken -
-Huh. Well fuck me - he muttered - You lot up there a full of surprises aren't you? -
-Heaven keeps its secrets well - without warning, Saraqael's voice had gone lower, more severe - A little too well, perhaps -
Aziraphale swallowed. Hard. He knew what they meant, the four of them had already figured it out; but a teeny, tiny part of him had still dared to hope that they'd been wrong. That the angels weren't in any real danger after all.
Going by the expression on the archangels' faces, they'd been dead right. He heard Muriel's soft gasp as Saraqael produced a paper folder from somewhere beyond the connection window and opened it to reveal the document Aziraphale had silently prayed didn't exist, two very recognizable signatures sitting in the bottom of the page.
Uriel and Saraqael had found the contract. The real one. It was there, it existed.
-Damnit… - breathed Eleyn, furious - Damnit damnit damnit! -
-If what it says here is true… - Uriel glanced at it nervously, a slight tremor in their voice - If Metatron wins… -
-We know - Muriel stated, barely able to breathe from the fear which had gripped her by the neck once again - They…we burn. All of us -
-That's not gonna happen - Crowley growled, determination blazing in his eyes - It's only if he wins, and that's a pretty big-ass if - He gripped Muriel's shaking form by the shoulder, and she whipped her head around to meet his flaming gaze - We're going to end this, you hear me? -
-He is exactly right - Aziraphale nodded, straightening his vest to emphasize the point - You make sure you get us to the Vatican, and we will finish this once and for all -
-Very well - said Uriel, solemn as ever - Two hours. For all our sakes, be ready -
With a resonating snap of their fingers, the archangels were gone, and all was silent. The four of them just stood there for a long moment, breathing. Crowley still held on to the scrivener, who had since stopped trembling. Aziraphale and Eleyn looked at one another, their minds racing like never before.
-And now we wait? - God's daughter muttered, not having any other words.
-And now we wait - Aziraphale repeated, his soft tone barely hiding the fear in his voice.
Anathema, who had been silently watching the scene alongside Newt, raised from where they'd both been sitting on the couch. She let out a long, heavy sigh.
-Tea? -
Aziraphale took a deep breath as he witnessed the beautiful, calm, perfect sunrise. The sun had already crept up a bit more than halfway through the horizon, and the warm light it cast flooded the cottage's backyard in a delicate, golden hue. The sky at that very moment was composed of a thousand different tones of blue, pink and light orange; and the early songbirds grazed through it, fluttering on and off the nearby branches as they welcomed the morning with their melodious chirps.
The angel took another breath, longer, deeper, this time letting his eyes flutter closed for no more than a second. It was such a beautiful sunrise, so calm, so peaceful; so betrayingly ordinary that for a second, only for a second, Aziraphale could have believed that it was just any other day.
It was strange, Aziraphale thought. With Adam, the potential end of the world hadn't had such an impact on him. He'd been sad and terrified at the possibility of it, certainly, but not quite like this. Not in a way that made his every muscle clench in fear, not in a way that made his every thought try to drown him. Perhaps, he wondered, it was because last time he hadn't really had a moment to reflect once the potentially final days had arrived - even now it was all a bit of a blur in his memories.
Or, maybe, Aziraphale reflected as his eyes flickered up to the demon sitting beside him on the garden bench, he hadn't realized then just how much he really had to lose.
Crowley's profile looked striking in the soft morning light, his amber eyes glistening a thousand times brighter than the sun itself and his coppery locks softly dancing in the small breeze. From where he sat, huddled close to the demon, Aziraphale could see each and every feature of his face, the sharp angle of his jaw, the intricate snake tattoo coiled below his ear. Gorgeous was the only word the angel could think of to describe what he was seeing, and words were not precisely something he often had a lack of. He smiled to himself and, for the first time ever, closed the small distance between them by planting a soft, paper-light kiss on Crowley's cheek.
The demon jumped, startled out of his thoughts by the sudden touch, but immediately turned his gaze to meet his angel's soft cerulean eyes. They were full of fear, and Crowley didn't like that at all, so in an attempt to comfort him he leaned every so slightly forward and kissed his upper lip softly; getting a small, satisfied huff from Aziraphale in response. When he leaned back, he realized his fingers had crawled up to the short curls in the back of the angel's neck of their own accord. Aziraphale smiled, making his heart flutter in his chest - would that ever stop happening? - and finally laid his head on the demon's shoulder, letting out a long sigh as Crowley's fingers caressed his skin.
