by Matt Whyman
For the Walbrook may be long gone here, but instead, to his great horror, is a river of discarded bones.
28
A BAD GUY IN THE BUNKER
Billy No-Beard’s eyes look set to pop from their sockets. His entire face has turned the colour of a tomato in a sauna, and he’s struggling for breath. Even his rollerblades are swinging freely, and scrabble against the wall of the gangway
“No way!” he croaks. “I’d rather walk a plank than tell you that!”
The cause of his current predicament is standing before him. It certainly feels to the boy like the brute has one meaty paw locked around his throat. As it is, Aleister is watching from some distance away, with both hands clasped casually behind his back.
“I’m asking you nicely,” he growls at the boy in his psychic grip. At the same time, the Executive Deck Hand finds himself hoisted a notch higher up the wall. “Where are Yoshi and Livia?”
“Leave him alone!” pleads Scarlett, who tugs in vain at the brute’s mink sleeve. “He’s harmless.”
“I am not!” splutters Billy. “I know my kung fu!”
Aleister chuckles, and gathers the snake from his young helper. Blaize simply stands at his side impassively, much to Scarlett’s concern.
“What have you done to my sister?” she demands to know. “Why won’t you leave us alone?”
With the snake’s diamond head in his fist, Aleister steps up and brings it nose to nose with Billy. The vine-like veins that clad the brute’s dome start to pulse under the pressure.
“Because,” he snarls, “without your cooperation I cannot hope to unlock the Faerie Ring. Do you realise how close I came to amassing seven of the finest psychics this city has ever seen? Together with your sister, Yoshi, Livia, and myself, of course, I had only two more waypoints to cover for the connection to be complete! It would only have been a matter of time before several of the youngsters at the Foundation came into their own. With all seven waypoints activated, and every ley line coursing with earth energy, London’s future would’ve been mine to direct. And it still will be, once you’re all back in my care.”
“You’re a beast!” cries Scarlett, quite literally fuming now. She thumps at him uselessly, unable to fry him for fear of worsening Billy’s ordeal. “I’m just sorry that when Yoshi freed us from the Foundation he didn’t take every last kid!”
“It’s cost me years of dedication to get this close,” snarls Aleister, as the snake calmly observes Billy’s struggle. “I will not sit back and allow a bunch of young upstarts to ruin everything for me. The Faerie Ring demands seven psychics for seven waypoints. It has been that way since the time of the city’s founding fathers. If you want to spare your poor friend here then seven is what I shall get.”
Throughout the brute’s tirade, Blaize has listened intently. As he returns to tormenting the Executive Deck Hand, she frowns and asks: “Why seven?”
The brute shifts his gaze to the twin under his spell. Judging by the sharpening focus in her eyes, however, he figures it won’t be long before she’s kicking and screaming like her sister. “Pardon me?” he asks.
“If you can find the seventh waypoint, you only need one psychic to control the ring.”
Aleister’s brow crumples into an almighty frown. “Nonsense,” he declares, and redoubles his grip on Billy.
“It’s true. We heard Julius telling Yoshi all about the waypoint under St Luke’s. The one supposedly out of bounds because of the butchers.”
“Blaize!” her sister scolds. “That’s enough!”
Aleister swings his attention back around. “They’ve travelled to St Luke’s?” he asks, sounding strangely alarmed. “They might never come back alive!”
All this time, the snake looms closer to Billy’s face. The poor boy has gone boss-eyed in his bid to keep a bead on it, but this is the moment he’d been praying for. With the brute distracted by the twins, he drives one knee hard between Aleister’s legs, and suddenly finds that he can breathe freely.
“Oof!”
The brute drops to the deckplate, dragging the serpent with him. Scarlett is about to place another kick for good measure, only to be restrained by her sister.
“What’s going on?” asks Blaize, sounding less sleepy all of a sudden. “And what’s Aleister doing here? That’s a painful cough he’s got.”
Billy and Scarlett look from the hulking figure at their feet to the twin with the blue and silver braids.
