by G. P. Taylor
‘Another!’ shouted Walpole as he sat in the front row, his head in his hands and unable to think for the screeching of the barrel organ.
Grendel shot again and again. Automata exploded with every bullet, stopped in their dancing. The music began to slow and eventually fade. Grendel reloaded the pistol as he fired and fired until there was only one automaton left.
‘It could be him,’ Grendel screamed above the sound of the dying music.
Walpole took a long harsh look, lifting the porkpie hat from his head and staring down the ridge of his long, sharp nose.
‘It’s a puppet – just looks like the lad,’ he said after he had scrutinised it for several seconds. ‘Shoot it – he’s not here.’
Grendel took aim.
‘It could be Mariah. If we kill him we won’t find the Ghost Diamonds,’ Grimm said.
Grendel’s hand began to shake. He was unsure whether he should fire.
‘Do it!’ shouted Walpole as the spotlight began to fade and the theatre darkened.
The puppet danced quietly in the shadows at the back of the stage. It was as if it knew what was going to happen. It slowed in its pace until it stood looking at Grendel. Putting its hand in its pocket, it took out a shining diamond.
‘Wait!’ screamed Walpole as he saw the large stone in its hand. ‘It’s Mariah Mundi.’
The puppet jerked in its movements as its fingers slowly opened. Grendel kept the gun aimed at its chest, his hand shaking. As the puppet slumped forward, resting on its wires, the diamond dropped from its fingers and rolled towards them.
Grimm jumped on the stage and picked up the stone, holding it to the fading spotlight.
‘A Ghost Diamond,’ he said as the light dimmed until he was a brief shadow.
All was silent except for the rolling of three more diamonds that tumbled down the rake of the stage.
‘Any more, Mariah?’ Walpole asked.
There was silence.
Grimm walked across the stage and picked up the diamonds, stuffing them into the pockets of his long raincoat. He stopped and looked at the puppet in the shadows by the side of the stage. Reaching out with his hand, he touched the forehead. It was cold and yet vaguely human, as if masked.
‘It’s a mechanical doll,’ he said as he looked back into the gloom of the theatre. From where he stood, Grendel and Walpole were indistinct shadows.
‘You have the diamonds,’ Mariah said from somewhere nearby. ‘You can have the rest when you tell me if I am a free man.’
‘I thought you would ask for the life of your friend,’ Walpole asked.
‘He was innocent,’ Mariah replied.
‘Of course he was, Mariah Mundi. But someone had to take the blame. That was what I was ordered to do.’
‘You? Ordered?’ said Mariah as his voice echoed around the darkened theatre.
‘I am just a cog in the works, just like your dancing dummies – I do what I’m told and in return have my own piece of freedom.’
‘You danced for the Templar, Bardolph,’ Mariah said.
‘Many people dance for him. The world would dance for him if he had the chance,’ Walpole replied.
‘And you’ll take the diamonds and give them to Bardolph?’
‘Of course, and then we’ll take this place.’
‘Then Packavi will go free?’ Mariah asked.
‘He had his uses. Got rid of a problem for us in Whitechapel and did the same here. There will be some other city that needs its vermin eliminating,’ Walpole replied. ‘You will go free – he will not harm you now, I will see to that … Come out. I don’t like speaking to the dark.’
Mariah took three paces onto the stage and made his way through the dangling corpses of the automata. He could see Walpole and Grendel below him in the front row. Grimm stood nearby, holding the wire of a puppet as if afraid to move.
It was then that Mariah noticed an even darker shadow behind him. It had the shape of a man with a hood cast across its face. A long knife was pressed against Grimm’s neck.
‘Don’t be thinking you’re going anywhere with those diamonds,’ Packavi said as he held the knife to Grimm’s throat.
‘I wouldn’t …’ Grimm squealed.
‘Give them to me.’
‘Packavi!’ Walpole shouted. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Orders. Just like you. Make sure you didn’t mess things up – can’t be trusted, the Templar said.’ Packavi grunted, choking on each word. ‘Taking them back and doing the job I came to do.’
‘It’s over – we have the diamonds, and the hotel,’ Walpole insisted.
‘Only when he is dead. We couldn’t get his father but we can get him,’ Packavi sneered as he pushed Grimm to the floor and walked towards Mariah.
‘How many have you killed, Packavi?’ Mariah asked as he stood his ground.
‘Not enough,’ he replied.
