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

twenty minutes?”
    â€œSure. Do you want me to get in?”
    â€œProbably give people the wrong idea. The SJ Creamery’s just around the corner and down a block. I’ll meet you there.”
    Because of slow traffic from all the people picking up their daughters, Edie actually reached the place before I did. I settled in on the other side of the booth, facing her and her enormous backpack. Despite her youth, Edie Parmenter was one of the most acute sensitives in Northern California, and her after-school job had nothing to do with rolling burritos or stacking jeans at the Gap.
    We both ordered chocolate shakes. I was still fairly full from lunch, but it’s hard to turn down a serious milkshake, and that’s the kind they made there. “It’s weird to see you here, Mr. Dollar,” Edie said. “Not bad, I mean, just . . .” She laughed. “I totally didn’t expect you.”
    â€œMe and the Spanish Inquisition,” I said. “Sorry—old joke.”
    Edie gave me a stern look. “I know about Monty Python, Mr. Dollar. My dad quotes them all the time.”
    â€œOw.” I leaned back. “How’s life? How’s school?”
    â€œTenth grade completely sucks, but at least I don’t have to board at school this year. But I have to say I don’t think nuns make the best science teachers. Like, Sister Berenice was telling us the other day that humans only went to the moon to try to find God. And this other teacher told me that God hates San Judas because there are so many gay people living here.”
    â€œYeah, especially around the downtown fabric stores,” I said. “That’s a real problem for Heaven. Armageddon is supposed to start right here in the Pioneer District.”
    She looked at me carefully. “I get it. You’re joking. There’s nothing wrong with gay people.”
    â€œI agree. Not to mention that anybody who pisses off nuns is okay with me.” I paused while our shakes arrived, nodded thanks to the server, then unsheathed my straw. “Hey, I wanted to ask you something, Edie. The last time I saw you—remember?”
    â€œIslanders Hall?” She pushed back her glasses again so she could see to force her own straw into the thick shake. “The auction, yeah. That was totes scary! All those people shooting! And you knocked me over on my bike.”
    â€œIt was quite a night, all right. But I wanted to ask you to tell me what you remembered about it. Mostly I want to know who else was there.”
    I had picked the right girl. Edie reeled off a list—Japanese Crowleyites, some Jesuits, Scythian priestesses (Foxy had called them “Amazons,” I remembered) and more. But none of the names sparked any new ideas. I asked Edie in a roundabout way if she’d heard anything lately about a horn that might have the same kind of value as the feather, but she only shook her head.
    â€œOh, no! That feather—that was crazy! I’ve never heard of anything like that before. Not since then, either.” She paused for a moment, sorting something out in her mind. “The person who sent me that night, well, that person (she was walking around the pronoun, I noticed, protecting her client) wanted me to describe everyone else who was there, too, just like you.”
    â€œI don’t want to get you in trouble, but can you tell me anything about your client? Anything at all?”
    She put down her milkshake. “You know I can’t do that, Mr. Dollar. It’s bad business.”
    â€œI get it. Drink up, I understand. Okay, here’s another question. I have a real need to find out some things, and that night and the people who wanted the feather make a good starting point. Any chance your client would talk to me?”
    Edie’s eyes went big. “I don’t think so.”
    â€œWell, do me a favor. Contact him or her and ask, would you? Tell them it’s