Then the man spoke in English, his thin lips trembling as he formed the words: ‘One of you will die.’
Jake caught his breath in shock. Yoyo shooed the man away, and they continued up to the top of the hill, where they found a square timber building. In the dying light, they saw a placard bearing a red symbol.
Luckily the doctor was an amiable man. He was just packing up for the day, but when he saw the state Nathan was in, he told them to lay him on the timber bed in the centre of the dim room.
Putting on his spectacles, he lit a lantern and brought it over to the patient. He checked Nathan’s pulse in various places, feeling the glands under his jaw and examining his tongue. As he did so, Yoyo spoke to him in Chinese, telling him about the squid venom.
At length, the doctor took a deep breath and selected a couple of jars from among the hundreds that lined the wall, mixed together a quantity of powder from each, added some water and stirred it together. He asked the others to hold Nathan’s head up as he carefully poured the concoction into his mouth, then checked his temperature. He spoke to Yoyo, and she translated.
‘He says Nathan has reacted badly to the venom, that it has paralysed his insides, making it hard for him to breathe.’
Topaz reached for Nathan’s hand and squeezed it tight. ‘Will he be all right? Can the doctor do anything?’
‘He says that if we had come even an hour later, it might have been too late, but he will try and stabilize him.’
Jake couldn’t stop thinking about the fortuneteller’s prophecy. One of you will die . . . He wished they’d got help sooner. Finally the doctor suggested they leave him to work in peace; he lit more lamps and set out bottles on the workbench.
‘Topaz,’ Yoyo said softly, ‘let me stay with him. You two need to get to the island. Time is running out.’
Topaz was about to protest, but she knew that Yoyo was right. Someone had to remain, and as she knew the language, she was better able to look after Nathan.
‘I promise to take good care of him,’ Yoyo said, squeezing Topaz’s hand. The other girl nodded and blinked away a tear. Suddenly, amazingly, Topaz hugged her old adversary.
‘We’ll leave the Thunder where she is,’ Topaz told her. ‘She’ll be noticed on the island. We’ll use the rowing boat, with Dr Chatterju’s outboard motor. And before we leave, we’ll send a Meslith to the commander.’ She kissed Nathan on his forehead, whispered something in his ear and left the room.
Jake looked at his friend with a lump in his throat. ‘Good luck, old boy,’ he said, mimicking Nathan’s Charleston drawl. He took out the makeshift map from the Lazuli Serpent and gave it to Yoyo. ‘If we don’t come back, you know where to find us,’ he said with an uncertain smile.
Suddenly Yoyo threw her arms around him. ‘I’ll miss you so much,’ she declared passionately.
Jake was taken aback. ‘W-w-well, please be careful,’ he stammered, peeling himself away before hurrying after Topaz.
Yoyo went to the door and watched them leave. She suddenly felt as if she might be sick.
Jake and Topaz ran back to the Thunder. Topaz quickly typed out the Meslith to Commander Goethe as Jake untied the rowing boat and lowered it into the water, then got out the casket containing Chatterju’s outboard motor.
Topaz locked up the Meslith machine, collected some weapons together – the arrow gun that Chatterju had given them, a regular crossbow, along with swords and daggers – and piled them into a sack. She grabbed some bread, cheese and a bottle of ginger ale for the journey.
‘What about the bazooka?’ Jake asked. ‘Should we take that?’
Topaz attempted to lift it. ‘It weighs more than I do,’ she said, giving up. ‘It would probably sink us!’
She covered it with some blankets, and she and Jake climbed down the ladder into the boat. Taking an oar each, they set off, away from the lights of Zhanjiang. Once they were clear of the harbour, Jake took out the motor, remembering how the rudder, engine and propeller were all connected in one ingenious mechanism, positioned it over the stern and clamped it in place. He yanked the cord to fire it up; it gave a little chug and was silent again. After a few more attempts, it finally engaged. He took hold of the rudder, put it in gear and they took off across the dark sea.
Night was not far off.
