History Keepers: Nightship to China

by Dibben, Damian

  ‘It seems there’s no one at home,’ Nathan said as they approached the gated portico of the third house along, a grand red-brick building with two gabled towers facing the river at either end. The mullioned windows were large – particularly on the first floor – making the darkness inside all the more intriguing.

  ‘Look,’ said Topaz, ‘a coat of arms.’ Above them, half hidden amongst the ivy, was a stone emblem, recently carved: two dragons on either side of a shield. The latter was divided into four squares with a symbol in each: a ship, a trident, an eye – and an octopus. Jake’s stomach clenched at the sight of Xi Xiang’s symbol.

  ‘Shall we . . .?’ said Nathan, pulling himself up the wall onto the roof of the portico and jumping down the other side.

  Topaz shook her head. ‘I distinctly remember the commander putting me in charge,’ she said, leaping after him. ‘Jake? Are you coming?’ she asked through the bars.

  Jake was lost in thought, staring at the house, wondering what secrets it might contain, and whether he might find any clues about Philip. He came back to the present and quickly followed them over the wall.

  They crept towards one of the ground-floor windows and squinted inside. They needed no further proof that the house was deserted: all the furniture was covered with dust sheets. It looked like a gathering of ghosts. They slipped round into an overgrown garden that led down to the river.

  As Nathan examined the front door – a mammoth slab of oak – Jake followed a path towards the water, his feet crunching on the gravel. He soon came to a gate that led down to a little jetty, and heard a splashing close by; he realized that a rowing boat was heading towards him. It contained a single occupant: a girl, with her back to Jake. He beckoned to the others.

  ‘There’s someone coming,’ he whispered. The three of them ducked down behind a hedge. They heard the boat thump against the jetty, and a moment later the girl came into view. She followed the path, a wooden bucket in her hand, unlocked the front door and disappeared into the house.

  ‘Some kind of housekeeper, by the look of things,’ Nathan suggested. ‘Let’s see what she knows.’ He drew his sword, signalled to the others and tiptoed back towards the mansion.

  Topaz looked at Jake, exasperated. ‘Qu’est-ce qu’il a? What is it that he can’t understand about the fact that I’m in charge?’

  They hurried after him, and saw that flickering light now illuminated the hall windows; again, they peered inside.

  ‘What in God’s name . . .!’ Nathan exclaimed. The girl was standing on top of a set of steps; they could see her frightened face as she tipped the contents of her bucket – a mélange of shrimps and snapping crabs – through a funnel into a large fish tank containing a live octopus. The creature peeled its tentacles off the glass and started devouring its meal, drilling through a crab shell and sucking out the flesh.

  ‘I hate those things,’ Topaz muttered, shuddering.

  ‘I think it looks rather sweet,’ Nathan said with a shrug. ‘Apparently they’re fantastically intelligent. My aunt had one who used to play chess with her.’

  Topaz ignored him and strode into the house, sword drawn. The girl saw her, lost her balance and toppled to the floor in fright, scattering the contents of her bucket.

  ‘We’re not going to hurt you,’ Topaz reassured her, advancing with her sword up, ‘providing you help us with what we need.’ At this moment, the octopus smacked a tentacle against the glass, eyeing Topaz as if she might be its next meal.

  ‘O-of course,’ the girl stammered. ‘I’ll help you. Have I done something wrong?’

  Topaz turned to Nathan and Jake. ‘Would you sort out the seafood?’ she said, gesticulating towards the wriggling things on the floor. The boys duly obeyed, gingerly picking up the crabs and prawns and replacing them in the bucket.

  Topaz began her cross-examination: ‘Is there anyone else in the house?’ The girl shook her head. ‘You’re absolutely certain?’ A vehement nod. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘I am Bess, miss.’

  ‘And do you work here, Bess?’

  ‘I come sometimes to feed the . . .’ She motioned towards the octopus. From the look on her face, she hated the creature as much as Topaz did.

  ‘Sometimes?’

  ‘If the master is here, I do not come. Otherwise I am sent word and I come in the evening. I received word today.’

  ‘And your last visit?’

  ‘A week ago?’

