by Mez Blume
Just when I thought things could get no creepier, Phineas swung one leg over the side of the open coffin, then the other. Next thing I knew, he disappeared. I could hear the scraping noise of the lid being closed again from the inside.
As soon as the sound stopped, I sprang from my hiding place and pointed my penlight at the stone knight. He looked undisturbed, but as I swept the light over the coffin’s side, I discovered the big slab of stone had not been sealed back properly. The lid sat slightly ajar, leaving a crack big enough for my fingers to slide into.
It took every ounce of my strength to move that stone, but just when I thought I couldn’t push any harder, it gave. The lid slid away, leaving the tomb gaping open.
Shaking, I held my penlight over the black opening. My mouth dropped open. It was not a tomb at all, but a trap door! I was looking down a flight of rough stone stairs.
I sat on the tomb’s edge and threw my legs over. I allowed myself just one deep breath before descending into the earth’s cold, dark belly.
The stairs dead-ended into a suffocatingly narrow passageway haunted by the sounds of drippy pipes and scurrying rodents. One day, I would thank Charlie for the gift of that penlight. Its faithful little beam was the only thing that kept me going. I fixed my eyes on the spot of light in front of me, thinking only of my next step and refusing to imagine what might be lurking in the darkness all around me.
One step at a time, I coached myself. I could feel the floor slanting gradually upwards. Every few paces, I paused to listen out for Phineas up ahead, but he was too far ahead of me to hear.
One riddle at least was solved: I now knew how Phineas had been getting in and out of the cathedral undetected; but I could not imagine how he could have removed an enormous painting like The Wedding Feast through that passage when I could hardly move through it without bumping up against its wet walls.
The fear that Phineas had turned into some secret side tunnel was beginning to grip me when the passageway ended, opening up into a larger chamber. I must have been within the cathedral walls, but where, I could hardly guess. I paused. Footsteps echoed distantly somewhere above. My eyes rose up and up and up, and it began to dawn on me just how immense a chamber I was in. At a dizzying height, the lantern – along with whoever carried it – was making its way up an open, spiralling ladder.
I dropped my eyes and shuffled across the floor until my toe nudged the base of the ladder. Clicking off my penlight, I gripped the cold, iron rail and started to climb.
What felt like an eternity of steps later, I stepped up onto another platform. I was broken out in a cold sweat, every limb shaking uncontrollably. Knowing one false step would send me plummeting into the dark abyss below, I held out my hands and shuffled forward. My hands touched the frame of a doorway. I slid my fingers down until they locked around a doorknob.
I turned the knob and pushed. It didn’t budge. I leaned into the door with my shoulder and felt a resistance from the other side, as if someone was holding the door closed. I rammed it with the whole side of my body. This time, the door opened and I gasped at the shock of freezing wind and needle-sharp sleet. The wind whipped up my hair and skirt as I tried to step out onto an outer walkway. I turned my face away from the wind and only then realised where I was. I had climbed all the way to the cathedral dome. I was standing just outside its base with only a stone railing between me and the world below.
Shielding my eyes from the sleet, I edged into the wind and peered through the rails. Down below, London looked like a toy city, its streetlamps just pinpricks of light in a sea of sooty blackness.
I stepped back, bracing myself against the side of the dome. The thought of meeting Phineas out there chilled me more than the wind. I had to find him before he found me. But which way would he have gone?
A loud banging sound above sent my heart leaping into my throat. I craned back my head and saw an open door. The wind was flapping it about on its hinges. A narrow staircase wrapped around the outer dome leading up to the door, nearly to the very top. I remembered Imogen telling me about the Golden Gallery… how just looking up at it from the cathedral floor had given me butterflies.
But apart from the earth below, it was the only place Phineas could have gone from where I stood. I could not turn back now.
The wind fought with my skirt as I climbed the stairs, but at least it pressed me against the wall as there was nothing much to hold on to. As I scaled the final steps approaching the door, sudden dread gripped my chest. I did not want to walk through that door, but I couldn’t go back either.
