by Jon Robinson
There it is, he thought, glancing at the torn newspaper article in his hand. That’s where I’ll find him.
It was seven in the morning and still dark when Alyn eventually arrived at the base of the skyscraper. The city was gradually beginning to assemble before his eyes. He looked in the doorway at the electric barriers and at the security guard ambling nearby. Alyn paused, and withdrew.
How am I going to get inside? Alyn thought, looking for some other way. The glass monolith towered over him, icy and solemn, choked by morning fog. He studied the guard, who was shuffling his weight back and forth. The guard waved to a cleaner who was marching up the steps and glanced at his reflection, turning his face to the side.
Alyn crept quietly towards the barriers, willing that the guard’s narcissism would be enough to keep him occupied for a few more moments.
Giving him a final look, Alyn ran at the barriers, threw his legs as high as he could, and hit the ground. He rolled on his side and the momentum carried him to his feet. He looked over his shoulder and turned up the collar of his leather jacket.
‘JF Industries,’ he murmured to himself, pressing the button for the lift. That’s Felix’s company.
Before long, the lift arrived and Alyn selected the twenty-third floor.
When the doors opened, Alyn checked both ways and hurried round the corridor before eventually finding an office labelled:
CHIEF EXECUTIVE
This must be his office. Alyn tried the door but it was locked.
He continued down the passageway before coming across the boardroom. Some voices from further along the corridor filled him with alarm. Alyn tried the lock, expecting resistance, but it gave. He hurried inside and darted behind the door. The balmy office warmth began to thaw his face, and his nose started to stream.
‘Thank you,’ came a voice from outside the door, as a shadowy shape stepped into view. ‘I’ll be seeing you soon.’
Alyn lowered himself and crawled over to a cabinet. He clambered behind it and watched as the door opened and a white-haired man wearing a suit and gold-rimmed glasses entered.
It’s Felix, Alyn realized, and his heart began to quicken.
Humming serenely to himself, Felix walked over to the table and straightened a wad of papers.
Alyn looked through the frosted-glass walls and waited until a couple of shapes passed. Then he stood up.
Felix jumped and released the papers on to the floor. ‘Who are you? How did you get in here?’ he said, jabbing the light switch and pausing as the identity of the boy became clear. ‘Alyn.’
‘So you do remember me,’ Alyn said, staring at him. ‘You were there, that night. The night I was taken.’
Before Felix had the chance to speak, the door opened and in stepped a security guard. He looked at Felix, then Alyn. ‘Sir, we saw an intruder on the camera – are you OK?’
Felix turned to Alyn with a smile. ‘Apparently we know each other. Is that right, young man?’
‘Yeah. We’ve met.’
The security guard marched towards Alyn.
‘Wait,’ Felix ordered, raising his hand. ‘Let him finish.’
‘It was that night, the night my dad took me to the pub. He was playing cards. We had an argument and I left, remember? It was you who found me later that night. And then you shot me … with the ibis –’ Alyn stopped, realizing Felix was smiling.
‘I don’t know who you are, but you have quite an imagination.’
‘You’re a liar!’ Alyn yelled and turned to the guard. ‘He’s a liar, I swear it – he’s evil … he’s evil!’
The security guard grabbed Alyn and pulled him away from Felix.
‘Let go of me!’ Alyn snapped, harassed. ‘Get your hands off me!’
‘Take it easy on him, won’t you?’ said Felix. ‘The boy is obviously disturbed.’
Felix looked at Alyn a final time, adjusted his tie and walked out.
Alyn, struggling with the guard, managed to shout ‘Liar!’ a final time, before being dragged out of the boardroom and into the lift.
After being thrown out of Pillar, Alyn sat on a bench a short way from the skyscraper, with his head planted despondently in his hands.
It was him, Alyn confirmed, as if to reassure himself that he wasn’t going mad. It was him. And now his only chance of finding an explanation was gone. Hungry and weak, he felt inside his pocket for the coins Anton had given him.
