ignition key. It turned.
âWhat?â he said.
âYou know,â said the angel helpfully, ââAnd thee Worlde Unto An Ende Shall Come, in tumpty-tumpty-tumpty One.â Or Two, or Three, or whatever. There arenât many good rhymes for Six, so itâs probably a good year to be in.â
âAnd what sort of phenomena?â
âTwo-headed calves, signs in the sky, geese flying backwards, showers of fish. That sort of thing. The presence of the Antichrist affects the natural operation of causality.â
âHmm.â
Crowley put the Bentley in gear. Then he remembered something. He snapped his fingers.
The wheel clamps disappeared.
âLetâs have lunch,â he said. âI owe you one from, when was it ⦠â
âParis, 1793,â said Aziraphale.
âOh, yes. The Reign of Terror. Was that one of your s, or one of ours?â
âWasnât it yours?â
âCanât recall. It was quite a good restaurant, though.â
As they drove past an astonished traffic warden his notebook spontaneously combusted, to Crowleyâs amazement.
âIâm pretty certain I didnât mean to do that,â he said.
Aziraphale blushed.
âThat was me,â he said. âI had always thought that your people invented them.â
âDid you? We thought they were yours.â
Crowley stared at the smoke in the rearview mirror.
âCome on,â he said. âLetâs do the Ritz.â
Crowley had not bothered to book. In his world, table reservations were things that happened to other people.
AZIRAPHALE COLLECTED BOOKS. If he were totally honest with himself he would have to have admitted that his bookshop was simply somewhere to store them. He was not unusual in this. In order to maintain his cover as a typical second-hand bookseller, he used every means short of actual physical violence to prevent customers from making a purchase. Unpleasant damp smells, glowering looks, erratic opening hoursâhe was incredibly good at it.
He had been collecting for a long time, and, like all collectors, he specialized.
He had more than sixty books of predictions concerning developments in the last handful of centuries of the second millennium. He had a penchant for Wilde first editions. And he had a complete set of the Infamous Bibles, individually named from errors in typesetting.
These Bibles included the Unrighteous Bible, so called from a printerâs error which caused it to proclaim, in I Corinthians, âKnow ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the Kingdom of God?â; and the Wicked Bible, printed by Barker and Lucas in 1632, in which the word not was omitted from the seventh commandment, making it âThou shalt commit Adultery.â There were the Discharge Bible, the Treacle Bible, the Standing Fishes Bible, the Charing Cross Bible and the rest. Aziraphale had them all. Even the very rarest, a Bible published in 1651 by the London publishing firm of Bilton and Scaggs.
It had been the first of their three great publishing disasters.
The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible. The lengthy compositorâs error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five.
2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher .
3. And bye the border of Afher, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali .
4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh .
5. Buggre Alle this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbefticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone with half an oz. of Sense should e bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @ *âÃ@;!*
6. And bye the border of
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]