“Are you feeling OK?” Scarlett asks her sister.
“Sure!” Blaize replies, and then reflects on what she’s just said. “Have I been away?” she asks. “My mind’s gone a bit blank.”
“That’s probably for the best.” Billy rubs his neck, and rolls around the groaning fiend. “Didn’t I say I knew my martial arts?”
“With all due respect,” says Scarlett, “you fight like a girl.”
“Who cares?” he replies, grinning now. “I took him down! When Julius hears about this, I am in line for one big promotion!”
A wounded voice cuts in from the floor just then. “If Julius really has travelled to the seventh waypoint, you might never see him again.” From the heap, Aleister lifts himself gingerly into a sitting position. He glances up at Billy and the twins, looking vulnerable all of a sudden. “None of them will survive,” he warns, and coughs once more into his fist. “Julius has effectively led them to their deaths.”
Scarlett looks affronted. She folds her arms and scowls at him. “So which of the seven psychics had you planned to dispatch once you’d gathered them together, huh?”
Aleister bows his head. “It was to be my sacrifice,” he confesses. “For the sake of the city.”
The three crew members turn to one another, barely able to digest what they’ve just heard.
“But you’re supposed to be the bad guy!” is all Billy can say.
The brute smiles sadly. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he tells them. “As a street magician, you of all people should know that.”
“How can we believe you?” asks Blaize. She touches her temple, as if bothered by the tail end of a headache. “I feel as if you’ve already tricked me once today.”
Aleister picks himself off the floor, rising up to his full height. As he does so, the snake slips back around his neck, nuzzling him protectively. “Show me how to get out into the tunnels from here,” he requests, brushing himself down. “I can prove my intentions if you’ll allow me to help you.”
“Don’t look into his eyes,” Billy warns, as if facing into the sun. “We’ve seen what he can do, Blaize, so you’re right to be cautious!”
Aleister raises his swarthy palms in submission. “There’s no time for hypnosis,” he tells them. “I’m simply appealing to you to show me the way for the sake of your special friends. They’re as valuable to me as they are to you. We all want to see them again, so give me this chance to bring them back.”
“No deal,” Billy replies flatly. “You won’t catch me falling for such a basic deception. I may not believe in this kooky ring thing, but if we point you in their direction you might just lay claim to the seventh waypoint.”
“I understand why you question my motives,” he agrees, rising to his feet now. “But then there’s always a chance that I’m not bluffing about the danger they face, and you’d have to live with that on your conscience for the rest of your days.”
With great reluctance, and a very long sigh, Scarlett steps aside. Her sister joins her. Blaize then looks at Billy, who still stands in his way.
“What would Julius say to this?” he mutters after a moment, and invites the brute to follow him down to the Map Room.
“If I can reach them before it’s too late,” says Aleister, “you might just hear it from the old man himself.”
Otto Tempesta stands at the counter in the dim sum house with his eyes closed. Things are shaping up here. Now that Blaize had seen sense and surfaced, Scarlett would not be far behind. Then he could phone Marlene, and w
ith a little reinvention of the facts he’d return home as a hero to her. He could be looking at cooked meals every night of the week for a month. And if he really got lucky, she’d learn to rustle up Far Eastern fare that smelled as good as this! He inhales deeply, and an expression of unbridled bliss seems to radiate from his nostrils. This little jaunt across the Atlantic might be coming to a close, he thinks to himself, but, man oh man, what a feast for the senses it has been!
“Whatever you got cooking in your kitchens, ma’am, it smells mighty fine to me.”
The little woman on the other side of the counter eyes Otto with suspicion. Mae Ling has been in this business for decades, running everything from market stalls to restaurants, but never has a customer shown such enthusiasm. Between them on the counter, a rank of brown paper bags contain virtually everything she’d prepared for a whole day. This guy just waddles in, picks off everything from the shelves, and here he is hinting at wanting more.
