by Jon Robinson
‘Sorry,’ he said to the pair, then turned to Jes. ‘We need somewhere to put them.’
Jes looked around and noticed a velvety maroon drape. She pulled it aside, revealing a cupboard door; inside was a mop, a couple of rolls of kitchen paper and some spare black shirts hanging from a hook. She yanked the shirts off the hook and threw them out.
‘In here!’ she said. Harlan lifted the boy into the cupboard, pushing his arms inside with his foot. They both picked up the girl and positioned her inside, beside the boy. With relief they closed the door behind them and pulled the drape back to conceal it.
‘We should make the most of these uniforms – if anyone asks, we can say we’re the waiting staff,’ he said, pulling off his coat and T-shirt. He looked at Jes, who was standing awkwardly with her coat in her hands. He flashed her an embarrassed smile and looked away. ‘Then we can head down to the stage to find the others.’
Jes quickly removed her jumper and frantically pulled on the black shirt.
At that moment, the door opened and in stepped an overweight man in a tuxedo. Patches of sweat blotted his white shirt. He dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. ‘Some of the guests have already started to arrive,’ he announced. ‘I don’t need to remind you how important they are.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Jes and Harlan agreed in cautious unison.
‘Good grief, whatever is wrong with you?’ the man said. He marched over to Jes and pointed at the buttons of her shirt. ‘You look a wreck, girl! Shirt ill-fitting and untucked … and jeans! You were told to wear black trousers!’
‘Sorry, sir,’ said Jes.
He looked at Harlan. ‘And you’re just as bad. Get yourselves looking presentable at once. And where are your masks?’
Jes looked around and spotted two masks, one black, one white, on the table. ‘Here,’ she said, and passed one to Harlan, placing hers over her face.
‘That’s more like it. Now try to show a little enthusiasm, or I’ll find another pair who can.’ With that, the man pivoted on his polished heel and stomped away.
‘That was close,’ said Harlan with a grin, hiding the ibis. Outside, the sound of several hundred pairs of feet filled the corridor.
58
Downstairs, Pyra and Luthan watched carefully as a deluge of tuxedoed guests arrived in the grand entrance hall, a sauntering swarm of silk and sequins.
‘There’s Stephen,’ she whispered, averting her gaze as he slithered past.
‘And Blythe.’ Luthan gestured with his eyes. Pyra looked over her shoulder as the red-faced, moustached aristocrat stomped into the hall, almost knocking a delicate-looking white-haired woman off her feet.
‘He looks drunk already,’ Pyra said, pulling a face.
‘He probably is. Where the hell is Felix?’
She checked anxiously over Luthan’s shoulder.
A sprightly man with aquiline features hopped on to the staircase and drummed lightly at a wine glass with a spoon until the conversation in the hall fell silent.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m honoured that you could be here tonight to attend this very special performance, which will be commencing shortly. And afterwards, as you know, we will retire to the ballroom for a masquerade party.’ He stopped and clasped his hands by his navel. ‘I want to offer my most gracious thanks to young Stephen Nover for all his kind contributions to this event. A round of applause, I think, is in order.’
The room rippled with applause, as a grinning Stephen bowed.
Pyra folded her arms, refusing to clap.
‘Don’t make it too obvious,’ Luthan whispered, tapping his hands gently.
Their host swept his hand to the side and gestured for the attendees to ascend the staircase. Pyra and Luthan followed the heaving crowd to the VIP room.
‘Champagne?’ Harlan said from behind his white mask. He extended a glass to a blonde lady wearing a fur coat.
‘Ask her if she would “like some champagne”,’ the overweight event organizer spat in Harlan’s ear. ‘My goodness, wherever did they find you?’
Harlan looked over at a flustered Jes, who was trying to dispense as many glasses as she could to a crowd of waiting guests.
The muttering organizer scurried towards her, showing how she should present the drinks.
‘The drinks are on the table,’ she grumbled out of the corner of her mouth. ‘I don’t see why they can’t just reach down and pick them up themselves …’
‘Because you’re being paid to reach down and pick the drinks up for them,’ the man snapped, and then smiled sweetly as a doddery Russian millionaire with glasses almost bigger than his face staggered away with the glass he’d been holding.