He gathered up the remaining coins and walked across the square to a small coffee shop. The thick, syrupy scent of freshly roasted coffee and toasted bread coiled towards him, luring him closer. Face pressed against the chilled glass, Alyn watched the eager queue inch slowly along. An array of sandwiches and cakes and rolls was displayed temptingly behind a glass counter.
He was about to head inside when he noticed something in the reflection. A telephone box, fifty metres or so away.
‘Dad,’ Alyn said quickly, as soon as the call was answered. ‘Dad, it’s me … It’s Alyn.’
There was a moment’s pause. ‘Who?’
‘Me,’ Alyn said. ‘You know, your son. Can you hear me?’
‘Yeah, I hear you,’ his father slurred. ‘We were wondering when you’d turn up.’
‘When I’d turn up? What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t do this on purpose.’
‘So why are you calling?’ his father mumbled. ‘You obviously want something. Money? Is that it? Money? Always money with you kids –’
‘Dad, I didn’t run away … I was taken … kidnapped.’
‘You were kidnapped,’ his father said. ‘By who? Where have you been?’
‘In a prison! There were loads of us. We didn’t know why we were there … they wouldn’t say. I mean, they said we were all criminals but we knew we hadn’t done anything. And there’s this man, Felix … a billionaire … he’s involved –’
‘A prison. You were taken to a prison,’ his father repeated, stumbling over his words. ‘You on drugs, Alyn? I knew it! I knew there was always something funny about you –’
‘Dad, you’re not listening. I didn’t do anything! None of us did. We were kidnapped!’ Alyn looked at the display. ‘I don’t have long left. I’m in London. You need to help me. Please, Dad. I need your help.’
‘It’s not the first time you’ve run away, is it, Alyn?’ his father said. His alcohol-sodden voice turned sharp. ‘Your … your foster parents told me all about you.’
‘No, that was different, I –’
‘I mean, I didn’t even want to be back in your life, for Christ’s sake,’ his father snarled. ‘It was them who got in touch with me. Them who begged me to try to speak to you.’
‘Dad –’
‘Why do you think we even gave you up in the first place?’
The telephone went dead.
Alyn felt numb, and trembling he returned the phone to the hook and bit hard into his lip until he felt blood, which he sucked away with his tongue. He turned to the door and pushed it open, but stopped when he saw a paper note stuck to the glass.
COME BACK TONIGHT.
ALONE.
JF
23
After a long night alone, huddled and shivering in a shop doorway, Julian was beginning to question his sense in dismissing Harlan’s company so soon. As much as he hated to admit it, he found himself filled with admiration for what he and Elsa had endured since the group’s arrival in the city two days ago.
Julian trudged to the newsagent’s at the end of the road, past a grubby-looking laundrette and a bookmaker’s, and bought himself a sandwich and a bottle of water with the handful of change he had left. He was disposing of the sandwich wrapper when he noticed a charity shop was just opening up on the other side of the road.
He pinched the damp grey uniform beneath his coat with his forefinger and thumb and gazed at the display in the window.
‘I’ll give you fifty pence for it,’ Julian said with a sigh to the bemused-looking lady behind the counter. ‘Final offer.’
She snatched the green jumper, glaring at him. ‘You have some nerve, trying to haggle in a charity shop …’
‘You drive a hard bargain.’ Julian sighed as his fingers located the last couple of coins. ‘Sixty pence then.’
‘Five pounds. All money goes to helping disadvantaged children.’
‘I am a disadvantaged child … so why don’t I just take this,’ he said, pulling the jumper back out of her hands, ‘and save you the bother of a transaction …’
The woman grabbed the jumper and tugged, not expecting Julian to maintain his grip. The fabric tore, leaving a frayed wool sleeve dangling in her hand.
‘Well, how about that?’ Julian pondered, unabashed. ‘I’m glad I didn’t spend five pounds on it …’
‘Out!’ the woman hissed, pointing at the door. ‘And don’t bother coming back.’