“Mister, you already got extra helpings. Are you sure your eyes aren’t bigger than your belly?”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Otto assures her with a twinkle in his eye. “Besides, it ain’t all for me.”
“Oh sure,” replies Mae Ling. “They all say that.”
“Just bring it on,” he tells her. “I can pay in cash.”
Mae Ling considers all the money he begins to count out. “You wait here,” she tells him, raising one finger as if in caution. “I’ll be right back.”
Otto watches her disappear between the curtains behind her. As she does so, steam billows through the gap so thickly she effectively vanishes from sight. Once again, Otto savours the sweet and spicy aromas lacing the air. It’s as if he’s guided by his nose, in fact, for within seconds he’s in front of the drapes and peering into the kitchens.
Mae Ling works fast, switching between boiling pans and chopping boards piled with chestnuts, shrimp and mushrooms. At one point, she appears to have lost something, searching as she does through her cupboards. Otto licks his lips, hoping this won’t delay things, especially when she abandons her search and heaves open a trapdoor in the floor. He cranes to see where she’s heading, and even creeps into the kitchen when she disappears from sight.
Through the trapdoor, Otto can hear her search continuing. Intrigued, he squats at the edge and looks down. At the foot of the ladder, he sees some kind of store. What’s weird is the light, which appears to shimmer as if reflecting from water, while the distant sound of a harp makes him think this is more than just a cellar. Otto sits upright, and appears to conduct a silent conversation in his thoughts. Judging by the see-sawing expressions on his face, it seems he’s torn between clearing back to the counter and heading down for a quick look around. By the time he’s reached a decision, he’s backing gingerly onto the first rung of the ladder.
“Hey! Mister! What you doing?”
Otto freezes, and peers under his arm. Mae Ling is directly below him. She’s clutching a bottle of oyster sauce, and looking none too pleased with his appearance here.
“No offence, ma’am,” he says. “I’m just a li’l ol’ tourist.” Otto glances around, and is surprised at what he sees. “Nice place you got hidden down here.”
“It’s private,” says Mae Ling, but Otto doesn’t seem to hear.
From his vantage on the ladder, he finds himself peering down at what looks more like some vast oriental curiosity collection. Packing crates are stacked beside huge Ming vases and open sacks brimming with rice. Behind Mae Ling is a lotus pool, which twinkles in the light cast from all the paper lanterns dotted around the place. A gangway winds around the pool, and disappears behind a maze of hanging silks and bamboo screens. Otto loses count of the number of passages leading in and out of this underground space, and whistles his appreciation.
“I been reading the wrong guidebooks,” he says, noting the bird cages and jade statues. “This is really something.”
“You not allowed down here,” Mae Ling tells him in vain. “It’s not for your eyes.”
Otto hears her this time, and notes the desperation in her voice. He’s aware that other people are picking up on his presence. Heads are beginning to pop up like farmers in a paddy field. He tips his finger to his temple to salute them, sensing some hostility but half wondering if it would be OK to take a photo. Then a figure some way across the space grabs his attention. It’s a bald-headed figure in a mink. Just a glimpse of him moving between screens, and all of a sudden Otto is shouting and waving at the top of his voice.
“Hey, big guy! Over here! It’s me! Where are you going? What’s the hurry? Wait up! Wherever you’re heading, I’m coming, too!”
Mae Ling is forced to stand well back when her uninvited guest slides down the last few steps. He pauses to gather his breath, and slaps a handful of money into her hand. “Put the extra helping on hold, ma’am. I’ll be back a little later for it all.”
“Where you going?”
Otto clambers around her, accidentally spilling a bag of rice across the floor in his haste to catch up with Aleister.
“To work up an appetite,” he calls back, hurrying for the passage into which the brute has just vanished. “I’m very health conscious!”
29
AMONG BONES
The crunch is what really makes Yoshi wince. It’s a soul-jarring sound that reminds him what he’s treading on with every step he takes. His twin torch beams pick out pig bones from head to trotter as he makes his way along the riverbed. Bleached white, and knitted at random, they sink and crackle with every footfall.