What was I doing here? How I wished to goodness I had a plan… a weapon… just someone there beside me.
I closed my eyes as another gust of wind swelled up with a loud hum.
No. It wasn’t humming… It was singing… It was Ramona’s song, clear as anything! But it couldn’t be the wind. It was coming from inside!
Just like that, all my dread blew away. I rushed inside and found myself in a circular balcony, with only a decorative railing between me and the cathedral floor a world below. There was no one else to be seen, but the song was loud and clear, coming from… There it was! The pocketwatch, lying open on the balcony floor, just a few paces away. The canary’s tiny mouth opening and closing and filling the entire dome with its voice.
I hurried forward and stooped to pick it up. My hand never reached it. My eyes were drawn up by the most hideous sight: Wix climbing down a diagonal rope like a monstrous spider in its web.
One end of the rope was tied to a hook in the gallery wall. The other end ran through a pulley at the dome’s apex, beneath which hung a large rectangular object. I didn’t have to guess what it was.
Wix dropped to the ground, making the balcony quiver beneath my feet. His face was cloaked in shadow, but satisfaction was audible in his rasping voice. “’Ello, girly. Miss me?”
A blade glinted in the dark as Wix bent down, snatched up the pocketwatch, and clamped it shut in his fist, silencing the canary. I walked backwards, feeling frantically for the rail behind me. Wix’s grotesque figure came nearer; I could lean back no further without falling. He loomed over me, pressing his monstrous face with its evil sneer and sickening breath so close, it made me light-headed.
“I’ll give ya a choice.” He toyed with the end of his knife as he spoke. “You can cooperate nice-like while I ties your ‘ands ‘n’ feet… or you can take the long dive down.” He leaned further over me to peer over the rail with a wicked chuckle. “Wonder ‘ow long it’d take ya to ‘it the bottom.”
Trembling, I looked around for an escape. Under Wix’s armpit, I could see the door, now wide open. So close.
As I watched, the tall, lean figure of Phineas Webb stepped through the doorway, then pushed the door closed behind him. I was ambushed.
“Now, now, Mr. Wix. There is no need for such indelicacy. I’m certain our young friend quite understands her situation.” He lifted the lantern to his face, and smiled a smile as cold and unfeeling as a stone statue.
29
Leap of Faith
“Gabriel sent you, did he? I believe that’s what they call a ‘fool’s errand’.” Phineas stepped closer and held out his hand. Wix placed the pocketwatch in his palm. His fingers curled around it. “I never could understand how my brother inspired such loyalty in people.”
I thought I’d better let him believe he was right. If he thought I’d come on Gabriel’s orders, he might suspect I had backup, or at least that I knew what I was doing. “He knows the painting on his barge was a fake,” I said.
His eyes were fixed on the hanging object above. “Ingenious, is it not?”
“You’re not a genius. You’re a thief.”
His lips curled into that cold smile again as he lowered his eyes to mine. “I, Miss Watson, am a modern-day Leonardo. As you’re here, allow me to show you how this little contraption works. Wix–”
Wix exhaled his horrible breath into my face, then straightened up and swaggered over to the
hook in the wall. Untying the rope, he gripped it in his gnarly hands and began releasing the slack.
The pulley up above creaked as The Wedding Feast descended until it hung just over the railing in front of Phineas, suspended over the distant chequered floor.
He lifted his lantern. It illuminated the rich, deep royal reds and glimmering golds of a royal banquet presided over by a kingly figure. “You see, Miss Watson, had a trained eye inspected the painting discovered on my brother’s boat, it would have recognised a slap-dash copy instantly. But I was confident a hard-boiled policeman like Janklow would never recognise the difference.”
“He’s not a policeman,” I said, unable to hide the anger in my voice. “He’s a detective, and a brilliant one.”
Phineas raised his eyebrows. “So loyal to the man who dismissed you with no more than a simple word from me? Admirable, Miss Watson. But foolish. Loyalty to oneself is the only loyalty that counts in this world.”