For a long moment, both of them just sat there, chests heaving up and down in the same slow, peaceful rhythm. For a moment, they decided to just watch the sunrise together. To just be.
-What if… - Crowley said after a bit, talking slowly, his deep voice making Aziraphale feel a pleasant rumble - What if we make it a cottage? -
-Hm? - the angel replied, not understanding what the demon was talking about but wanting him to continue speaking nonetheless.
-The house - he clarified - With the gray marble counters, and the TV set and the tartan curtains…it should be a cottage -
-Oh - Aziraphale whispered, finally remembering the conversation they'd had in the National Gallery's kitchen - Yes. Wouldn't that be lovely? -
-Yeah - Crowley nodded, tilting his head down to meet the angel's gaze, a small smile inevitably pulling at his lips - Like this one, only in the middle of absolutely nowhere, where it's just you and me -
-Just you and me… - he reiterated in a whisper, smiling fondly back at the demon - I can think of no better way to spend eternity, my dear - he frowned slightly - But, where? -
-Somewhere in the south, I reckon - the other said - Sunnier. Or, well, less rainy -
-Hm… - Aziraphale thought for a second, picturing the many atlases he'd studied in the bookshop. After a few seconds, an idea came to him - How about the South Downs? -
-Yeah….yeah, that's perfect, Angel! - Crowley smirked, and it only made the angel smile wider - Perfect weather to grow geraniums, maybe some peace lilies…can you imagine; our very own garden? -
-I see a porch - the other said, closing his eyes as though picturing it in his mind - Not too big, just enough to fit a quaint tea table in its shade. I can read and have a cup while you tend to the garden plants…-
-Right, and you definitely will not be pretending to read while you watch me - the demon teased as his signature cheeky grin invaded his face, making Aziraphale giggle softly. Crowley thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.
-I really don't know what you mean - the angel responded with an over-dramatically prim and proper voice, a playful spark in his eyes; and the demon arched an eyebrow in response, making him giggle again before he promptly changed the subject - We should also have a pond in the garden; what do you think? -
-Oooh, yes! - the demon cracked a wide smile, perking up all of a sudden, like a kid who'd just been offered a piece of candy - We can have ducks, and ducklings and…oh, and I could grow peas to freeze and feed them! - he paused - No geese though, those are scary -
-Only ducks then. Some fish, perhaps - Aziraphale chuckled, never getting tired of his demon's infatuation with anatids - Anything else you'd like to add, my dear? -
-Hmm… - he thought for a moment, still smiling, a sudden playfulness invading his eyes - What about a bandstand? -
Aziraphale straightened up slightly and punched his arm, harder this time.
-Ow! - Crowley burst out laughing - 'kidding, Angel; I'm kidding! -
-Not funny - the angel said, laughing all the same as he let his head lightly fall back on Crowley's shoulder - You fiendish thing -
-A bench -the demon finally said - Where we can just sit together, like this one. Tell you what, I'll steal the one in St. James' park. Love that bench -
-Crowley, you can't just steal a bench - Aziraphale protested - Someone is bound to notice it's missing, don't you think? -
-Ehh - he replied, dismissing the angel's concerns with a wave of his hand - So long as they don't know where it's gone… -
The demon's gaze wandered upwards as he finished talking, and both of them fell into a comfortable silence, Crowley gently caressing the back of Aziraphale's neck, playing with his angel's soft curls; and Aziraphale closing his eyes as he let himself be lulled to tranquility by the demon's silky, mesmerizing touch. They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them wishing that moment would last forever.
-You know - Aziraphale broke the silence after a bit, his voice soft, his breath grazing Crowley's skin with every word - I read about this place in the South Downs once, Devil's Dyke it's called -
-Rings a bell - the demon murmured, his eyes still fixed on the sky as though half-lost in thought - Might've seen it in the paper sometime -
-They say it's one of the best stargazing locations in the country, if not the world - the angel explained, finally making Crowley meet his eyes again - Apparently, one could see even our galaxy from there. I thought, if we lived nearby, we could perhaps go for a stargazing picnic one evening -
-Sounds amazing - Crowley said, smiling at the mere thought of it. Both of them laid down in the grass, hand in hand, looking up at the sky and…oh - Well, you gaze at the stars; I'll gaze at you -
Aziraphale bolted upright the second he noticed, clapping a hand over his mouth, his eyes full of guilt.
