“Thanks.” Chaya watched him go back into the passage leading to the shrine room.
She peeped out from the gateway into the green lawns and rectangular pools of the royal complex. A tiny walkway snaked in front of her, heading through the palace grounds and upwards into the Queen’s prayer hall.
Chaya looked around and took a deep breath. In about six hours Neel would be taken out of his underground prison cell, on the way to his death.
She patted her pocket to check she still had the explosives. She was ready. Chaya stepped over the threshold and into the walkway.
She was inside the royal complex.
Chaya strode purposefully down the walkway. If someone were to see her now, no excuse would save her. She left the path and went into the terraced gardens, creeping downwards from the side.
She crouched behind a low wall and took stock of her surroundings. This was the ground level, with the wide promenade in front of her. In the distance she could just about make out two guards on either side of the bricked archway into the prison complex.
Chaya edged towards it, keeping close to the palace’s boundary wall. The good thing was there was plenty of greenery on the prison side. Unlike the manicured lawns and delicate foliage of the formal gardens, the entry to the prison compound was full of mighty trees and rough shrubbery.
She froze as one of the patrolling figures turned towards her. She stayed stock-still, hoping she blended into the surroundings in her dirt-coloured clothes. The figure turned back as it continued to pace around the grounds.
Chaya continued on, almost flat against the boundary. High guard posts stood at regular intervals along the wall, but luckily for her they were looking outside at intruders trying to get in. She passed low under them, so close she could hear snatches of conversations inside each of them.
“Going to the wrestling with Samar this weekend?” said one of the guards to another, as Chaya passed stealthily under them.
“Leela is getting popular. I don’t think the big boss will be happy,” laughed someone in the next guard post.
“Urgh, dinner at my grandma’s again. Her yam pudding’s so runny,” went the chat in the next post, and so on, the guards going on with their inane chatter as Chaya crept ever closer towards Neel.
At last Chaya was on the prison side. She climbed deftly up a hal tree, her toes gripping its gnarled bark. At the top she moved over from branch to branch, avoiding an annoyed monkey and getting as close as possible to the prison entrance on its overhead canopy of trees.
She froze at the sound of a voice below.
“He’s pretty young, isn’t he?”
Chaya leaned over and peered down through the leaves. Two guards sat on a boulder, munching on sticks of sugar cane.
“I mean, he was actually crying at one point. It’s not right.”
Chaya felt a stab of pain right through her heart.
“Shh,” said the other. “Someone might hear. We can’t question these things.”
“Yeah, I better keep my mouth shut. I just feel … shame.”
The guards fell silent, as only the crunch-crunching of their sugar cane broke through the rustle of the trees.
Chaya moved to the end of the branch, and swung on to a wood-apple tree next to it. The branch dipped down dangerously under her weight, and she scrabbled to grab something firm. A wood-apple fell from an upper branch and bounced down near her. Chaya lunged for it, rocking the branch again, and a few more of the hard fruits fell down below.
Down to where the guards were sitting.
Chaya held her breath.
“Ow,” said a guard, rubbing his head where the fruit had struck. He swore and lobbed the fruit hard against a tree, where it cracked on the trunk and fell down, the brown pulp rolling away.
Chaya held her breath. As long as they didn’t look up, she was fine.
“What was that?” said the other guard.
And he looked up.
Chaya froze, crouching low on the branch, her hands gripping the stalks growing out of either side.
The man stared up in her direction, then shook his head. “Stupid monkeys are a menace,” he said to his partner.
Chaya exhaled. Hopefully the man was just short-sighted.
She moved along through the branches, jumping from tree to tree, sometimes coming across a group of monkeys. They stared as she passed, an intruder in their territory.
Finally she was directly over the prison building. Somewhere in there sat Neel, waiting as the hours ticked away.
Now she needed to create a diversion. She stuck her hand into her pocket and drew out a stash of fireworks. They were from the New Year celebrations. She’d found them in Father’s shed, then spent some time stringing them together. And one of the good-for-nothing boys from the riverside that Aunty so despised had also helped her with a device to cause a smokescreen. But that was for later.
She struck a match and lit the end of the string. It fizzled and sparked up, the flame zipping downwards at speed. Chaya drew her arm back and threw it as hard as she could.
She knew exactly what she was aiming for. The explosives fell at the back of the prison, where the open kitchen was and where she knew nobody would be at this time of the morning. The whole thing exploded mightily, bits of clay pots and pans shooting all over the place and clumps of old congee splatting into the air.
Chaya was nearly thrown out of the tree in spite of bracing herself for the noise. Around her the trees vibrated and monkeys screeched, and from below came shouts and the sound of panicked running. A line of dish rags caught fire, and guards came pouring into the area from all over.
Chaya swung down and dashed into the prison building.
The place smelled as bad as before, all dampness and sweat, but no one was about in the entrance hall. She hurried to the passage of cells she had visited the previous day. The iron railing barred it, locked shut.
“Neel!” she shouted through the bars. “Neel, can you hear me?”
All she could see was a toothless man in the first cell, who surveyed her with interest.