“Is that what you told Ramona when you locked her up in a tower like one of your caged birds?”
Phineas’s smile fell. For the first time, his features showed real emotion. “How could you know...” His eyes narrowed. “Who are you really?”
It was fear written on his features; it made me bold. I knew something he did not. At last I had the upper hand. “I’m not your brother’s spy.”
The vein beneath Phineas’s eye twitched. He waited for me to say more.
Standing tall and squaring him off, I asserted proudly, “I am Ramona’s descendant. She has a family. A husband and a child, and generations of people after her. You can’t keep her locked away in your fantasy world.”
“How did you come here?”
“The painting you hung up in place of yours. Gabriel didn’t paint it. Ramona did. I bet you never guessed it was a time portal.”
Phineas’s stone façade melted away. A vicious, wild look lit up his eyes; the cold smile became a snarl. “It matters not. Where I am going, there is no husband, no child. They do not exist,” he spat. “There, Ramona has only me–”
“She doesn’t belong to you!” I shouted in his face, forgetting my fear, I was so angry. “You can’t undo the life she’s already lived. Can’t you see that? I’m proof of it.”
Phineas opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. He studied me like he might study a painting, appraising it for its value. I held my breath, hoping beyond hope my words had struck his heart.
At last, he asked, “Do you have the gift? Do you also paint… the past?”
The way he looked at me, hungrily, made me shudder. “No,” I answered.
His face turned frigid again with disappointment. “Then you are of no use to me. And within a few moments, you will be of no threat. When I am gone, you will cease to exist. Ramona will be mine until her dying day. Her descendants will be my descendants. In a matter of time, no one will ever have heard of Katie Watson, nor shall they. But they will hear of Lord Warwick and his Lady Ramona. Our names shall live on through the ages.”
The bell struck its first gong. It was midnight.
Phineas took in a sharp breath. “And now I must bid you adieu. My lady awaits me. Wix, see that this child is silenced when I am gone.”
With a spasm of twisted laughter, Wix grabbed me by my hair and wrenched me towards the balcony railing.
“Not yet, Wix,” Phineas sounded impatient. “Wait until I have gone. Then her death need not weigh upon my conscience.”
“What about him?” I screeched as Wix pushed my head over the railing. “He knows your secret, doesn’t he? What’s to stop him telling?”
Phineas laughed. “Even a chimpanzee will obey a command if he’s offered a big enough piece of fruit.”
Wix stopped trying to lift me by my waist and gave a low growl.
“Besides,” Phineas said after another gong of the bell, “who would believe such a great buffoon? My secret is safe with him.”
Wix’s grip on my hair loosened. I craned my head around to see him scratching his head, trying to decide whether he had just been complimented or insulted.
“Now at last.” Phineas’s full attention turned to the painting. He spoke to it dreamily, lovingly. “My final farewell to this modern world.” His hand went to his pocket; he drew out the canary pocketwatch and held it in his palm.
I took advantage of Wix’s momentary distraction to thrust my elbow into his gut. He hurled over and released my hair. I lunged for the pocketwatch, snatching it out of Phineas’s opened hand before he knew what had happened.
But before I could turn and bolt for the door, Wix hooked me around the waist and squeezed the air out of my lungs. With his other hand, he grabbed my wrist and crushed it in his fist. I thought it would break, but still I clung on to the watch while tears from the pain blurred my eyes.
“We’re wasting time, Wix! I want that watch before the last strike of the clock.”
Wix lifted me off the ground and flung me over the railing. I was dangling in midair. One glance over my shoulder and the world started spinning. I could not see or think or breathe. The only thing keeping me from falling was Wix’s one hand still gripped around my wrist while his other hand prised the watch from my fingers.
Phineas spoke from above; his voice sounded distant. “At least it will be a quick, painless end. Goodbye, Miss Watson.”