20 THE STAIRCASE UNDER THE SEA
THEY FOLLOWED THE map, using the stars to navigate their way due south, the tropical breeze rustling their hair. The faint line of white behind them marked their course across the smooth sea. It was warm and still, and the moon soon rose over the horizon, turning the ocean ultramarine; as rich as lazuli itself. Jake glanced at Topaz. She was quiet, her eyes steely, concentrating on the sea ahead. The words they’d had in the golden pagoda had still not been discussed. But for Jake, it didn’t matter; he was happy to be alone with her.
He felt a stirring in his heart. Suddenly he thought of his life in London before meeting the History Keepers: the drudgery of school; the grey winters and aimless summers. He wondered what he would be doing now (whenever now was) . . . Poring over algebra or writing an essay on urban sprawl?
Instead, here he was in Ming dynasty China, voyaging across a tropical sea, an incredible girl at his side: two adventurers from different eras of history on a mission together – a crucial assignment to protect the fabric of the past. Certainly there was danger to come, but excitement too.
‘Jake,’ Topaz said softly, ‘there is something I need to tell you.’ He braced himself, certain that she was going to talk about their argument. But: ‘It’s about Philip – his whereabouts.’
Jake’s stomach flipped. ‘What about him?’
‘Well over a year ago, the commander received a Meslith from an unknown sender. She suspected it was from Philip.’
Jake scrutinized Topaz’s indigo eyes. ‘What did it say?’
‘There were no words. It consisted of just four numbers. The commander believed they were longitude co-ordinates. As you know, when someone is describing a precise place in history, they write numbers of longitude, latitude and date – in that order. The Meslith may have been a call for help.’
Silence; just the whine of the outboard motor. Jake felt a stab of betrayal. ‘And no one thought to tell me?’
‘There was no proof; and no one wanted to give you false hope.’
‘But the co-ordinates . . . they were incomplete? That’s what you’re trying to say?’
Topaz held up the map of the South China Sea. ‘You see the longitude of the island we are travelling to . . . it’s exactly the same.’
‘So Philip might be there?’ Jake said.
‘C’est possible.’ She reached out to touch his hand. ‘Though of course, you have to prepare yourself for . . . the possibility that—’ She didn’t need to finish the sentence.
‘Could I have a drink, please?’
Topaz opened the flask of ginger ale and passed it to him. He drank and gave it back. Then they shared out the food and ate in silence.
Gradually they drew near to a group of islands. Topaz examined them, comparing them to the marks on the map. ‘We’re getting close,’ she said, standing to get a proper look. ‘It’s the furthest one.’
Finally Jake cut the engine and they took up their oars once more. He had never seen the sea so calm.
‘There,’ he said, turning to catch a glimpse of their destination for the first time. ‘Xi’s island . . .’
They both stopped rowing. The island reared up out of the sea, sharp and pointed, the peak slightly crooked, like a witch’s hat. With the moon behind it, it looked as dark as charcoal. Beyond was nothing but endless sea.
‘It’s like Point Zero,’ Topaz said. ‘Or rather, like its evil cousin.’ It looked eerie and uninviting.
They continued rowing and then stopped again a couple of hundred yards from the island. ‘Let’s leave the boat there,’ Topaz said, pointing to a stack of rocks that jutted out of the sea. ‘We’ll have to swim the rest – if we don’t want t
o be seen. Agreed?’
Jake nodded, and managed to secure the rope around a finger of stone. They took off their shoes and packed them, along with their weapons, into a sack, which Jake slung over his shoulder; then they lowered themselves into the water. It was as warm as a bath.
They swam towards the island. There was no sign of life – no hint of green; just facets of rock twisting up to the lopsided peak. Jake wondered if he had somehow misunderstood the map on the Lazuli Serpent, but he didn’t say anything.
Suddenly the sea, hitherto so calm, grew choppy. Jake choked on a mouthful of salty water.
‘Something’s coming,’ Topaz said, feeling the vibration in the water. They both turned, but the horizon behind them was clear. Still the waves built up, crashing against the rocky shore ahead.
Then they saw it: a shape rising out of the sea – a length of glistening grey metal.