‘We need to get out of here and find the others,’ Harlan whispered to Jes. ‘If they’re going to crash the stage and announce it like we planned, we’ll need all of us there or –’
‘We’ll be stopped before we’ve even started,’ Jes finished, looking at the security personnel.
As Harlan looked away, he caught sight of Pyra and Luthan on the far side of the room. ‘Jes,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Look.’
Jes glanced up and it took her a moment or two to recognize Pyra in the black dress.
Talking quietly between themselves, Luthan and Pyra approached the table. ‘Madam … sir,’ Harlan said politely, ‘can I get you a glass of champagne?’
‘I’d rather have a beer,’ Pyra grumbled. ‘I can’t stand this stuff.’
Harlan surreptitiously raised his mask, enough for Pyra to realize who she was talking to.
‘You! We told you to stay at the tower block,’ she snapped. ‘You kids don’t listen to anything.’
‘Maybe if you started including us we would,’ Harlan whispered. ‘And, besides, we’ve got a better opportunity than you.’
‘A better opportunity to do what exactly?’
‘To help you.’ He narrowed his eyes at Stephen, some way across the room. ‘You still want to take down the Pledge, don’t you? Well, so do we, and we have a plan.’
Luthan shook his head. ‘You both need to get out of here, before you mess up everything.’ He gave Harlan and Jes a solemn look, returned his glass to the table and left with Pyra.
‘Maybe we should just tell security,’ Pyra said. ‘They’d kick them out before they get in any trouble.’
‘Or we let them stay,’ Luthan pondered, gazing at the queue forming around the flustered pair. ‘I don’t know what this plan of theirs could be – I’m not sure I want to know – but a distraction might be exactly what we need to help us get our target.’
Pyra narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You’re gonna let them screw up so they get caught. Seems kinda heartless if I’m being honest, Luthan.’
‘Then let’s just hope we don’t need to go there,’ Luthan answered coolly.
Guess this is why Henry chose you to be leader in his absence, Pyra thought, but said nothing.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the host announced amid the chatter a few minutes later. ‘The show will be starting soon. If you would now like to take your seats on the balcony …’
The guests shuffled into a queue and filed out of the room.
‘I’m not going anywhere except to find the others,’ Jes muttered to Harlan. ‘As soon as the show starts we’ll head down to the stage and we’ll find them.’
59
Luthan watched as Stephen stroked the fox mask on his lap.
‘At least we know what Stephen will be wearing later,’ he murmured. ‘If Felix doesn’t arrive, we should switch our focus to Nover.’
Pyra nodded. ‘Agreed.’ They watched as the actors quickly took their places on the stage. ‘I’m bored already,’ she said. ‘Bring on the masquerade so we can get our hostage and get out of here.’
‘Just be quiet and enjoy it,’ Luthan whispered, not taking his eyes off Stephen. ‘Besides, a bit of culture won’t hurt.’
‘Call this culture?’ she snorted. ‘A few of those actors look like they’ve been
dragged in off the street. Hang on a minute …’
‘What’s wrong?’
Pyra sat up straight, picking up the binoculars from the seat in front. ‘Is that … Ryan and Elsa … and Julian? What are they playing at?’
Luthan reached for his own binoculars. He confirmed her suspicion with a sigh and put the binoculars to one side.
‘Ryan can’t act to save his life,’ she whispered. ‘Look at him, he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Elsa’s just bobbing her head around like there’s something wrong with her. She thinks she’s in a school play …’
Luthan muttered despairingly, ‘Never mind their acting skills. They’re drawing too much attention to themselves.’
He climbed out of his seat, encountering a chorus of tuts, while Pyra followed him back into the empty VIP area. Harlan and Jes were sat on the table talking quietly.
‘Back already?’ asked Jes. Her black mask was perched atop her brow.
‘Have you seen who’s on stage?’ Pyra asked, nodding to the window.
