The Book of Doom

HERE WAS A momentary commotion within the elevator, and then Herya was bundled out. The bouncer shoved her forward, then stepped out after her.

“Here she is, Mr Argus. Like you asked,” he said. “Gimme a shout if she gets out of hand.”

With a brief nod to his employer, the bouncer stepped back into the lift. Herya glared after him as the doors slid closed.

“Yeah,” said Herya. “That’s right. You’d better run, if you know what’s good for you.”

She stood up and dusted herself down, then looked over to Zac and Argus. When she saw the demon, her eyes widened just a fraction.

“All right?” Zac asked.

“Yes,” Herya said defensively. “Of course.”

“Herya of the Valkyries,” Argus said. He spoke her name grandly, as if announcing her arrival at a formal dinner party. “Such a beautiful girl, you no think, Zac? That hair. The wings.” He adjusted his fez and smiled more broadly than ever. “Beautiful girl.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you two know each other,” said Zac.

Argus laughed as he skipped over to the Valkyrie. “Ah, but if only I had such good fortune,” he said, planting kisses on both of her cheeks. “Today is the first day I have had the pleasure.”

Zac looked to Herya. “But I thought you said...?”

“No, I didn’t,” she replied quickly.

“But you—?”

She gave him the same look Argus’s nipples had given him just minutes before. “Leave it,” she said, then she added, “please.”

Zac gave an uncertain nod and leaned back into the couch. Argus took Herya by the elbow and steered her over to join him. “Please, sit. Little Angelo will be joining us...”

A squirming sack landed with a thud on the floor between them.

“...now.”

An enormous man in a small loincloth thudded down on to the carpet from a large hatch in the ceiling. The man straightened up and groaned as his back went click.

“Ooh, that’s better,” he said. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

The man had one eye set in the centre of his forehead. It blinked slowly as it looked at Zac and Herya.

Zac stood up. “Who is this?” he demanded.

“Ah, do not worry, do not fret. This is my assistant, Steropes,” said Argus. “Steropes is a Cyclops, yes? You see the irony? I have many eyes; Steropes has only one!”

Zac stared up Steropes. Aside from having just one eye, the Cyclops looked much like a man. A large, mean-looking man. With tattoos.

His hair was clipped short and a rough stubble covered his chin. He was stockily built, with a broad neck and bodybuilder arms. Although he wore no clothes aside from a worryingly small loincloth, his tattoos covered his skin like an all-over rash.

Despite his appearance, Steropes’s voice was soft and quiet. “Afternoon,” he said. He gave Zac a friendly nod, which the boy felt obliged to return.

“All right?” Zac asked.

“Yeah, not bad, not bad,” replied the Cyclops. “Thanks for asking.” As he spoke, he bent and tore open the sack, letting Angelo spill out on to the floor.

“Wh—?” Angelo spluttered, blinking frantically in the sudden light. He flailed around on his back for a moment, before scrambling to his feet. He screamed when he spotted Steropes – a high-pitched girly screech that made the glass in the chandeliers quiver.

“Whoa, easy, easy,” soothed the Cyclops. “Sorry about the whispering and the bundling you up in the bag an’ all that. Boss’s orders. Hope you weren’t too traumatised by it all.”

Angelo screamed again in response.

“Angelo, Angelo, relax,” Zac said. He stepped closer to the boy, then tried to pull back as Angelo threw his arms round him. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t break the bearhug.

“Oh, it was horrible,” Angelo gasped. “Just horrible!” Zac could feel the boy’s heart pounding inside his chest. He was uncomfortably warm to the touch, but he was still a few degrees away from being hot. “I thought I was never going to see you again,” Angelo sobbed. “Can you imagine how horrible that would be?”

Zac hesitated. “Horrible. Yeah.”

Angelo spotted the Valkyrie and yelped with delight. “Herya!” He detached himself from Zac and hurried over to her, his arms spread wide.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned. Angelo faltered to a stop just a few steps away from her, but his smile didn’t fade.

“You’re alive. We’re all alive!” He raised both hands triumphantly above his head. “Go, Superfriends!”

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. Angelo lowered his arms again.