Jake recognized it immediately. ‘It’s Xi’s submarine,’ he shouted to Topaz, who was a little way ahead. He had last seen it disappearing below the Thames by London Bridge. It surfaced, heading towards them on a direct collision course. ‘Swim!’ he shouted.
They tried to get out of its path, but suddenly, from the island, they heard a deep rasp of metal: a secret entrance appeared in the sheer wall of mountain in front of them; a pair of stone doors creaked open to reveal a mammoth cavity. A soft light from within illuminated the curved hull of the submarine. Jake swam furiously, but it struck him a glancing blow as it swept past, and he sank beneath the water.
Dizzy and spluttering, he swam back to the surface. Topaz was calling, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Then he realized that she was pointing to the great doors – they were closing. Jake quickly swam through the opening after her. The metal hinges – hidden behind the façade of rock – groaned and creaked as the doors edged together. Jake swam faster, and felt them brush against him, about to cut him in two; but Topaz yanked him through just before they snapped shut.
They both took a gulp of air and slipped underwater. Using the harbour walls to guide them, they felt their way along, then surfaced for a quick peek. They were in a dimly lit cavern that rose to a sharp point high above their heads.
Further along, Xi’s submarine was drawing towards a gantry. They saw that its shining steel plates were emblazoned with the symbol of the blood-red octopus. With a clang of metal, a large hatch opened and figures emerged – four soldiers, who lined up along the gantry. They stood to attention, swaying, clearly ill, their eyes bloodshot; they looked like Nathan had. One of them could barely stand.
Next came Madame Fang; she looked more energetic than ever in her silver breastplate; her grey hair was pulled up in a tight bun, her face imperious, but she bowed as the last figure emerged.
Although he could not see his face, Jake knew it was Xi. He wore full armour fashioned from linked bronze plates; huge gold epaulettes stood out from his shoulders. A tail of golden hair cascaded down from his pointed bronze helmet, which he removed with his chainmail gloves to inspect the harbour; his two good eyes swept one way, his third lingering another. His rouged face no longer looked impish and playful; his expression was stony. He strode along the gantry, armour rattling, and disappeared through an archway, lit up by the glow they had seen from outside. As Fang followed, one of the soldiers fell to his knees and vomited; she turned and shouted at the others, who pulled him to his feet and hurried after her. The little harbour was deserted once again.
Jake looked back at the double doors through which they had entered; he wondered if they should escape this place now, before it was too late. But he knew that turning back was not an option. If Philip was there somewhere, that was enough reason to go on.
‘All right?’ Topaz asked him.
He nodded. ‘Let’s go.’
They levered themselves out of the water and headed through the archway; here a stairwell led down, deep into the earth. Jake’s ears popped as they descended, gas lamps lighting their way. After two flights, they came to a landing. The walls were decorated with panoramas of epic scenes from Chinese history. There were armies crossing rivers, climbing mountains and cutting down forests. In each, a leader in full imperial dress led his troops.
‘It’s Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor,’ Topaz gasped. ‘Look at the dates.’ She pointed to numerals in the corner of each panel. ‘211 BC. That was a year before he died.’
‘That’s the emperor who had the army of stone soldiers buried with him, isn’t it? The first owner of the Lazuli Serpent?’ Jake asked.
But Topaz had seen something else. ‘Ce – ce n’est pas possible,’ she stammered. She was pointing to the end of the landing, where another, much grander flight of steps dropped in a succession of curving tiers.
‘It goes right under the sea . . .’ Jake said in amazement. It was the grandest staircase he had ever seen; diamond-shaped windows let in a dim, bluish light. He went down a few steps to look through one, and saw, far below, on the sea bed . . . a palace.
It was night-time now, but the huge building was floodlit, and there was a soft glow coming from its many windows. Jake could see the wall of the stone staircase, which spiralled round the base of the mountain. The palace itself was both stately and forbidding; it was built in the oriental tradition, with tiers of curving roofs. Other small buildings were linked by tunnels along the sea floor. There were even marine gardens of giant seaweeds. Most striking of all, the entire building had a blue hue, as if its millions of tiles were made of lapis.