‘We can’t go it alone,’ Julian declared, after finding Harlan sitting in a backstreet near the station a little while later. ‘We need to stick together. That money was an easy steal. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even take it – I found it on the seat! I’m not cut out for this any more than you are, Harlan.’
Harlan shrugged, sipping his cup of coffee. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Nothing – I want you to listen to my offer. The two of us work together. Now that little brat’s gone, it’ll be much easier. Three’s a crowd, as they say. No dead weight.’
‘Whatever happened to fending for yourself? If I remember, that was your motto until Elsa took your money.’
‘OK, so maybe it’s not as easy as I thought,’ Julian admitted begrudgingly. ‘But as a matter of fact, Harlan, I’ve always thought you were the most sensible out of the bunch – which isn’t saying much, I know, but still …’
Harlan watched him suspiciously.
‘You and me try to solve this whole thing,’ Julian said, ‘together. Now.’
Harlan said nothing, enjoying the desperation in Julian’s face.
‘Goodbye, Julian,’ he said, getting to his feet and walking away.
Julian removed the ibis from inside his coat and stormed after him. ‘I’m the only one with a chance of surviving this thing and you turn me down?’
‘You’d sell me out the second it benefits you.’ Harlan sighed, not looking back at him. ‘Been there, done that.’
Blind with rage, Julian aimed the weapon at Harlan and squeezed the trigger. The blast whizzed by, missing Harlan by centimetres. Harlan turned round and, seeing Julian with his weapon raised, he reached for his own.
Julian fired another blast. Harlan darted on to the next road. He sprinted round some parked cars and ducked behind a white van.
‘You’ve got no idea!’ Julian yelled. ‘If it weren’t for me, you’d all still be back there, rotting in that prison!’
As he approached the van, Harlan sneaked out from behind. He pointed the ibis at Julian’s hand and fired. Julian cried out and his arm went instantly limp, flinging his ibis some way along the pavement.
The ibis cracked open and separated into two parts.
Julian exhaled. ‘You’ve broken it!’ he said, rushing over and reaching down with his other arm to gather the pieces.
‘You were firing at me, idiot!’ Harlan panted. ‘What did you expect me to do?’
Julian was frantically trying to piece the weapon together.
Harlan knelt down and pulled the pieces towards him. ‘It’s not broken – see? It just slots back together.’
Wheezing, Julian shot him a thankful look.
‘You know, I could finish you off right now, Julian,’ Harlan threatened. ‘You’re lucky there was no one around, or we’d probably be seeing the inside of a cell for real.’
‘You know my promises are meaningless,’ said Julian. ‘But next time I’ll think before I shoot. Happy now?’
Harlan muttered something under his breath. He positioned the sections of the ibis together and was about to snap them back into place when he noticed something.
‘Look here,’ he said, running his finger across the innermost compartment and finding some raised lettering in the plastic. ‘A name.’
‘The manufacturer,’ Julian replied. ‘In that case, we might be able to trace it.’ He snatched the ibis from Harlan and tilted it towards the sky. ‘It looks like it says SIGIL …’
Harlan took the ibis back and examined the writing.
‘This could be a good lead,’ Julian said. ‘If SIGIL are supplying weapons to a conspiracy, that must mean they’re involved. Now we just need to do some digging on them –’
‘We? After everything I’ve said, Julian, you still think I want anything to do with you?’
Julian stared at him blankly.
‘There’s something I’ve been waiting for from you,’ Harlan said. ‘And, before I consider agreeing, I’m going to need it.’
Julian remained blank. ‘You know I don’t have any money left …’
Harlan shook his head.
‘And you’re not taking my ibis,’ Julian said, pulling it to his chest defensively.
‘I don’t want your ibis; I have my own. I want an apology.’
‘Oh.’ Julian considered this for a moment. ‘Then I’m sorry, I suppose. Now can we get on with finding them?’
24
Elsa left the train and sprinted as quickly as she could along the platform.