An answering cry came from the last cell. “Ch-Chaya?” Neel sounded incredulous.
“Yes! Neel, where are the keys to the gate?”
There was a roar and crackle of the fire, and a gust of smoky air blew in through the entrance.
“I … I’m not sure,” said Neel, and his hands gripped the iron bars at the bottom of the passage. “What are you doing here? Get out before they find you.”
“I’m going to get you out first. Let me go and look for the keys.”
That made two doors to unlock before freeing Neel.
“You need Jansz,” said the toothless man in the first cell.
“Pardon?” said Chaya.
The man looked at her impassively. “That’s the man who’s in charge of the keys.”
“Do you know where he keeps them?”
But he stared through her as if he had never been talking at all.
“I take it that’s a no then. OK, hold on tight, Neel. I’ll be back.”
The outer hall was still empty, and through the doorway over the top of the stairs she saw thick black smoke in the air. Something else seemed to have caught fire. Chaya paused for a moment and listened. Hopefully no one was hurt. There was a cacophony of shouts and water sloshing as guards fought to contain the fire.
Chaya coughed, her throat feeling itchy and dry. The keys had to be here somewhere. She hunted all around, but there was no sign of them. She bent over the ledge under which the prison logs were kept and swept her hand around the recess to check if they were there.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Chaya sprang up on the ledge and hoisted herself on to a torch bracket on the wall. A very large man with an open mouth and chipped teeth tramped into the entrance hall, a chinking noise coming from him every time he moved. She watched him from her perch above, and when he passed under her she saw something glint at his side. The man had a bunch of keys on his belt
.
A bunch of keys.
So this must be Jansz.
Chaya dropped down on top of him and grabbed for the keys. He staggered around with her on his head, roaring while she threw a canister to the ground. Smoke billowed everywhere.
Jumping off the guard, she raced to the railing and fitted a key into it. She bent low to see through the smoke, fitting key after key with shaking hands while Jansz staggered towards her through the haze.
One of the keys slotted in and Chaya yanked the gate open with a loud creak. She was slipping through when she was pulled up short by a jerk from behind as Jansz lifted her clean off the floor.
As the smoke cleared, she found herself face to face with him, pressed against the wall with her feet dangling above the ground. “Really sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Jansz’s nostrils flared as he brought his face, purple with rage, closer to Chaya’s.
Jansz slammed Chaya against the wall, a sharp pain slicing through her head as it hit the stone. His hands closed around her neck.
“Hey, wai––” Chaya’s words were cut off as his hands tightened round her throat.
She kicked and clawed at the man but his grip only increased. She had to do something or she was going to be of no use to Neel.
The world edged into black.
Then Chaya slammed on to the ground where she was roughly shaken. A dark face swam into view.
What was happening? Had Jansz changed his mind? Chaya blinked, and someone yanked her to her feet.
“Chaya, focus. We need to get out.”
It wasn’t Jansz.
“Neel?”
Neel’s blurry face hovered in front of her.
Chaya swallowed down nausea as the view slowly solidified. Jansz lay on the floor, blocking the whole passage.
“Don’t worry,” said Neel. “He’s coming to already.”
Chaya shook her groggy head. “Neel, how on earth?”
“The tools you brought me, Chaya. I was sawing all last night. Managed to get out just in time.”
Chaya whooped. Things were on track again. The bunch of keys were on the floor and she kicked them under the bars to the toothless man in the first cell. “There you go. A gift from us. Let’s go, Neel.”
They darted out into the hall and started up the steps.
And that was when they saw them. Every one – and it did look like every single one – of the guards had returned and they were all staring at Chaya and Neel with undisguised anger.
Chaya felt pressed in on all sides as the guards surrounded her and Neel. She was swept up in the throng, and half dragged, half carried up the stairs and out of the underground prison. On the edge of her vision Neel was being borne away too.
She blinked in the sudden daylight. “Where are you taking us?”
“Straight to General Siri. Let’s see you try to get out of this,” said a man. “You and your friend can both lose your heads.”
On the promenade more guards joined the dozens already surrounding the children, pushing them towards the palace.
There was a shout from somewhere above, and Chaya felt a shock ripple through the swarm of guards.
“Hey!” came a familiar voice. A figure stood high up on the steps leading to the inner palace, silhouetted against the giant lion statue.
A figure in a floaty red dress.
“Hey, fools! Look behind you,” yelled Nour.
The throng turned round, and the guards went crazy. There were shouts of dismay as they shot off back the way they’d come. Chaya stood on tiptoe to try to see over the people. Whatever was going on?
All the prisoners had escaped and were currently making their way to freedom. The toothless man from the first cell was at the front, running away merrily.
Chaya slipped out of her guard’s grasp while he was distracted. He tried to grab her by the plait but she twisted away from him and ran. Someone stuck out his foot and sent her flying till she landed with a thwack on the gravelled ground, hands outstretched. Another guard brought his foot down over her hand, but she whipped it away just in time and bounded up, sprinting between two other men coming her way. She could see Neel up ahead, also free and running. He slowed down to let her catch up.