-Oh, Dear, I'm so sorry, I… - he began firing apologies at a mile a minute - I wasn't thinking, I…I forgot. I never should have brought it up… -
-Hey, hey, c'mon - the demon wrapped a hand lightly around his wrist - 's okay, Angel. Don't worry about it, eh? -
-But…but you can't… - Aziraphale began, unable to shake the awful feeling that he'd been cruel - And I suggested… -
-Seriously, it's fine - Crowley smiled sweetly at him to prove his point, then turned his gaze to the sky - I can't see them, and that fucking sucks; but after a few thousand years I got used to the darkness at night - he paused, taking a small breath - 'Sides, I've got my own stars to look at whenever I want -
The demon shifted his gaze again, this time making it land squarely on Aziraphale's eyes. The angel's breath hitched, and he felt his face begin to burn. He must have blushed hard then, because the next second Crowley shot him one of those smirks; one of those Aziraphale had always wanted to kiss right of his face.
He didn't think about it twice, his heart beating so fast it would've gotten out of his chest and kissed Crowley itself had the angel taken a second longer to lock their lips together. The demon let out a coarse noise from the back of his throat and kissed the angel back instantly, his chest exploding in pure unfiltered joy.
After a few seconds they parted, foreheads still touching, and Aziraphale rested his palms on the demon's chest as it heaved up and down, out of breath. They both smiled, reveling in the moment.
-Cheesy - the angel teased, only making the other grin harder - Are you now going to tell me that I've bewitched you body and soul? -
-And I love, I love, I love you - Crowley instantly replied, his tone overly dramatic, making them both go into a laughing fit.
Their laughter cracked through the air of a barely awoken Tadfield, seamlessly blending in with the chirping birds and the leaves rustling in the wind. Right then, right that moment, it felt so right. So natural. Like that was what they were always meant to be, all this time. Embraced, laughing at one another, enveloped by a perfect, beautiful sunrise in a day just like any other.
But no happily ever afters came without a fight.
Aziraphale's eyes flickered past Crowley when he noticed the cottage's back door move and, when his eyes fell on Eleyn's figure behind it, he stopped laughing immediately. His throat closed, his smile dropped, his eyes became moist. Crowley frowned at the angel's sudden change of demeanor, but as soon as he realized where Aziraphale was looking, the penny dropped. It was over. The moment of respite they'd shared, the very last second of calmness before the biggest storm they'd ever faced - it was gone, and now it was time to jump headfirst into a probable catastrophe.
-Uriel is here - God's daughter said without needing to be asked, only letting her voice barely tremble - It's time -
-We…we'll be right there, dear - Aziraphale finally managed, once his breathing pipes had the decency to open back up - Won't take a second -
- They said we have less than two minutes - she whispered, lingering her gaze on both of them for just a second before slipping back into the cottage once again, the door purposefully left ajar.
Crowley took a deep breath the second he heard her steps retreat further away into the house, watching as Aziraphale averted his terrified, tear-struck azure eyes. He felt the angel's arms go limp and, right as his hands slipped off where they'd been resting on his chest, Crowley grabbed them softly out of reflex, enveloping Aziraphale's fingers with his own.
The latter's eyes flickered right back up to Crowley's amber gaze, equally fear-struck but with a small hint of something else which Aziraphale couldn't quite place.
His voice was soft when he spoke, the honesty in his tone shaking the angel to his core.
-It will be alright, Angel- he whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
One of his hands released Aziraphale's, traveling up to his face instead, where Crowley gently, delicately, caressed the angel's skin with his knuckles. The sweetness of that touch made Aziraphale shiver, rendering him speechless. That thing in the demon's eyes shone harder, and the angel was finally able to place it. It was a promise.
-I swear it -
What's this?! Phoenix is alive?!
YES I AM!
It's been months, I know, but I can explain! I had exams, then I was sick, then I had writer's block, then my professors decided that March would be the month we died of work overload...well, life, basically. But I have returned with another 10K word chapter which I very much hope you've enjoyed!
I had a tought time writing a couple of scene of this chapter, not gonna lie. The writer's block was severe. BUT we made it, here we are, and BOY OH BOY am I ready for the last three chapters (+ epilogue)!
In the next one: Fancy a trip to Italy, anyone? The Vatican City! Raphael! We finally find out who Enoch is and what he has to do with all this mess! (Any theories? hehehe) And then...what will happen after the next-to-last sign is used? You'll see :)
That's all from me now, I hope you've had an entertaining read and I also hope I don't have to make you wait another three years for the next chapter!
Nix, out! *Disappears in a fiery flame*
P.S.: Beerok, the bandstand line I (lovingly) wrote specifically for you. You know why hehehe.