  ‘So we’re to assume your master has been here in that time?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘I do not know. I have met him only once.’

  ‘And have you any idea when he will be back? We noticed that the furniture has been covered, so perhaps it will be longer this time?’

  ‘Perhaps, yes.’

  ‘Topaz, behind you,’ Nathan called over breezily.

  She turned to find two of the octopus’s arms swinging towards her, having slipped up the funnel. She caught her breath as one suddenly brushed against her face. She swiped it away, only just resisting the temptation to slice it in two with her sword. ‘Will you please put it back?’ she said, quickly wiping the sticky residue off her cheek. ‘The only thing I hate more is eels.’

  Nathan came to her aid, chuckling.

  ‘I don’t laugh at your ridiculous superstitions about ghosts,’ she snapped. ‘Why should my dislike of octopuses be funny?’

  ‘Because ghosts are real. Octopuses are just . . . fish with ambition.’

  Jake was examining a large portrait at the foot of the main staircase. ‘Is this your master, Bess?’ he asked.

  ‘I believe so,’ she replied, trembling with fear.

  The three agents stared at the painting.

  ‘No doubt about it,’ Topaz muttered grimly. ‘It’s him . . .’

  9 THE LAZULI SERPENT

  THE PORTRAIT SHOWED two figures – one in the foreground, the other standing in his shadow behind. It was exquisitely painted, as fine as any old master Jake had seen on trips to the National Gallery.

  ‘That’s Xi Xiang?’ he asked, pointing at the principal subject. His friends nodded in unison.

  ‘The commander was right,’ Nathan whispered. ‘This is where he’s been hiding – for some of the time, at any rate.’

  Jake inspected the painting. He knew little about Xi Xiang physically – other than the astounding fact that he had three eyes! The portrait confirmed it. His right eye was normal, his left was slightly squeezed up into his brow, while below it, his third eye, blank and deformed like a rotten mussel, peered out of his cheek. Despite the disfigurement, or perhaps even because of it, Xi Xiang had an impish, gloating smile on his face.

  His cheeks were rouged like a clown, and he wore a costume of turquoise, gold and crimson, emblazoned with motifs of sea dragons and fish. The long sleeves hung loosely, hiding his hands – though on closer inspection, Jake noticed a knife protruding from one of the cuffs.

  His companion, standing behind, was a slight, stooped old woman whose stern gaze was just as arresting as his. She wore a black gown, and her hands were cupped together as if in prayer, though she was actually clutching an upright sword. Sticking out under her robe – the only flash of colour – was a pair of red slippers.

  ‘Do you know who the woman is?’ Jake asked.

  ‘I’ve never seen a picture of her before,’ Nathan replied, ‘but I can guess. I believe it’s Madame Fang, Xi’s nanny.’

  ‘His what?’

  ‘His only friend in the world,’ Topaz butted in. ‘She’s been his protector since he was born. The story goes that, when Xi was twelve, she helped him drown his own parents at a seaside picnic. Such a charming pair.’

  Jake asked her, ‘Didn’t Xi Xiang work for the History Keepers when he was younger?’

  ‘He did,’ she replied, ‘but no one knew anything of his past. He fooled them all, particularly Jupitus, who always stood by him.’

  ‘So what’s upstairs, Bess?’ Nathan asked. ‘More fish tanks?’

&n
bsp; ‘I – I’m not allowed upstairs,’ she stammered, ‘but I believe they keep a study and living quarters.’

  ‘I know this is a little unsociable of us,’ Nathan said as he led her across the room to an adjoining pantry, ‘but we must detain you for a short while.’ He was about to lock her in when Jake called out.

  ‘Wait!’ He took out the picture of his family, half covering it with his hand to favour Philip, and showed it to Bess. ‘What about him? Have you ever seen him?’ he asked her. She had clearly never come across a photograph before, and was struck dumb. ‘Look closely at him,’ Jake said. She stared, almost as if she had recognized Philip – but then shook her head. ‘Are you sure? Absolutely sure?’

  ‘I am, sir,’ she replied, but Jake suspected she was lying.

  Nathan locked her in the pantry and the three of them walked up the creaking staircase, Topaz leading the way with a candelabra held high in one hand. They crossed the landing, and went through an archway into the main room of the house.