“No – go, Neel,” shouted Chaya. “Meet you at the jambu tree.”
Neel sped off. A young guard pulled at her but she kicked him away. Two of the King’s men were heading for her. Chaya changed direction, zigzagging through the formal gardens. One of them was gaining on her. He ran up and caught the edge of her skirt. She plucked it away and turned a corner. A small flight of steps led downwards.
Chaya missed her footing and slipped.
And went crashing down the steps.
She landed in a heap at the bottom. Pain shot through her ankle and she screamed. She bit down on her fist and crawled into a bush of coral flames.
“She’s here somewhere. She’s got to be.” There was a sound of thrashing leaves as the men searched through the foliage.
Chaya inched her way through the shrubbery. She circled her ankle with her hand and the warmth soothed the pain a little. She couldn’t put her weight on it – she’d just have to crawl. How on earth would she get to Neel at the jambu tree?
There was a shout of triumph. “Look, she’s dropped something.”
“A box of matches! It was her then. Wait till I get her to General Siri.”
Chaya dragged herself towards the walled garden. It was at the back of the palace complex and removed from all the action, so quiet and still. She had to bite painfully on her lip to keep herself from crying out every time she moved.
It was finished. She was finished. Even if by some miracle she got out of the royal palace safely, she couldn’t possibly get to the jambu tree where Neel was waiting.
But at least he wasn’t in immediate danger any more. And Father would be safe too. Even if she was caught, nothing would be traced back to him. Father had no vested interest in releasing Neel.
Even if he lost his job, at least he wouldn’t lose his life.
Dizziness threatened to overcome her. Chaya squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the pain. They would find her. It was over.
No.
Her eyes flew open. She was no quitter. Chaya hauled herself into the walled garden. The green was quiet, with no one in sight. The servants must have left their positions and gone to the front of the complex, drawn by all the chaos.
Chaya stood up and ran. A searing pain shot through her leg all the way up. It was useless. She was in too much pain. This was it; they’d find her here eventually.
And then in the distance, through a blur of pain, Chaya saw her getaway vehicle. She hobbled up and untied the chain from the post. Black spots swam in front of her eyes as she scrambled up and felt the calming, gentle sway take her off to find Neel.
“What took you so long?” said Neel, as she stumbled over to him at the jambu tree.
The pain was slightly better now. She still couldn’t put her weight on her foot but at least she wasn’t dizzy with pain.
“Are you OK?” Neel looked worried. “Why are you limping? You look ill.”
“Just tired,” said Chaya. “And I hurt my foot. It’s not easy, this whole prison-break thing.” She sank down at the foot of the tree. “We need to leave now. The King must be furious.”
“Can you walk?” Neel bent down and stared at her foot. “I’m trying to work out where to go.”
Chaya stood up, holding on to the tree. “I know where we shouldn’t go. The King’s men will search the road out of the village. We need to do something exactly opposite to what they expect. We should go deep into the jungle.”
“Are you mad?” said Neel. “We’re just going to get lost.”
“We have no other choice.” Chaya took a step forward and winced. “It’ll buy us some time till we figure out what to do.”
“You can’t go anywhere by the looks of it,” said Neel. “Chaya, you’ve done enough.
I’ll take it from here.”
“Neel, they saw me. Again. It’s too late for that now.”
Neel rubbed his head. “What a mess. You can’t even walk. How did you get here?”
“I had, er, some help. Anyway, I do have a way we can go into the jungle. Sprained ankle and all. Come with me.”
Chaya led the way, keeping well into the wilderness. She let her foot drag along, careful not to put any weight on it. Neel didn’t say much. He looked worried and tired. After all the excitement of the big rescue it was funny that all they felt now was tired and subdued.
“Why couldn’t you bring the cart with you?” asked Neel.
“It’s not a cart, come on. Just here. Through the trees.”
There was a scuffling behind them and Neel started. He clutched Chaya and began to drag her with him. “Come on, come on.”
Another stab of pain went through her leg as Chaya tried to hurry.
“Hey, what are you two doing?” came a voice from behind. “Wait for me.”
Chaya wheeled around, yelping with pain as the weight fell on her injured ankle.
Nour was lumbering towards them, laden with two small sacks.
“I got supplies,” she said, puffing and panting. She dropped the two bags on the ground near them, one of them falling with a metallic thud.
“Are you out of your mind?” yelled Chaya. “What are you doing here?”
Nour stopped and screwed up her face. “You’re welcome. Some gratitude wouldn’t go amiss, you know.”
“Miss Nour?” Neel looked horrified. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where we were?”
“I followed you, of course. Then quickly nipped back for supplies from home. I guess your friend here,” she turned to Chaya, “hasn’t told you that I helped rescue you, Neelan.”
“Helped? I just asked you to come with me to the temple – and thank you very much for that. But that’s it. Now, go home and get on with your life.”
A bang sounded in the distance, and they could hear galloping coming from the city.
The Girl Who Stole an Elephant Page 5