“Nice, nice! Is very nice, yes? Happy reunion,” said Argus. “Please, my apologies for the way you were all brought here. In my line of work I find direct approach is simplest. Besides, I have an image to maintain, yes?”

Zac looked at the belly, the curly shoes and the tiny fez. “I’m sure you do.”

Angelo glanced nervously at Zac. “Is that... Is that him?”

“Argus the all-seeing,” said Argus. He did another twirl. His flabby torso undulated like a lava lamp.

“Why do they call you that?” asked Angelo.

Herya answered for him. “Legend says he’s got a hundred eyes.”

Argus nodded. “Very good! It does say that, doesn’t it? But legend, it is a fool. It knows nothing.”

“You haven’t got any eyes,” said Angelo, who had no intention of looking at any part of Argus below the neck, thank you very much.

“Ah, not here, maybe,” conceded the demon, tapping a manicured finger against his temple, “but everywhere else. Downstairs. Outside. All across Hades and all through the other Afterworlds.”

“Nipples,” blurted Herya. She was staring at them, apparently having just noticed them for the first time.

“Ah, yes!” Argus said. He puffed up his chest proudly. “You like?”

Herya faltered. “Not really.”

Argus grabbed two rolls of flab and made the belly-face again. “Oh, that is not vewy nice,” he said. Then he laughed, spun on the spot, and trotted over to an antique globe that stood just a little away from the fireplace. The lid flipped open and smoke billowed out from within.

Reaching inside the globe, Argus pulled out a foil-wrapped bundle. “Febab?” he offered. “My own creation. It is kebab meat and the Feta cheese, all wrapped together with chilli sauce.” He gave his belly a rub. “Hot. Spicy. Very nice.”

“I’m all right,” said Zac. He glanced along the couch to the others. “I think... yeah, we’re all OK for now, thanks.”

Argus shrugged and dropped the foil bundle back into the concealed barbecue, before closing the lid. “Where was I?”

“You were telling us you see everything,” Zac prompted. “All the Afterworlds.”

“Aha! Not just the Afterworlds,” Argus corrected. His empty eye sockets turned towards Zac. “Have you ever felt that tingle up your spine telling you ‘Hey! What is this? I am not alone!’? Have you ever had the feeling that someone was watching you? Like when you were in your bedroom, let us say, just before the Monk killed you?”

Zac thought back. The rooftop along the street. He thought he’d seen someone watching him just before he closed the curtains.

Argus saw the realisation spread across the boy’s face. “Yes, yes. That was me. You see, no matter what legend says, I am not having a hundred eyes. No, no. I am having a hundred billion of them. Watching. Always watching everything and everyone.”

Steropes leaned over him. “But not in a creepy way or that,” he reassured.

“Oh no,” said Argus. “Not in a creepy way.” He slapped a drumbeat on his belly before speaking again. “This is how I knew you were coming. And I must say, your antics in Asgard made for most amusing viewing. And you,” he said, fixing Angelo with an approving look, “you were the biggest treat of all.”

“I was?”

“You are – how you say? – remarkable, do you know?”

Angelo grinned. “I am?”

“Enough small talk,” interjected Zac, before the demon could give away what had happened in Asgard. “Can we get down to business?”

“Ah, yes, we must press on, I think,” said Argus. “But first, drinks. I have taken the liberty of preparing your favourites.”

Steropes recognised his cue. He scuttled over to a bar at the back of the room, then returned carrying a tray. Two glasses sat on it, both resting atop little paper doilies.

“For you, Zac, lemonade, just the way your grandfather makes it. You like this, yes?”

“Ha!” laughed Herya. “Lemonade. You’re such a child.”

“And for you, Herya of the Valkyries, yak’s milk, warmed to five degrees above room temperature.”

It was Zac’s turn to laugh. Herya blushed. “You’ve made a mistake,” she told Argus. “I drink ale.”

Argus frowned. “Oh. My apologies. I did not know this. I have watched you many, many times – almost every moment of your life – and I have not once seen you drink ale.”

“Well, I do,” she insisted. “Gallons of it.”

Zac patted her on the arm. “You know, there are organisations who can help you with that. Admitting you have a problem – that’s the first step.”

“Funny guy,” she said, and she flicked milk in his face.