  It was an Elizabethan gallery that ran the entire length of the building, with a series of large windows facing the river. By the entrance hung a lantern in the form of a sea creature. Nathan put a candle to it and it caught light with a soft whoomph. There came the sound of machinery ticking and whistling, and within seconds a whole succession of lights went on one by one.

  ‘Respect where it’s due,’ said Nathan, gazing around. ‘Taste-wise, Xi Xiang is not lacking.’

  The room was decorated in a mixture of styles from east and west. The walls were panelled in dark oak, but the objects and furnishings – lacquer cabinets, golden screens, finely carved chairs – all had a Chinese feel. A vast mural covered the back wall – a seascape of swirling blues: turquoise, cobalt and ultramarine. In the centre of the room, dominating the space, stood a supersized globe. It all reminded Jake of his first glimpse of the London bureau – a place Xi Xiang would have visited in his time as a History Keeper.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Topaz, scanning the globe. Thin red lines streamed across the oceans between the land masses, from South America, up through the Caribbean to America, then across the Atlantic to Europe. From here, they looped back down round Africa to Persia, traversing the Indian Ocean to Asia, before fanning out again across the Pacific to start the journey all over again.

  ‘Trade routes,’ she said, pointing to various spots on the map. ‘Sugar, silver, silk, pepper, tobacco – the whole merry-go-round. Even slaves,’ she added sombrely. Her finger lingered on the South China Sea, which had the greatest concentration of red; a whole network of converging lines. ‘As we just saw, no exports are more popular than from this corner of the world.’

  Jake went to examine the giant mural. Viewed close up, it was unsettling. In the heart of the ocean was a blue, quartz-like crystal, covered with intricate inscriptions. It seemed to radiate some kind of magical power, as the seas raged and exploded all around it. At the edges of the scene there was destruction: ships sinking, sailors crying out, tidal waves engulfing cities.

  ‘What is that thing?’ he asked, pointing at the stone.

  Topaz frowned as she studied it.

  ‘My knowledge of Chinese mythology is rusty at best,’ Nathan commented, ‘but isn’t that the Lazuli Serpent?’

  ‘The what serpent?’ Jake asked.

  ‘The Lazuli Serpent. It’s a tide stone,’ Topaz replied, though Jake was none the wiser. ‘Tide stones have been part of Chinese folklore for thousands of years; they’re mythical crystals that can control the oceans, producing giant sea monsters simply by coming in contact with water. There are large ones and small ones, each with varying degrees of power. The Lazuli Serpent is the most famous, the most dangerous, capable of harnessing the power of all the seas of the world. It is said that Qin Shi Huang, the first true emperor of China—’

  ‘That’s the one who started building the Great Wall,’ Nathan chipped in, ‘and insisted on being buried with an army of stone soldiers to keep him company.’

  ‘– that he possessed it, but even Huang was so frightened of its might that he kept it locked in a jade casket, telling no one of its whereabouts.’

  ‘But it’s a myth,’ Nathan butted in. ‘Let’s not forget that. No one in the history of the world has ever seen this stone. And that story is two thousand years old.’

  As Jake gazed at the mural, his eye caught the glimmer of hinges and a handle, then a faint rectangle lost amongst the swirling colours: it was a door hidden in the wall. He turned the handle, and a panel opened out onto a small landing and a staircase.

  ‘It must go up into one of the towers,’ Jake said, remembering the outside of the building.

  The agents drew their weapons before cautiously climbing the steps. At the top was a thick metal door that was slightly ajar. Nathan gently pushed it open with the tip of his blade, and they stepped into a small room that looked like a monk’s cell: it had a single barred window, a bed of straw and a chamber pot. There was only one other object: a dusty painting in a smashed frame, facing the wall.

  Jake turned it round, and in his shock, took a gulp of breath. ‘Wh-wh-what? How . . .?’ he stammered. It was a portrait – of Xi Xiang . . . and his brother, Philip.

  They were dressed like battle heroes, in gleaming Chinese armour, and Xi’s arm lay around Philip’s shoulders. ‘I – I don’t understand . . .’ Jake’s hands were shaking.