Suddenly Jake realized what it was: ‘The Lazuli Serpent . . .’ he said. ‘This is it. On a huge scale.’
Topaz let out a sigh of wonder.
Since he had first met the History Keepers, Jake had come across a number of secret staircases. On his first encounter in London, he had wound his way down below the Monument. There had been the one concealed under Prince Zeldt’s laboratory in Venice; another below the Forum in ancient Rome. But this, he thought, was the most extraordinary by far.
Halfway down, ahead of them, they saw a soldier in ancient armour; then, as they followed the curve of the staircase, another, and another . . . They stopped and drew their weapons.
‘The guards from before?’ Jake whispered.
Topaz shook her head. ‘I think they’re made of stone.’ She peered round the corner; the figures remained utterly still. Finally she primed her crossbow gun and loosed an arrow. It struck the first soldier with a clang, before clattering to the floor.
She and Jake went to investigate. There were six amazingly lifelike warriors, bearing real weapons. Their poses were realistic too, as if they were chatting to each other, while keeping their eyes on intruders.
The pair edged round them and continued down. The pressure in their ears grew painful as they descended, and they had to swallow repeatedly to clear them.
Finally, at the foot of the stairs, they came to a vaulted hallway lined with doors – all shut but for the huge central portal. This led into a large room. As Jake and Topaz peered in, they saw, not far from the doorway, four dead bodies lying on the floor – the guards from the submarine.
Jake didn’t notice at first – it was gloomy and they were piled on top of each other – but the men had had their heads removed.
21 THE END OF SEAS
THEY FROZE, STARING at the decapitated corpses in horror. Jake looked back up the curving stairwell, and wondered again if they should leave now . . .
Topaz peered round the doorway. ‘More statues – dozens of them.’ Holding her arrow gun in one hand, she unsheathed her sword with the other and stepped inside. Jake armed himself too and followed.
‘What is this place?’ he murmured.
It was a high-ceilinged, circular chamber, full of lifelike stone figures, their glass eyes glinting. One group stood together on a raised tier, as if gossiping, eyes trained on a point in the centre. On the other side of the room, twelve serious-looking men sat at a long table, all gazing ahead.
Between the two groups,
on a dais, sat a man who was more finely dressed than all the rest. He too looked down sternly at the same central point of the chamber. A series of frescoes decorated the walls.
‘It’s a court,’ Topaz said. ‘A law court.’ She pointed to the various groups of people. ‘Spectators, jury, judge. In one of Yoyo’s books it said that in Chinese mythology, when someone dies, they are tried in the hell court. If their sins cannot be forgiven, they are punished.’ She indicated the frescoes on either side of the judge. In one, the dead were being beheaded; in another, they were being forced to climb trees made of knives that sliced into their hands and feet.
Speechless, Jake tiptoed around the space. He looked up into the granite face of the judge, then crept past the spectators. The statues were incredibly lifelike: one old man had his ear cocked as he strained to hear; the young girl next to him had her mouth open in a slight smile; the stout woman behind her looked frightened, and the man next to her had a cruel sneer. Further along, another man had his hands over his face. There was something familiar about his golden epaulettes, Jake thought.
Then the statue lowered its arms and let out a shrieking laugh.
Xi Xiang!
Without pausing to think, Jake raised his crossbow and fired. Xi ducked and the arrow struck the wall. On his hands and knees, Xi raced between the stone figures; Topaz swung round and discharged the remainder of the arrows from her gun, but her missiles merely pinged off the statues.
Unsure what was in store for them, she and Jake turned and ran, but their exit was blocked by a pale, bare-chested giant of a man, armed with bloodstained machetes. As they careered the other way, a net came down from the ceiling; it was pulled tight, sweeping them off their feet so that they cracked their skulls on the marble floor. They were winched up off the ground, caught like wild beasts. With their arms pinned to their sides, they couldn’t raise their weapons to defend themselves.
Xi snatched one of the huge man’s machetes and thrust it through the net, catching Jake under the jaw. Fresh blood dripped from the blade. ‘Take their weapons,’ he ordered.
History Keepers: Nightship to China Page 19