“What about me?” asked Angelo. “I’m thirsty too.”

“Ah, yes,” nodded the demon. “We have a real treat in store for you, I think.”

Steropes set down the yak’s milk beside Herya, who made a point of ignoring it completely. He scurried over to the bar again. They all watched as he pulled a welder’s mask over his head and slipped thick gauntlets over each hand.

“We cannot be too careful, yes?” Argus said. The Cyclops stalked slowly back towards them. He was holding a pair of metal tongs and using them to carry a small silver flask.

Zac turned to Angelo. “What do you drink? Plutonium?”

The flask was set carefully on the table beside Angelo. Steropes quickly backed away, visibly relaxing as he did.

“Holy water,” Argus explained. “Lethal to demons. Your favourite, I believe, yes?”

Angelo’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’re not wrong there.” He unscrewed the lid of the flask and sniffed the contents.

“From eighteen seventy-eight. A very good year, I am told,” Argus said. “Blessed by Pope Pius the Ninth himself, mere days before his death.”

Angelo took a sip. He licked his lips, then smacked them together. “Yummy scrummy in my tummy,” he said. He grinned at Zac, who rolled his eyes in response.

“You said you knew what was in the tenth circle of Hell,” said Zac, steering the conversation back to more important matters.

Argus gave Steropes a nod as the Cyclops set a glass of dark red liquid down in front of him. “I did not say this. You said this.”

Zac frowned. “What?”

“I do not know what is in the tenth circle of Hell.”

“I thought you saw everything?” said Herya.

“I do,” nodded Argus. “Or I did. I knew many moons ago that they were starting work on the new circle. I saw them cut the turf and lay the very foundations, watched them build it brick by brick.”

“So what happened?”

“They did not build a door,” Argus explained. “Or windows. They have it locked down tight, sealed so the eyes of Argus cannot see in. Whatever they are doing down there, they do not want anyone knowing about it.”

“Wow,” said Zac quietly. “That must really kill you.”

Argus’s head twitched, as if he were shaking off a fly. “Yes,” he admitted. “It does. When you’re used to seeing everything, having a blind spot is very... troubling. Which is why I have a proposal for you.”

“What sort of proposal?”

“A – what is the word – a collaboration of sorts,” Argus said. “If I help you get to Hell and tell you what I know of the tenth circle, can you find a way inside?”

“Yes,” said Zac without hesitation.

Argus nodded. “Then I propose just that. I arrange for you to be transported to Hell, and give you some tools that may be of use. The rest is up to you. Once inside, you may retrieve your book and do with it as you will. It is of no interest to me.”

“And what’s in it for you?” asked Zac.

“Knowledge,” Argus shrugged. “This is all. I would ask that you leave an eye or two of mine behind when you make your escape. This is not too much to ask, I think?”

Zac looked to his companions. Angelo shrugged. Herya glanced away.

“OK. We can do that.”

“I am very glad to hear it,” Argus replied. He held his arms out to the side, dropped to one knee, then bounced back up again. “We celebrate with dance, yes?”

Angelo stood up. “Conga, conga, cong-a!”

Zac shot him a withering glare, and Angelo reluctantly sat back down again.

“We’ll probably just shoot off,” Zac said. “If it’s all the same to you.”

“Very well. But you should know, Zac,” said Argus, “about Haures.”

“The Duke of Hell guy? What about him?”

“He knows you are coming. He wants you to come.”

Zac paused while this new information sank in. “Why?”

“That I do not know,” Argus admitted. “But Haures is a monster.”

“Says the man with the child-skin statue.”

“Haha. There are different types of monster, Zac, some worse than others. Whatever Haures wants you for, I cannot imagine it is anything good.”

“Right,” said Zac. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“As will I,” said the demon. Argus slapped himself on the belly. It made a sound like the cracking of a whip, and every part of him from his neck to his waistband rippled. “Are you ready, Zac Corgan?” he asked. “Are you ready to mount your assault on the domain of Satan himself?”

Zac stood and looked the demon squarely in the nipples. “Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Why the Hell not?”





“ABRIEL, THERE YOU are. Have you brought news?”

“Not much, sir, I’m afraid.”

“Has he got the book yet?”