The journey felt like it had taken forever: a lot of sneaking, hopping ticket barriers and hiding. She’d got lost a few times trying to navigate an array of trains, and at one point she thought she’d almost ended up on her way back to Scotland and had to spend the night at a station because she’d missed the last train. Biting back tears of frustration, she was helped the following morning by a concerned elderly man who thought she might be lost and offered to take her to the nearest police station. Still suspicious of any authority, Elsa politely declined and left.
Eventually, she found her train. Too excited to sleep, her eyes followed the sliding landscape, eager to see some – any – indication that she was moving closer to home.
Despite what Harlan probably thought, she hadn’t planned to make such a sudden exit. Perhaps, if they’d found the others, she might have stayed. But with just the two of them, barely enough money to last more than a few more days, and the increasing suspicion that they were being stalked, Elsa felt she had little choice.
Her only regret was not having the chance to say goodbye – a proper goodbye.
Once out of the station, she ran, wind tearing at her, the pavement bouncing, dancing madly. She sprinted across the road, not even waiting for the traffic lights, through the park, across the grass, ignoring the barking dogs.
Elsa leant down, coughing, her chest and lungs on fire. Up ahead, at the end of the road, she could see her house.
I made it! I really made it. And no sign of any kidnappers anywhere.
Satisfied that she had proven Harlan and the others wrong, Elsa rose up straight and started to jog on, imagining how her mother and father and brother, Simon, might react, and what she might say to them. Chances were they would think she had gone mad, but she was sure she could convince them. Eventually, anyway.
She paused at the traffic lights, giddy with excitement, when a car screeched to a halt in front of her.
‘Hey!’ Elsa cried, hopping back. ‘You almost ran me over!’
Before she could take another step a hand reached out of the door, took her arm and pulled her in.
25
Jes was sitting cross-legged on the floor while Henry searched a bag in the corner of the room. He eventually removed a candle.
‘Maybe we should wait for Ryan,’ said Henry.
‘I wouldn’t waste your time,’ Jes answered. ‘He doesn’t believe it.’
‘He will.’ With this, Henry lifted the candle up and sparked his lighter, waiting for the flame to take. ‘What about you?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ Jes said, watching the swaying flame. ‘But I want to
believe it. Who wouldn’t?’
Henry set the candle down in front of her. Ryan crept up to the door and crooked his neck to watch. Jes took a deep breath and sat in silence for a few minutes. She opened her eyes.
‘Nothing’s happening,’ she said, sighing. ‘I can’t put out the flame.’
‘If you’re having trouble keeping your concentration, you can use a locus.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It could be anything – an object, or even a word, a sound … a picture. It’s usually best if you choose something meaningful.’
Jes closed her eyes again, and began repeating a word under her breath. Ryan leant in a little closer, hoping it might be his name she was repeating. Unfortunately it sounded like Alyn.
‘I need to make a phone call,’ Henry said, and moved towards the door. ‘Keep practising.’
Ryan pulled away and ducked round the corner, hiding in a shadowy corridor. He could see Henry walk to the end of the tunnel and stand beside the ladder. Ryan watched as he removed his phone from his pocket. ‘Charlie,’ Henry said, lowering his voice. ‘Are you on your way?’
Ryan leant forward, straining his ears.
‘They’re to be taken back to the headquarters in the city,’ Henry continued. ‘Ryan is showing some promise, but Jes’s Ability is very weak. They’ve both got a long way to go. They’re not going to like it, but do not let them leave. No matter what they tell you.’
Do not let them leave? Ryan dashed back into the room where Jes was practising.
She gasped. ‘Ryan! You made me jump.’
‘Hey,’ Ryan whispered. ‘I just heard Henry talking outside. This Guild’s not what we think.’
‘What?’
‘They don’t trust us by ourselves. They’re gonna take us to their headquarters and keep us there.’
‘They think we’ll end up getting ourselves caught?’ Jes said, as though confirming what he had heard.