by Matt Whyman
“This doesn’t concern you, Billy,” says Julius, and continues to pack his bag.
Billy turns his attention to Yoshi and the girl glowing quietly at his side. “Are you going, too?” he asks, sounding a little put out. “I’ll need it in writing if you are.”
“We’re trying to persuade Julius to stay,” says Livia, “but he won’t listen to reason.”
Billy shrugs, like this is no surprise, and invites them to sample a cookie from his tray. “If you’re heading out under the streets of London,” he calls across to Julius now, “you really should fill out the form. I’ll need to know your coordinates, plus your estimated time of return. It might mean some paperwork,” he adds, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the hull of the bunker, “but this ol’ tub would sink into chaos without it.”
“I doubt Julius can tell us when he’ll be back,” cautions Livia. “We’re beginning to think he might not come back at all.”
Yoshi watches Julius button up his bag and sling it over one shoulder, catching his eye just once. Then, with a sigh, the boy cracks open his fortune cookie, and flattens the scroll of paper inside.
“Read it out, then,” asks Billy proudly. “Let’s hear what your future has in store.”
Yoshi reads the message in silence, and exchanges a glance with Livia. She flattens her lips, and shrugs as if to signal that she won’t stand in his way. “It says I’m about to undertake a trip of a lifetime,” he tells Billy.
The old man clips shut the flap on his bag, and smiles without looking up. “It would be a pleasure to have your company, Yoshi. Not to mention your talents.”
Livia clears her throat, as if her presence could ever go unnoticed. “Don’t I get the same kind of praise?” she asks playfully. “If Yoshi goes, you have to count me in.”
It takes a second for Billy to work out what’s going on. “You can’t go without me as well,” he appeals. “I know how to build campfires underground. What are you going to eat without me there to cook it?”
As he speaks, a liver-spotted hand appears over his tray, and sweeps the remaining cookies into his shoulder bag. The Executive Deck Hand looks up, finds the old man beaming at him behind his whiskers. “This will do just fine,” he grins. “What would we do without you?”
Billy looks lost for words, but only for a second. “No disrespect to Yoshi and Livia, boss, but these guys are newbies.”
“Newbies with very special talents,” says Julius, much to Billy’s dismay.
“How many times, boss? This psychic stuff is just an illusion. There’s no such thing as real magic. They simply haven’t let on how it’s done.”
“That’s your view,” the old man replies, and winks at Yoshi and Livia. “We all see things differently.”
“As performers,” Billy continues, “I’m impressed. But like the rest of the crew, I don’t actually believe that Livia glows in the dark. Nor do I buy Yoshi’s claim that he can see things beyond the naked eye.” He pauses there, and faces them both directly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, guys, but isn’t it about time you expanded your act a little bit? If you’re about to face the unknown, you need to be ready for anything, and for that you need more than a few tricks up your sleeve. In my view, there’s one person in the crew with the street skills to keep you safe and sound . . .” Billy draws breath to suggest his own services, but a polite throat-clearing from the far end of the chamber causes everyone to turn to the hatch once more.
For up there on the boilerplate step stands a young Russian boy with red spiked hair and a nose ring. He’s flanked by the twins, both of whom look like they have seen a ghost.
“It’s kind of you to volunteer me,” Mikhail tells Billy, “but something has just shown up on the traffic cams that might change everything.”
“What is it?” asks Julius, concerned.
Mikhail is holding a hand-held media player, which he lobs across the space for Billy to catch.
“This had better be good,” the Executive Deck Hand mutters, stung by the interruption, and flips open the video screen so that everyone can see.
“I burned it straight off the feed just now,” says Mikhail, following the twins down the steps. “Before you hit ‘play’, I have to say you won’t believe your eyes.”
Billy tuts. “This had better not be a trick,” he says, and sets the player on the table so everyone can see. “Because any trick you can do, I can do better.”