Jes and Harlan got up and peered through the glass window. Ryan, it seemed, had given up entirely, sitting humorously on a barrel with his head in his hands while the director gestured frantically at him from the wings. Elsa was scurrying back and forth.
‘I know we said we were going to crash the performance, but I didn’t think it’d be like this,’ Jes said.
‘Hold on,’ Pyra said. ‘What do you mean, you were going to crash the performance?’
‘We were going to tell the crowd what happened to us,’ Harlan explained. ‘We were going to expose the Pledge!’
‘So this was your plan.’ Pyra sighed, shaking her head. Harlan turned to find the event organizer watching him.
The man looked at the ibis held menacingly in Jes’s hands and then at each of the group in turn. ‘What is going on here?’
‘A simple misunderstanding,’ Luthan cut in. ‘I assure you we’re –’
‘You can explain it to security as they escort you out.’ The man hurried nervously to the telephone.
Pyra snatched the ibis from Jes, pointed it and fired before he was able to remove it from the hook.
‘In here,’ Harlan said, pulling aside the velvet drape that concealed the cupboard.
Harlan and Luthan quickly dumped the man inside with the other two unconscious bodies.
‘You two starting a collection or something?’ Pyra quipped.
‘We’d better head back,’ Luthan said, taking the ibis and hiding it inside his tuxedo. ‘We need to keep an eye on the Pledge. Meet us in the ballroom afterwards. Felix isn’t here, so our target will have to be Stephen.’
60
Alyn climbed out of the car and opened the door for Felix. They walked up the marble steps, Felix adjusting his white scarf, and entered through the main doors. A startled attendant immediately rushed over to greet them.
‘Mr Felix, I’m sorry but you’ve missed most of the performance. If I’d have known you were going to be late, I’d have –’
‘Nonsense. I’ve never liked this sort of thing. My assistant and I are here for the party.’
‘Then let me take you to the VIP lounge. I can get you a drink …’
‘No, thank you. I’ve arranged to meet some colleagues in the function room,’ Felix said, with a knowing smile to Alyn, and checked his sparkling watch.
‘Good luck,’ Alyn said. If Stephen was as bad as Felix said, he would need it.
‘Thank you, Alyn,’ Felix said, heading for the stairs. ‘Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long.’
Alyn took a seat on a bench in the foyer and folded his arms. There was no sign of Emmanuel anywhere. Alyn couldn’t help feeling that, for now, that was probably a good thing.
Inside the auditorium a bored Stephen looked down at his watch. He cleared his throat and politely made his way out of the aisle. Blythe waited for a moment then left as well, followed by Antonia a short while later.
Moments later, Stephen, Antonia and Blythe entered the function room on the second floor. They moved to the table in the centre. Felix waited until Blythe and Antonia were seated.
‘Semper ad meliora,’ Felix declared.
‘Semper ad meliora,’ the others repeated, apart from Stephen.
‘I declare this meeting of the Pledge open.’
‘Yes, yes, get on with it,’ Stephen said, yawning. ‘I’ve got a spectacularly stupid show to finish watching. Although it was worth it just for the moronic extras.’
‘I think they were drunk,’ Blythe chortled.
‘You think that about everyone, you daft old fart,’ Stephen sneered. ‘Not everyone’s like you.’
‘Come now,’ Felix said. ‘We’re not here to insult each other.’
‘Then maybe you should tell us why we’re here,’ said Stephen. ‘You called this emergency meeting after all.’
‘Yes,’ Felix said. He noticed his hand was trembling. He looked at Stephen. ‘This involves you.’
‘Oh, doesn’t it always …’
‘I’ll cut to the chase,’ Felix uttered.
Felix looked to Antonia and Blythe for support, both of whom gave him an indistinct nod to continue.
‘I have the great honour, Stephen, of telling you that working with you to get the project under way for the past couple of years has been deeply unpleasant. You’re a thoroughly nasty, selfish, cruel, spoilt little monster and –’ he stopped to catch a breath – ‘the three of us have come to an agreement. Can I ask you both to declare your position?’
‘You have my backing, James,’ Antonia said, and cast Stephen a disapproving look.