“Don’t look down,” he breathes, as if walking a perilous precipice. “It has to be here somewhere.”
He trains his lights upon the tunnel roof instead, and wills himself to keep listening to the orchestra. Despite the many flies buzzing around, the music grounds him somehow. It serves to remind him of city life on the surface, and the reason why he’s here.
For this is the location for the seventh waypoint. A place so fearful, according to Julius, that nobody had dared to venture here. Way back at the broken tunnel mouth, on the same level now, Yoshi can still hear a lone voice cooing in a bid to coax a pig into its clutches, but that’s all behind him. It could’ve been worse, he tells himself. After the old man had explained how a band of butchers and their women had gone to ground to escape the Great Fire, he expected to find the place seething with an entire generation of savages. What’s more, the tunnel appears to be punctured with bolt-holes like the one he had just crept through. With a sweep of his torch beams, he notes they’re all around him. Even if this was once a hive of activity, he observes, it looks to be history now. He lengthens his stride, still scanning the roof in search of the keystone, but has to remind himself not to whistle. Even if there were just one or two wretches remaining down here, it wouldn’t do to attract their attention. After a lifetime of subterranean solitude, the boy thinks to himself, discovering a visitor would scare them to death!
Yoshi smiles briefly at the thought, and then grins outright when his torch lights find what he’s come this far to find. A jagged star with seven points, etched into a brick. He draws up underneath and brushes at it with his fingertips. What falls away isn’t grit, however, but a shower of luminous atoms. As he has witnessed before, at other waypoints in the ring, these flecks tinkle like wind chimes, and appear to fall out of step with gravity. Yoshi watches them settle upon the bed of bones, reverting on contact to grime, and prepares to fire up the ring.
“Think positive,” he tells himself, mindful of the old man’s advice. This time, he places his palm squarely over the etching and closes his eyes. The first thing to flash into his mind is Livia. He pictures her with the others, waiting anxiously on the other side of the divide. Seeing how concerned she seems makes him feel warm on the inside, which is just the buzz he needs right now to complete the task at hand. They’re huddled behind a rock, and it’s then that Yoshi realises he’s not imagining this but viewing them remotely. A moment later he sees Liv
ia look around as if an invisible presence has just tapped her on the shoulder.
“It’s me!” he whispers now, and is delighted to see her aura brighten.
“Yoshi! I can hear your voice in my head. I know it’s you! What’s happening? As soon as that . . . that thing appeared at the tunnel mouth, we thought it was all over for you.”
“Can you see it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“What does it look like?”
“It isn’t pretty,” is all she says. “But have you found the waypoint? It’s high time we got as far away from this godforsaken place as we can.”
“I’m activating it right now,” he tells her. “You should see something happen at any moment.”
“Then focus on that waypoint, Yoshi. We can’t have you wasting energy talking to me.”
He sees her pretending to scold him, and allows the image to fade away. Even so, her parting comment sends a tingle through his spine.
Unfortunately, on opening his eyes after a moment, Yoshi finds it’s the only reaction that seems to have occurred. The boy tries one more time, focusing entirely on the keystone this time, but again with no effect.
“It must be faulty,” he decides, and thumps the brick in frustration. He had expected a spark at the very least. Some signal that he had tapped into the earth energies in constant circulation around the ring. Previously, he had unleashed a torrent of water, while Livia and the twins had demonstrated similar abilities by doing exactly as he had done here. “Why won’t it work?”
For a moment Yoshi just stands there, lost in thought. He wonders how Julius might react if he returns to the abyss and calls across that he’s failed. Then he considers how he’s going to get himself back to the other side, and a sense of panic sets in. It serves to wake him up to his surroundings once again. Orchestral music continues to whisper through the tunnel, as does the ghastly muttering from the broken tunnel mouth. What’s different, he realises with a start, is that something else can be heard: a sound like children at play, and it’s coming out of the dark behind him.