“It’s no trick.” Scarlett looks to her twin sister to finish. The pair share the same expression of grave concern.
“Just run the footage,” says Blaize, addressing Yoshi and Livia. “Then say your prayers.”
16
FOLLOW THAT RICKSHAW!
The small screen might frame another busy, breezy day in Chinatown, but all eyes lock on to the hand-pulled cart. There it is, with two figures squashed in side-by-side, making slow progress through the bustling thoroughfare with the golden gates at each end. Indeed, whoever was monitoring the traffic cams from The Bridge when this happened was prompted to zoom so abruptly that the automatic focus takes a moment to catch up. And when the picture clears, everyone in the chamber can see that it’s him. From the bald polished dome with the rippling veins, and the long white mink coat that rarely left his shoulders, there’s no mistaking the fact that the brute is back from the dead.
“Aleister,” breathes Yoshi. “Will you ever stop shadowing me?”
Immediately, the boy is reminded of the first time he himself had arrived in this very same street. On that bone cold and fogbound night, he had been fleeing for his life, with the brute on foot in hot pursuit. Had he not discovered the buckled vent, and squeezed through in a bid to save his skin, he would never have discovered the bunker. Nor would he have joined the crew of young illusionists who took him under their wing.
Without the help of his new friends here, especially that of the old man at his side right now, he would be back in the Foundation. As would Livia and the twins, along with hordes of younger kids tuned into the same psychic wavelength as them. Aleister might’ve been waiting for seven of the best to mature so their powers could unlock the ring, but not any more. All that was history, thanks to Julius, Billy, Mikhail and the scores of young runaways and ragamuffins that had made this bunker their home. Indeed, due to a blow to the head when he first dropped through the vent, it’s the only family Yoshi knows. Quite how he found himself in the Foundation in the first place remains a mystery. Right now, however, the only burning question on his lips concerns the reappearance of a brute they had believed to be history. “I feel like I’m looking at a ghost,” he says. “It really is the last person I expected to see.”
“Who’s the slob squashed in beside him?” asks Billy, as the footage shows the rickshaw pull up outside some three-storey takeaway house. “Now there’s a man who really should lay off the sticky ribs and pancakes.”
Blaize glances across at Scarlett, who nods her consent. “It’s our daddy,” she announces quietly. “He’s the last person we expected to see.”
All eyes turn from the twins to the screen, and observe the scene in a new light now. Yoshi, Livia, Mikhail, Billy and Julius watch in silence as the man in the golf shirt squeezes himself inside the chophouse.
“No offence,” says Livia, “but you should be thankful that you don’t take after your father.”
“Oh, he isn’t our real father!” reveals Scarlett. “Ma just makes us call him that, and it just kind of stuck. Otto’s really our stepdaddy.”
“And no match for our real pa,” her sister adds bitterly. “He was a firefighter. One of New York’s finest. They said he could walk into an inferno to rescue the stranded, and return without a singe.”
“I’m beginning to see how you take after him,” notes Mikhail.
“He passed away just before we were born,” states Scarlett, out of nowhere, it seems. “We might have inherited the same genetic ability to play around with flames, but fires destroy buildings, and our poor pa
was at work inside one when it crashed down around his ears.”
A pause hangs over the twins, broken first by Yoshi, who says: “I’m sorry.”
“No need,” replies Blaize. “It happened a very long time ago. Our only regret is that our mother was never the same since his passing, which is why she thought Otto here could hope to fill his shoes. He isn’t a bad man, but then he only ever showed an interest in one aspect of our lives.” She stops there, and produces a shower of sparks with a click of her fingers. “As a talent agent, he had high hopes for us when our true nature developed.”
“Most kids want to run away from their families to join the circus,” says Scarlett, continuing in place of her sister. “In our family, Otto went to great lengths to sign us up himself.”