“Alas, no, sir. Not yet. The operation is ongoing.”

“Hang it all. What’s taking them so long?”

“The methods they are employing are... unexpected, sir.”

“Oh? How so?”

“They went to Asgard, for starters. Entered the Hall of Valhalla and had something of a falling-out with Odin. Young Angelo got... upset.”

“How upset?”

“Very upset, sir. If you know what I mean?”

“Of course I do! I wasn’t created yesterday. Has he calmed down yet?”

“Mercifully, yes.”

“Well, that’s something, although I don’t see why you had to send the boy in the first place.”

“He volunteered, sir.”

“Yes. So I’m led to believe. Where are they now?”

“Hades, sir.”

“Hades?”

“Yes, sir. Hades.”

“Why are they in blasted Hades? What’s in Hades?”

“Argus, sir. We believe they’ve asked for his assistance.”

“Hrmph.”

“We thought that was rather resourceful, sir.”

“Hrmph.”

“Rest assured, everything is continuing as planned, despite their unorthodox strategy.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Oh, no, sir. Everything is unfolding as we anticipated. They’ll be inside Hell within the hour. Whether they’ll make it back out, of course... Well, that remains to be seen.”





AC AND ARGUS stood by a wide window, looking down through gaps in the cloud. The ground was a dizzyingly long way away, and it was impossible to make out many details. Even the River Styx was little more than a squiggly black pencil line on a vast black page.

“And that’s it?” said Zac, when Argus had finished telling him how to get to Hell. “That’s all there is to it?”

“This is all there is,” Argus said. “This is all you need to do. It is only a few miles downriver.”

“It seems too easy.”

The hollows of Argus’s eye sockets widened in surprise. “You would prefer difficult?”

Zac scratched his chin. “No, of course not.” He shook his head. “It’s just... nothing’s ever that easy.”

Argus clapped Zac on the back. “You worry too much, Zac Corgan,” he laughed. “What you must remember is that no one has tried breaking into Hell before. No one has ever been so – what is the word?”

“Insane?” suggested Herya, who was standing by the child-skin statue, looking up at it.

“Foolish,” said Argus. “Only a fool would try to break into Hell, so they do not worry too much about building defences, I think.”

“Oh, well, thanks for that,” Zac said. He had to admit, though, it did make sense. Only a fool would try to break into Hell.

“Steropes will take you to the Styx. I have a boat there you can borrow. Borrow, yes? I would like it back. It is not too big, but it can float very good. All you must do is follow the Styx and soon you will find the Hell you are looking for.”

“That’s all, eh?” Zac mumbled. He turned from the window to look for Angelo and found the boy standing right behind him. Angelo smiled eagerly. “You sure you still want to come?” Zac asked.

“I Scooby-dooby-do!” Angelo yelled. He caught Zac’s expression. “That was a yes, by the way.”

Zac nodded. “Fine.” He looked over to Herya. “You ready?” he called to her. “We’re leaving.”

“You’re leaving,” said the Valkyrie.

“What?”

“I never said I was coming with you. I said I’d take you to Argus.” She pointed to the bare-chested demon. “There’s Argus. Job done. You’re on your own from here on in.”

“But I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Zac glanced at the others, then back to Herya. He strode over to her. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” he asked, ushering her towards the far corner of the room.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “I’m not coming. I never said I was.”

“Maybe not,” Zac admitted, “but you never said you weren’t, either. I thought you were into this stuff – adventure and excitement and all that.”

Herya folded her arms. “Yeah, well I thought you didn’t want me coming along. You work better alone, you said.”

“I did. I do,” said Zac. “But, well, you’ve got experience of these places. You’re our expert. You know your way around. You said so yourself.”

“Ooh, liar, liar pants on fire!” called Argus from across the room. He slapped himself on the hand. “Sorry. I lip-read. It is a terrible habit.”

“She wasn’t lying. She does know her way around. She led us here.”

“Oh, really?” said Argus. “You ask her yourself.”

Zac turned back to the Valkyrie. “You do. Don’t you?”

Herya sighed softly. She shook her head. “He’s right. I don’t know anything.”

“What? Yes, you do. You knew about the Nether Lands, about Hades and Eyedol. You’d been to them all before, you—”

“I haven’t been anywhere.”

