15.5

 

“I shit you not,” Steve grinned as he extracted the glasses from his pocket. He inspected them carefully and used the corner of his shirt to polish the single lens. Satisfied it was dust free, he passed them to Paul. Have a look yourself.”

“If this is an elaborate joke…” Paul left the sentence unfinished  and he took the glasses and examined them. He put his finger trough the gap where the right lens would be. “Why is there only one lens”?

“Because you have no idea what it cost me to get just one. Let’s just say if I’d obtained two I probably wouldn’t have survived the purchase.”

“Gee.” Roisin craned her neck to see them in Paul’s meaty grip. “What did it cost? Are they magical?” She put the tray on the floor and stood to get a better view. “They look the same as any other glasses, only without the black tape over one side.”

“That’s because I got the frames in a pound shop.” Steve shook his head. They don’t actually sell magically enhanced glasses at Boots the Chemist, you know. What I bought was the enchanted glass. I had to fit it into the frame myself. I think I did a pretty good job, actually.”

“If you made one lens, why didn’t you make two?” Paul placed the stems carefully over his ears. “Everything looks exactly the same as usual.”

“That’s because you’re looking toward the kitchen, and there’s bugger all supernatural in there, except how that bloody cheese never goes mouldy.”

“Cheese? What cheese?” Paul turned a slow circle, his head bobbing up and down. “Hey! I can see something up there. Something sparkly like a holiday. What have you got up there?” He lowered the glasses down his nose and looked over the top of them. “Now I can’t see it. That’s a good trick, that it.”

“It’s not a trick. Those are my artifacts.” Steve flashed Roisin an ‘is he an idiot’ look. “The cheese in the fridge. Some sort of ancient cheddar so mild it has virtually no taste but it melts really easily.”

Paul removed the glasses and turned to face him. “Is this cheese in a Tupperware container with a notice on the lid saying ‘Paul’s. Do not eat?’”

Steve looked suddenly shifty again. “I can’t say as I’ve noticed any lettering.”

Paul laughed as he put the glasses back on and resumed his rotation of the room. “That’s not cheese, mate. That’s a block of pine resin. I use it for a final finishing polish on marble. You didn’t eat any, did you?”

“Nah. ‘Course not. I respect other people’s property too much.”

“Glad to hear it, mate.” He finished his circumlocution and gazed at his flatmates. “You two a sparkly, too, though Steve more so. Ros, you’re barely even glittering.”

“That’s why I think she needs to go to a hospital.” Steve reached over and plucked the glasses from his nose. He put them on and looked at her. “He’s right, though. You’ve had a lot of soul ripped out of you.”

Roisin sat again. “How much has gone?”

“I can hardly answer that can I? Not knowing how much you’re supposed to have. Everyone varies to some degree, anyway. People with longer lives generally have more than kids and animals do, and inanimate objects have even less. Not that you’re inanimate.”

“How can I get more?”

“Rest, mostly, Unless you’re a vampire, then you can go and steal it from someone else. It does explain why you look as if you’re lost weight, though.”

“How soon do I need more? Is it dangerous to only have however much I’ve got?”

“Let’s just say that if you were a car it would be flashing to ‘low fuel’ warning light.” He shrugged. “On the positive side, it does regenerate naturally.”

“And on the negative?”

“I wouldn’t advise running into another soul collector.”

“There’s that word again.” Roisin crossed to the back window and looked out over the garden. The flat downstairs was dark, and nothing was moving on the grass. “What is a ‘soul collector’ and what does it do?

“It’s kind of like an angel.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Paul took back the glasses and put them on again. “I like angels, and Ros can see them.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t see this one.”

“Not a romantic version of an angel.” Steve’s face looked as though he’d stepped in dog shit. “Haven’t you ever read your Bible. Angels are terrifying. There’s a damned good reason they say ‘Be not afraid’ when they manifest, although if you’re seeing one close-up you should be very, very afraid.”

“Why?” Roisin turned from the window. “What do they do?”

“They want everyone to go to Heaven.” Steve noticeably swallowed, as if he was taking a massive tablet without water.”

“Still sounds pretty good to me.” Paul joined Roisin at the back window. “My mum would be dead happy to find out Heaven is a real place.”

Steve held up one hand. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t making myself very clear. When I say they want everyone to go to Heaven what I mean is they want all the souls to go back to heaven, because they think that’s where they should be.”

“Yes?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“That would leave the world barren and lifeless.”