The bell tolled again. My freed fingers clung desperately to the railing. I squeezed my eyes shut. Any second, I would hear the canary sing. Phineas would disappear, and I would fall.
But the song did not begin. I heard instead the sound of the door banging open, a shuffling of feet, and someone shouting, “Stand back or I’ll shoot!”
My eyes flew open. It was Janklow’s voice! I couldn’t believe it. He had come to my rescue! But one move from Wix, and I would be beyond rescuing.
Wix, still clasping my wrist, turned his ugly face towards the commotion behind him just in time to meet with a flying fist. My hand slipped from his, but it was caught! I looked up and was looking into Gabriel Webb’s face.
“Hang on,” Gabriel said, hoisting me up with all his might. Dobbs and Imogen appeared at his side, clinging to any part of me they could reach. In a second, I was over the rail and lying in a heap in Imogen’s arms. Gabriel and Dobbs were back on Wix, pinning him face down to the ground.
Imogen braced my arm as I pushed myself up to my feet. My legs wobbled like jelly beneath me, but I wanted to see the look of defeat on Phineas Webb’s face.
His expression was stoney again. He looked absolutely calm, even while Janklow’s pistol remained trained on him.
“You’ll be coming with me, Mr. Webb.”
“That’s Sir Phineas, if you please,” he sighed. “Inspector, it is clear that, despite my warning, you have been taken in. Let’s be reasonable–”
“No, Mr. Webb,” Janklow interrupted, and I saw Phineas flinch. “I don’t pretend to understand all that is going on here. But I can tell you this. For once, Reason has failed me. Thankfully, the bravery of these young people led me to the light.” Without moving his gun, he turned his head and smiled at me. “Good work, Miss Watson. It seems I have a lot to learn from you.”
I couldn’t yet speak, but I smiled back.
The moment was broken by the sound of shattering glass as Phineas smashed his lantern against the railing. “I am sorry to have to take drastic measures.” To my horror, he held the open flame beneath the canvas of The Wedding Feast. It began to smoke; then, all at once, it burst into flame.
“Stop! In the name of the law!” Janklow shouted.
But there was nothing anyone could do. It happened in the blink of an eye. Phineas climbed over the railing and leaned out towards the burning canvas. With one hand he clicked open the pocketwatch. The canary had sung only a few notes when the painting began to move; the king raised a goblet to his lips, unaware that his banquet hall was in flames.
Dobbs shouted, “Law, it’s alive!”
Janklow rushed forward.
>
At the same time, the canary struck a clear, high note. Time seemed to stop for an instant. Then, Phineas stepped out into thin air and…
In a billow of smoke and ash, he was gone.
The painting sagged, as if pulled down by a weight.
“It’s going to fall!” I shouted, swinging my leg over the railing. “We’ve got to go now.” Imogen followed my lead. We sat on the rail, holding one another around the waist. “Don’t look down,” I said.
“Don’t do it, Miss Humphreys!” Inspector Janklow called out. “Miss Watson, stay where you are!”
Dobbs was trying to get up, but stumbled over Wix. Gabriel was tying Wix’s hands in a flurry.
“We have to!” I called over my shoulder. “Dobbs, Samson is in Bloomsbury Square Gardens. I promised him an apple!”
“Wot? Miss Katie, wot’cha on about? You don’t mean to–”
I hated turning my back on them all, but even a moment’s hesitation, and it would be too late.
“Are you sure about this, Katie?” Imogen said, her voice high and small.
I couldn’t answer, couldn’t move. But then the painted queen’s eyes met mine. She was wreathed in flame, but she nodded calmly as if to reassure me that all would be okay.
“I’m sure,” I answered. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Wait!” Gabriel was limping towards us, his hand stretched out to pull us back.
“Now!” I shouted.
We leapt, but we never fell. A mighty gust of wind caught us up and spun us in a vortex of flame and flashing colour. Imogen’s arm stayed clasped around my waist, and I was just aware of another hand holding fast to my foot. We were not alone.
Epilogue