Zac blinked. “What? But...”

“I haven’t been anywhere, OK?” The Valkyrie looked down at the floor. “I’ve never even left Asgard before today. I’ve barely set foot outside Valhalla.”

“But... all those things you knew.”

“People talk,” she said. She shrugged, sending a stab of pain through her injured wing. “Especially when they’re drunk. They talk. I listen. I hear them going on about all these... these amazing places, and they sound so exotic and exciting and... I never thought I’d get to see any of them. So I just listened. And I’ve been listening for a long time.”

Angelo appeared at Zac’s back. “That’s OK,” he said cheerfully. “We don’t have a clue where we’re going, either. She can still come, can’t she?”

Zac searched Herya’s face. “She doesn’t want to,” he said at last. “Do you?”

Herya met his gaze just briefly. She shook her head. “Guess I’m not as tough as I say I am. I’ve never even been in a real fight before. Some warrior, huh?”

Zac didn’t quite know what to say. “What will you do?” he asked.

“Go back to Asgard,” Herya said. “Face my punishment. Hope they take me back.”

“We could still use you,” Zac told her. “You knew about these places. It doesn’t matter how you knew. You knew about them. We could use your help getting the book back.” Zac glanced back at the others and lowered his voice. “I could use your help.”

Herya drew in a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted, and her voice cracked with the weight of the word. “I don’t want to go to Hell. I don’t want to die. Not for the sake of some book.”

“It’s not just some book.”

She smiled sadly. “It is to me.”

“But... the team,” whimpered Angelo. “You can’t break up the team!”

Zac leaned back and folded his arms. “Forget it, Angelo. She’s made her mind up.”

“But... but, the team!”

“There is no team,” Zac snapped, suddenly angry. Angelo took a startled step back. “Don’t you get it? There’s me doing the work and then there’s you tagging along and getting in the way.”

He saw the wounded look on Angelo’s face and felt that pang of guilt in his chest again. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, but there was no denying the facts. “I’m the one they picked to get the book back. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“You do need this, though,” said Argus, holding up a small black rucksack and grinning like some demented clown. “It may be of assistance. Usually it is not possible to bring things with you in or out of Hell, but anything inside this bag will make it through. I have placed some eyes in there. Once you are inside, you know what to do, yes?”

“I know what to do,” said Zac, swinging a strap of the bag over his shoulder.

“Are you sure I cannot tempt you with some weapons?” the demon asked. “A flaming sword or two, maybe?”

“They’ll just get in the way,” Zac said. “The plan is to sneak in and out. If we get caught, then it’s game over. Swords won’t help.”

“You are wise beyond your years,” Argus acknowledged. He lifted his tiny fez in salute, then replaced it on his head. “And you are right, of course. But perhaps you will take this, at least?”

He passed over a leather case about the size of a small laptop computer. A slim buckle held it closed. Zac unclipped it and the case fell open.

“A gun?”

“A tranquilliser pistol,” Argus said. “The darts, they are tipped with a unique blend of draughts and potions. They will send a manticore to sleep for a week, and they will do the same for any demons you meet.”

Zac took the pistol from the case and tossed it from hand to hand, assessing the weight. “How many darts are in it?”

“Eight,” Argus said. “This is all I have. The materials required for the poison are not easy to come by.”

Zac tucked the gun into a fold inside his jacket. “Right,” he said. “And, well... thanks.”

“Do not thank me, Zac Corgan,” Argus said. “It is you who are doing me the favour, yes? Deliver my eyes. Find your book.”

“I will.”

“Well, yiassas,” Argus said, then he leaned in and pecked Zac on both cheeks. “Yiassas, Angelo,” he continued, moving to kiss him too.

“Ugh, get off!” Angelo yelped, ducking for cover behind Zac. “I’m not kissing a demon!”

Argus looked puzzled. “What? But you are—”

“Leaving,” said Zac hurriedly. “He’s leaving. We both are. Right now.”

Herya was suddenly standing beside them. Zac turned to her.

“Changed your mind?”

“No,” the Valkyrie replied. “I was just going to wish you luck.”

“I don’t believe in luck,” Zac told her. “Come on, Angelo. We’re going.”