‘Then I will not run. Take me here. I don’t fear you,’ he said as the madman approached within an arm’s length and drew back his knife to strike.
In a blinding flash, the stage was flooded with light as two explosions fired from beneath Mariah’s feet. They echoed about the room, and when all was still Mariah had vanished yet again, swallowed by the trap door.
Packavi looked at Walpole.
‘He plays tricks with us,’ the man screamed as he slashed the air with the knife. ‘Bring him back at once.’
Before he could say another word, Mariah reappeared and ran onto the stage, a hook and wire in his hand. Packavi turned just as Mariah sank the hook into his chest.
‘Now!’ shouted Mariah.
There was a whirring of the winch above his head as Packavi was ripped from the ground and dangled helplessly above them all. Walpole clapped his hands slowly as Packavi dangled by the front of his waistcoat.
‘Well done! What an entertainment! The boy vanishes and reappears to save the day. What will he do next?’ He licked his lips slowly. ‘Mister Grendel – shoot him.’
‘Not before I shoot you,’ Charity said as one by one all of the theatre lights brightened. His face was steely grey, his eyes set towards Walpole. Mariah had never seen him look that way before. It was as if his hardened heart brimmed full of anger.
Walpole looked about him. There in the balcony was Captain Jack Charity. The pistol in his hand was aimed at Walpole’s head. As he looked further he saw other men coming out from their hiding places. Sacha stood by a panel of switches at the side of the stage. Then the door opened and Isambard Black and Commissioner Ritchie stepped into the theatre.
‘It’s over,’ said Isambard Black as he pointed his pistol at Walpole. ‘Commissioner Ritchie is from the Metropolitan Division. We have heard your confession, Inspector Walpole.’
Walpole slumped back into a seat and stretched out his long legs and sighed.
‘I thought a fat lady had to sing before it was over?’ he asked quietly.
‘Not yet …’ The voice was that of Bardolph, who had Sacha in his grasp and was dragging her to the wings. ‘Put down your weapons!’ he shouted as he turned to Mariah. ‘Give me the diamonds, Mariah Mundi, and I will allow your friend to live.’
Mariah looked at Charity and then to Isambard Black.
‘Don’t do it, Mariah. He wouldn’t hurt her,’ Charity shouted.
‘Mister Grendel, take the diamonds from the boy. Mister Grimm, come with me.’
Bardolph edged his way slowly to the centre of the stage, dragging Sacha with him. Mariah could see the fear in her eyes. She whispered something that he couldn’t hear.
‘Take the diamonds!’ Mariah shouted. ‘They mean nothing to me. Just leave Sacha alone.’
‘Very wise, Mariah Mundi,’ Bardolph growled through twisted lips.
‘What about me?’ screamed Walpole as he realised he was being left behind.
‘Disposable, Mister Walpole. The Society of Truth is bigger than us all and sometimes we have to make sacrifices.’
Grendel sauntered across the stage.
‘Got the diamonds?’ he asked as he stooped above Mariah.
Mariah handed him the bag of fake stones, hoping he wouldn’t see they were only glass.
‘Very clever puppets you have there,’ Grendel said as he tapped the head of a broken automaton.
‘I need Packavi,’ Bardolph insisted. ‘Let him down, Mariah,’ he ordered before Grendel could finish speaking.
Mariah walked across the stage as Bardolph gripped Sacha tightly. He noticed a small silver derringer pressed into her back. She mouthed some words to Mariah again. He realised suddenly what she was trying to say.
‘You’ll have to stand away from the puppets,’ Mariah said as he reached for a lever on the control panel by the side of the stage. ‘They’ll all have to be released if you want Packavi.’
‘Just get him down, no tricks,’ Bardolph quipped as he stepped back.
The stage beneath his feet sagged as he stood upon it. Bardolph didn’t notice anything strange. He kept one eye on Mariah and the other on Charity and the agents from the Bureau of Antiquities.
‘We’ll hunt you down, Bardolph. There’ll be no escape,’ Isambard Black shouted from the back of the theatre as he hustled slowly forward.
‘Another city and another name, is that not right, Isambard Black? The Society of Truth matters more than life itself. I will disappear like the mist in this barren place,’ Bardolph replied.
There was a click as Mariah flicked the lever. Packavi was lowered and the puppets fell to the stage. Bardolph stood as if in the centre of a charnel ground. Packavi got to his feet and smiled beneath his mask.
‘What would you like me to do with the boy?’ he asked Bardolph, hoping he would allow him to kill him there and then.