“So,” says Blaize to finish, “you’ll forgive us if we’re less than delighted to find him on our trail. It’s no surprise, mind you. He’s always wanted to visit Britain. If I’m right in thinking Aleister has brought him over to help in the search for us, Otto must be secretly beside himself with joy.”
Billy turns to view the big screen once again. “Does your stepfather have a problem choosing from the menu? He’s been in that store for ages.”
At this, Aleister appears to give up waiting for Otto. He climbs out of the rickshaw, and pays the fare to the exhausted puller. Finally, prompting a gasp around the table, the brute turns around and appears to scowl directly up at them.
“Stay calm,” says Julius. “There’s no way that he can see us. He’s just spotted a traffic camera. I should imagine a fiend like him doesn’t take kindly to living by the law.”
“I hope you’re right,” replies Billy. “Otherwise I’d say it’s because he’s finally worked out that we have access to the network.”
“Nonsense,” says the old man. “It would take a truly great illusionist to work out how you pull off your street tricks.”
The brute drops his murderous-looking expression just then. He glances over his shoulder, sees Otto at the chophouse counter with his back to the street, and then offers the lens a scheming smile. It’s an unnerving sight. More so when he raises a hand as if in greeting, and then shows the camera his palm.
“If you’re right,” observes Yoshi, chilled by what it reveals, “then we’re looking at a true master.”
This time, Julius doesn’t protest. Indeed, there’s no way now that anyone could argue that Aleister isn’t wise to their operation. For adorning the brute’s palm is an outline of an open eye, and it’s staring right at them.
17
A MOTH CLOSE TO THE CANDLE FLAME
“Is that a tattoo?” Mikhail peers at the screen, considering this image on the palm of the brute’s meaty paw. “It looks just like one. It’s in the same style as that one you can see colouring the inside of his wrist.”
As if in response, Aleister can be seen closing his hand into a fist. And when he uncurls his fingers and waves, the image on his palm has gone.
“Whatever it was, one thing is for sure.” Yoshi faces them all. “He knows how to reach us now.”
“Wait!” This is Scarlett, still watching the screen. “There really is something up his sleeve!”
Yoshi turns back to the screen, just as the brute draws out what looks like a length of rope. Then it wriggles in his grip, and everyone can see that it’s a snake. He hooks it gracefully around his shoulders, with an arch glance at the camera.
“Aleister might be back to his old tricks once again,” says the boy, watching the snake arrange itself into a neat knot, “but it’s hardly an invitation to head up to ground level and give him a round of applause.”
“There’s more,” Blaize says, silencing Yoshi.
In one hand now he holds a pen, and in the other a flip-top pad of paper. As he begins to write, so the camera zooms in as close as it can get.
“Who was at the controls when this happened?” asks Billy. “They’ve done a great job monitoring the situation.”
“It was me,” says Mikhail, without taking his eyes off the screen. “As soon as I saw him start to write I figured it was meant for us.”
The Executive Deck Hand seems a little jarred at this. He rolls his shoulders, as if to loosen up some tension in his neck. “I would’ve got in a bit closer,” he comments next. “In fact, Mikhail, you could’ve switched to the camera on the opposite side of the street. That way, we’d be able to see what he was writing.”
“No need,” replies Mikhail, just as the brute turns the pad around and holds it high. “I think we can all read what’s on his mind.”
Blaize moves in close, and reads out the message.
“Bring out the twins.” As soon as she pauses to draw breath, the brute flips the sheet to reveal another line underneath. Then Otto steps out into the street behind him, clutching a bucket of sticky ribs. Aleister glances over his shoulder, shrugging at the camera like he can’t help the message Blaize then finishes reading aloud. “Or it’s feeding time for the snake.”
The twins turn to one another, looking equally torn.
“Otto might be an overgrown idiot at times,” says Scarlett, “but unfortunately he also makes our mother happy. We can’t stay here and hope that snake isn’t hungry for a bite. We’ll have to give ourselves up.”