  Nathan and Topaz shared a look of concern. ‘It’s a painting,’ Topaz reassured him. ‘Many things can be captured in a painting – lies can be told.’

  She tried to take it off Jake, but he clung onto it. Carefully he brushed the dust off his brother’s face. Philip was a striking boy, with a square jaw, dimpled chin and the faint shadow of stubble. He was older and stronger than Jake, but they had the same curling dark hair and brown eyes. Those eyes stared right back at Jake. What was the story here? he puzzled, his mind frantic with questions. Was Philip really in league with Xi? Or was he his prisoner?

  He turned to look at the bed. The mattress was imprinted with the shape of its former occupant.

  ‘Is – is this where he slept?’

  ‘It’s all right, Jake . . . it’s all right,’ Topaz whispered, holding onto him.

  He shook himself free. ‘Where is he now? Is he dead? Where is he?’ Jake’s voice echoed around the room. He fell to his knees and thrust his hand into the mattress, as if he might somehow find Philip there. ‘Where is he?’ he cried again, tossing the bedding aside. Nathan and Topaz tried in vain to calm him down. ‘What did they do to him?’ Jake demanded, half demented – then stopped as he saw something glinting amongst the straw: it was a watch, its glass smashed, its strap broken. Jake picked it up as if it were a priceless relic.

  ‘I gave it to him,’ he murmured. ‘There was a stall in Greenwich market that sold old watches. I knew he’d like this one because it had a ship on it. He loved ships – I never fully understood why . . . until I met you lot, of course. He said he would never take it off.’ He turned it over and received another surprise: a message was scratched in tiny letters on the back. He had to squint to make it out . . .

  Tell family I love them. Find Lazuli Serpent – through the Ocean Door, C

  ‘It’s definitely written by him?’ Topaz asked softly. Jake nodded, tracing his finger over the letters. ‘Can I see?’ She examined it carefully. ‘Why did he sign it C? Did he have a nickname?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you’re absolutely sure it’s his?’

  ‘A hundred per cent,’ he said firmly. ‘The Ocean Door . . .? Do either of you know what that is?’

  The other two looked at each other. ‘Never heard of it,’ Nathan confessed.

  Jake slipped the watch into his pocket and stripped the painting from its frame. ‘Bess must know more,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  But when they got back downstairs and unlocked the pantry, Bess was gone. She had pulled a dresser aside and escaped out of a casement window.

  Jake tore across t
he garden to the jetty. ‘The boat’s gone too,’ he said as the others caught up with him.

  BOOM! Suddenly there was an explosion on the other side of the river, and bright light illuminated their faces. A moment later, another blast shot a wave of heat across the water.

  ‘What in God’s name—’ Nathan started to say.

  Further upstream, a ship was on fire, flames engulfing the sails, sparks flickering into the dusky sky. There was pandemonium – the crew diving into the river to escape the inferno as people swarmed along the pier with buckets of water. All at once, in the hold of the stricken craft, another eruption catapulted the remaining crew into the air. Jake’s ears popped and he shook his head to regain his hearing.

  Almost instantly, the ship listed to one side and started to sink, its burning mast cracking in two and smacking down onto the Thames.

  A fourth explosion echoed across the water – from a galleon moored close to London Bridge. Within moments, it too was ablaze. ‘One ship might be accidental,’ Nathan said, ‘but two must be a conspiracy.’

  ‘And those aren’t any old ships,’ Topaz replied. ‘You see the banners at the top of the mainsails? Red and white stripes, with the cross of St George? The emblem of the East India Company.’

  They shut up the house and quickly retraced their steps back to the company’s headquarters. A crowd of people had gathered, pushing their way inside; both English merchants and their foreign counterparts.

  ‘I’m going in to find out what’s going on,’ Nathan said. ‘Topaz, you’d better come with me – they’ll be speaking every language under the sun.’ He turned to Jake. ‘Wait here for a moment, all right?’ Jake nodded. ‘We’re going to find out what happened to Philip, if it’s the last thing we do . . .’ the American added as he shoved his way through.

  Jake stood frozen on the spot as more and more people gathered. The thought of his brother locked in that tower had made him feel sick.