Sleeping Late On Judgement Day by Tad Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

got to get hold of that devil horn. It’s my only bargaining chip.”
    To get Caz back
, I could have said, but didn’t have to. Clarence knew. He’d been in the parking garage with me when it all went sour, when Eligor went home with the angel’s feather and I was left with nothing but a couple of gallons of dissolving fake Caz. Clarence and Sam had basically carried me home that night, then poured me back out of a vodka bottle a couple of weeks later.
    The girls at the next table were ignoring their parents completely now. As the adults conversed quietly in what was probably some Indonesian dialect (if you think I know the difference between Balinese and Javanese you’ve definitely got the wrong angel) the girls giggled and squealed in English. “She
says
she’s getting an after-school job!” pronounced one of them with disdain.
    â€œAs a slut!” said the other. They both collapsed into laughter again. The parents and the old woman didn’t even look at them. They may not have understood English very well.
    The grown-ups probably don’t know much about what their kids are getting up to here in the Land of the Free
, I thought.
    This sparked an idea, which distracted me enough that I missed part of what Clarence was saying.
    â€œ. . . Because if this Kephas stashed the horn in Heaven somewhere, you’ll never find it, Bobby.”
    â€œNo, I don’t think that’s where it is.” But I was focused now on what the girls behind him had said—
after-school job
. “If you had something that belonged to an important demon, the last place you’d want to stash it would be Upstairs. Talk about something sticking out like a sore thumb! It would be like trying to hide a chunk of uranium in a Geiger counter factory.”
    â€œSo you think the horn’s somewhere here on Earth?” He snorted. “Should be easy to find after narrowing it down so far.”
    â€œSarcasm is like training wheels for the humor-impaired,” I informed him. “You want another beer?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’ve got something to do in a little while.” Suddenly he seemed to go a bit cagey. “But thanks. The buffalo washcloth thing was actually pretty good.”
    â€œYou’re a miracle of tolerance, Junior.” I flipped some money onto the tray to cover the bill and the tip. “I just thought of something I have to do, too.”
    â€œOh.” He looked disappointed. “I thought we might hang out a bit longer.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œNothing.” But he looked like it had definitely been something—the kid wore a mild but distinct air of disappointment. “I just wanted to talk to you about—never mind, it doesn’t matter. It can wait.”
    â€œGood. Because I just realized I have another resource besides the fabulous Mr. Fox who can give me some information about auctions—especially auctions for exotic objects, like angel feathers. And possibly demon horns, too.”
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    There are very few activities that are going to make a guy look and feel more like a pervert than driving slowly past a Catholic girls’ academy when school lets out, examining all the young women. (You have to look closely, because the uniforms make them look alike, you see. Honest, there’s a reason I was doing this.)
    I finally spotted her and eased up alongside the curb. Luckily for me, she was walking by herself. I had a suspicion she did that a lot. I rolled my window down.
    â€œHi. Can I buy you a milkshake, young lady?”
    She looked up with a slightly unfocused expression, as though she needed to see me before knowing whether she was being teased or actually threatened. She pushed her glasses up her nose, then smiled.
    â€œMr. Dollar! Hi. What are you doing here?”
    â€œLike I said, Edie, buying you a milkshake—if that’s okay. Can you spare me fifteen or