For once, Blaize doesn’t seem so happy to let her sister speak on her behalf. She frowns at the footage of her stepfather, says: “After the little fire incident at our last school, Otto told the press he was relieved to see the back of us. I saw the headlines myself when we were waiting for our trial to begin. He didn’t do much to save us then. Why should we save him?”
“But he’s family!” protests Scarlett. “I know he needs to be taught a sharp lesson, but I couldn’t live with myself if we stood by and watched him come to any harm. Daddy dedicated his life to rescuing people. It’s in the blood, Blaize. If that means handing ourselves back to Aleister, so be it.”
“Maybe the four of us should go,” suggests Livia, glancing at Yoshi as well as the twins. “Aleister won’t rest until all of us back in his care. At least this way we’ll still be together.”
“If you return to his Foundation,” warns Julius, “London would come closer to a deeply uncertain future. Besides,” he says, and shoulders the canvas bag, “there is another option available to us. One that could spare your father and leave Aleister with no use for any of you.”
“And what is that?” asks Yoshi.
“We lay claim to the seventh waypoint in the Faerie Ring.”
“The what?” Billy looks at Mikhail, who seems equally bemused. “With all due respect, Julius, this is not a time for one of your underground flights of fancy.” He stops and points at the ceiling. “There’s a crazy man above ground with a snake around his shoulders, and he’s making threats we can’t ignore. I really don’t think now is the time to start waving a wand, or whatever hocus-pocus you have in mind. My advice is to call the cops.”
“The police are powerless against a fellow of Aleister’s standing,” warns Julius. “Believe me, he’s a man who moves in very high circles indeed. Our only hope now is to seize control of the ring,” he continues, zoning in on the four psychics around the table now. “If we can do so from a single waypoint, Aleister would have to admit defeat.”
“You can count us in,” mutters Scarlett, clearly simmering still. “When do we leave?”
On the screen, the brute can be seen scribbling one more message on his pad. A pause hangs over the gathering in the Map Room, as they wait for him to reveal all. And when he does, Scarlett’s question finds an answer.
“You have . . . until nightfall,” says Billy, reading from the scrawl. “Mikhail, when did you record this footage?”
“This morning. As soon as I started my shift.”
“Then we’ve no time to lose,” says Yoshi. “Julius, you had better lead the way.”
The old man strokes his beard, considering each youngster in turn. “Billy,” he says finally, “I want you to stay insi
de the bunker, and monitor the situation from the Bridge. You have complete control.”
“Hallelujah!” Billy punches the air, skating round on the spot.
“Should you come under threat from Aleister, respond with your brand of street magic.” He waits for the Executive Deck Hand to come full circle to face him, and then adds: “I think we both know what I’m saying here.”
“Roger that!” says Billy. “You can consider me the master of misdirection, the sultan of suggestion and the ambassador for all illusion.”
“That’s fine by me. So long as you can mind the twins at the same time.”
“What?” His face drops.
“We can’t risk bringing them with us.”
“No way!” cries Scarlett. “We’re coming, too!”
“It’s too risky,” reasons Julius. “We just can’t afford to have you both at large under London along with Yoshi and Livia. If Aleister caught up with us, I could lose four psychics in one stroke. At least by keeping you safe I have an equal chance of saving this city should the worst happen out there.”
“Aleister’s right,” agrees Yoshi, with some reluctance.
“Not only is the bunker fully bombproof,” Julius continues to reason, “but the Bridge has its own lockdown mechanism should the hull suffer a breach. Ultimately,” he finishes, and claps Billy on one shoulder, “you’re in safe hands with this young man.”
The twins consult one another in silence. They even sigh as one, and step back as Julius turns to Mikhail. For a moment he simply sizes up the young Russian, as if considering his worth.
“You have to take me,” Mikhail pleads. “I may not light up as Livia does, or see further than the naked eye like Yoshi, but I do other tricks.”