He turned and made for the lift. Angelo hung back. He started to close in on Herya for a hug, then thought better of it and just waved instead. “Bye, then,” he said, then he scampered after Zac and ducked into the elevator just as the doors swept closed.

“Bye,” whispered Herya, watching the lights above the lift door begin counting down.

“Do not feel bad, Herya of the Valkyries,” Argus said. “Not everyone can be the fearless hero.”

He turned and flashed her his toothiest of grins. “Now, are you going to leave quietly?” he asked. His hands went to his belly and he formed the folds into the shape of a mouth once more. The flab-roll lips wobbled up and down as he made them speak: “Or must we have you killed?”

Zac and Angelo stood at a ramshackle wooden jetty on the banks of the River Styx. The black water burbled and boiled, bobbing a small motorboat up and down on its surface.

Above them, the clouds were a ceiling of grey, and in all directions the monochrome landscape was empty and sparse.

“Turned out nice again,” said Steropes cheerfully. He was crouching down on the jetty, pulling the boat in with one massive hand.

Angelo shuddered. “This is nice?”

“Well, it isn’t raining acid, and we haven’t got the old toxic fog hanging about, so, yeah, I’d call that a right result.” Steropes hauled the boat up to the edge of the small pier and held it steady. “There you go. In you hop.”

Zac jumped down into the boat, then watched as Angelo fumbled around on the jetty’s edge.

“Come on, hurry up!” Zac urged.

“I’m coming, give me a minute,” Angelo replied. He sat on the pier’s edge, then twisted on to his front. His legs dangled just a few centimetres above the boat, his toes stretching and kicking as they tried to find purchase.

“You’re there, just jump.”

“Stop rushing me!”

“Stop being so hard on your friend – he’s doing his best,” Steropes suggested.

“He’s not my friend, he’s my colleague,” Zac said.

Angelo’s arms had been wobbling with the effort of holding him up. They gave out then and he fell, screaming, into the boat. It rocked violently from side to side for a moment, before Steropes managed to steady it again.

“There we go,” the Cyclops said. “That’s you in.” He pointed downriver in the direction of the flow. “You want to go that way. There should be plenty of fuel, but if you see anything moving in the water, you’ll be best cutting the engines for a while.”

Zac’s head snapped up. “Anything moving? What do you mean? What’s going to be moving?”

“Who knows?” said Steropes. “The river runs through some nasty places. There are bound to be a few things swimming around down there.”

“Great,” Zac tutted. “It would’ve been nice if Argus had mentioned that when we were planning this whole thing.”

Steropes shrugged. “It would, but then he’s a demon. He’s not supposed to be nice.”

“You’re quite nice, though,” Angelo said. Steropes’s face lit up.

“Well, thank you, Angelo,” he said. “I really appreciate that. And sorry again about putting you in a bag. It was nothing personal, honest.”

“It’s fine,” Angelo said. “I quite enjoyed it. Not at the time, but looking back, I mean.”

“All this male bonding’s great and everything, but we really should get going,” Zac said.

Steropes frowned. “What?”

“I said the male bonding – it’s nice, but we need to move.”

“Male bonding?” said Steropes. His eyebrows rose and his voice took on a higher pitch. “What are you saying?”

“What do you mean, what am I saying?”

“I’m not male!”

“You’re... You’re not?”

“No!” Steropes yelped. “I thought that would’ve been obvious!”

Zac stared at the Cyclops’s stubble and bare, muscular chest. A shudder travelled the length of his spine. “My mistake,” he said.

Steropes released her grip on the boat. “Right,” she said, suddenly sounding much less friendly than she had just a moment ago. “Well... off you go, then.”

Angelo unfolded himself and slid on to a wooden bench at the front of the boat, just as it began to drift down the river. “Bye, Steropes,” he called, waving enthusiastically. The firing-up of the boat’s motor cut off the Cyclops’s reply.

“You know,” Angelo said, “I’m going to miss him.”

“Her,” Zac corrected.

“Her. Right.” The same shudder ran down Angelo’s back. “I forgot.”

“I wish I could,” Zac muttered, then he steered the boat towards the centre of the river and chug-chug-chugged off in the direction of Hell.