‘And you have this “daft old fart’s” vote too,’ Blythe added. He leant towards Stephen and patted him consolingly on the shoulder. ‘Terribly sorry, lad.’
‘That confirms it,’ Felix concluded. ‘You’re no longer a member of the Pledge, Stephen. Any privileges regarding the project are gone. You have forty-eight hours to return your key. You are finished.’ Felix spat these words with such zeal that a fine spray of spit exploded from his lips and speckled the table.
Stephen watched him, unblinking, unmoving.
‘Semper ad meliora,’ Felix recited. ‘I declare this meeting closed.’
Felix walked to the door, but Stephen spoke. ‘There’s no rule about voting out another member, Felix.’
‘But you’re forgetting the most important rule!’ said Felix. ‘That whoever is the wealthiest leads … and whoever leads gets to define the rules!’
Stephen furrowed his brow and brought a finger to his lips. ‘But that’s where this little plan of yours falls apart,’ he said. ‘Because you aren’t the wealthiest.’
Felix turned to Antonia and Blythe and laughed heartily.
‘Just before six o’clock this evening, I overtook you,’ Stephen said.
‘Nonsense,’ Felix said with a laugh.
‘Why don’t you call someone? I’m sure they could verify it.’
Felix removed his phone from his pocket and noticed several missed calls from his assistant. He dialled the number back. ‘What’s going on?’ he said into the phone.
‘I’m sorry, James,’ came the response, loud enough for the others to hear. ‘There’s been a bit of a problem. A butterfly effect … We’re trying our best to resolve it …’
‘You mean the businesses?’
‘Yes, James. No one could have ever foreseen this would happen.’
Felix’s voice grew quiet. ‘Why … why has no one told me?’
‘We’ve been trying to get hold of you but we haven’t been able to get through … We’ve sent emails, left messages, the lot … James? James, are you still there?’
Felix ended the call and lowered the phone. He stared at it for a few seconds.
‘Now,’ Stephen said, clasping his hands behind his head. ‘That puts me in a rather admirable position, doesn’t it?’
‘Blythe, Antonia,’ Felix urged. ‘We can still fight him.’
‘Don’t you
understand, old man?’ said Stephen. ‘Susannah has been working for me this whole time at the prison!’ He looked at Antonia and Blythe. ‘If I can ruin Felix’s fortune, I can do the same to the both of you. So choose your side wisely.’
‘He’s lying,’ Felix said. ‘Don’t do it. Don’t listen to him.’
‘Antonia?’ Stephen asked, delighted at Felix’s distress. ‘Blythe?’
Blythe considered this and looked at Felix sympathetically. ‘Dreadfully sorry, old boy … but I think you know what we have to do.’
‘For the greater good,’ Antonia added. ‘That’s what this was always supposed to be about, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but –’
‘That’s exactly what this is about,’ Stephen clarified. ‘The greater good. Not the crumbling ego of some pathetic, deluded old man. The Pledge lives on!’
Felix seemed to have aged another decade in mere minutes. He gave a half-nod, glared at the giggling Stephen, and walked slowly and quietly out of the room.
Alyn was still waiting in the hall when the doors to the auditorium opened and a flood of guests streamed out. Alyn got to his feet and slipped through the crowd, trying to keep sight of a stunned and shattered-looking Felix who had just emerged from the function room.
‘Mr Felix!’ Alyn called up, but was ignored. What happened up there?
‘James!’ exclaimed a man, putting his arm round Felix’s shoulder. ‘I just heard what happened, I –’
Felix shrugged him off and descended the staircase.
‘Something must’ve spooked the shareholders,’ another guest whispered behind his hand.
‘What did you say?’ Alyn said, turning towards the man who had spoken.
‘JF Industries took a massive hit,’ the guest said to Alyn. ‘His business is collapsing.’
Alyn weaved through the crowd to the main doors, just as Felix was leaving.
‘Mr Felix!’ Alyn called again.
Felix turned his head slowly. ‘I’m sorry, Alyn. I’m sorry. I need some time alone.’