‘Take him,’ Bardolph said in a constrained voice as his words were interrupted by a sharp clunk beneath his feet.
‘Sacha – NOW!’ screamed Mariah.
Without thinking, Sacha hit Bardolph as hard as she could and broke free. Before he could fire the gun, Bardolph was blasted into the air. Letting go of his grip on the derringer, he tried to scream. He somersaulted several times then crashed to the stage. The power ramrod flashed back beneath the stage with a hiss of steam as Bardolph writhed at Packavi’s feet.
‘Kill him!’ Bardolph ordered, gasping for breath and unable to move. ‘Kill them both!’
Before Packavi could attack, Sacha grabbed a sword from an automaton. In a move of her hand it flashed through the darkness. Packavi stumbled back, holding his stomach as he collapsed to the floor.
Sacha turned and smiled at Mariah. ‘See – told you I could be trusted,’ she said with a note of triumph in her voice.
The derringer fired. There was a muffled blast, an intense flash, and then Sacha trembled as if someone had run their finger down her spine. She stumbled forward, reaching out for Mariah, unable to speak. Then, as he ran to her, she fell to the floor.
Bardolph raised the pistol again as he tried to escape. Grimm and Grendel ran from the stage. Mariah dived upon Bardolph and managed to grab the hand and hold the gun to the floor before he could fire again. Agents leapt from the balcony to the floor below.
‘Could have been different, boy,’ Bardolph grunted. ‘You could have been one of us – made up for your father’s fear.’
With one hand, Mariah grabbed the wire from a mannequin. He pushed the hook under Bardolph’s belt as he twisted the gun from his hand. Then, with a sharp tug, he pulled the counterweight from its holder high above them. The wire tensed as the weight fell. Bardolph was pulled from the stage. He was fired through the air, higher and higher. His screams echoed in the theatre until, with a sudden thud, they were no more.
A single drop of blood fell to the stage as Mariah cradled Sacha in his arms. He felt the wound on her back. The bullet had struck her shoulder, tearing a line through her skin.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Charity said as agents surrounded them.
‘It happened so quickly, I didn’t know what to do,’ Mariah replied.
‘You have done well,’ said Isambard Black as Walpole and Packavi were led away.
‘Grimm and Grendel?’ Mariah asked.
‘Gone,’ replied Isambard Black. ‘It is better that way – no one will find out about us.’ Sacha opened her eyes and took hold of Mariah’s hand.
‘It was the best performance I have ever seen – they danced so well,’ she said.
‘Thanks to you, Sacha,’ he replied.
As they left the Prince Regent Mariah sniffed the cold night air.
‘They’ll be no more trouble, Jack,’ said Isambard Black as he led Walpole to the prison van.
‘We can be open again in the morning,’ Mariah replied as he stood looking across the road to Athol House. ‘What will become of The Society of Truth?’
‘All will be quiet for a while. Athol House will be sold and no one will ask any questions,’ replied Captain Jack as he watched the door of the cart being slammed in Walpole’s face.
‘Bardolph mentioned my father – said I could have been one of them, it would have made up for my father’s fear. What did he mean?’
‘They had wanted your father to join with them. They knew to have a man like him on their side would have meant an ultimate victory,’ Charity said as he deliberated his words.
‘Did he?’ asked Mariah.
‘He would never darken the doors of such a place – called it the dangerous boys’ club and if a man had to join, then life must be very sad,’ Charity said as he patted Mariah on the back.
‘But what about the power, the influence? Perhaps he would have –’
‘He was an honest man and not one for subterfuge and intrigue. It would not have suited him,’ said Isambard.
‘How did you know where we were?’ Mariah asked Isambard.
‘Mister Quadlibett told me,’ Isambard said. ‘He met me from the train. I had received a telegram – in fact two in the same day. One from Sacha, the other from Mrs Mukluk.’
‘From Sacha?’ Mariah asked as he looked at Jack Charity.
‘Sent from the post office on the pier,’ he replied.
‘So she did send it, Captain,’ he said, now knowing she had kept her word.
‘Are you sure you want to continue with this place?’ Isambard asked as the carriage trundled away with Walpole screaming to be free. ‘You can’t put new wine in an old wine skin.’
‘It works well for the Bureau and it still has many secrets to give up,’ Charity replied.
‘We have made enemies, Jack. Enemies with the memory of an elephant,’ said Isambard as he pulled his leather gloves over his chilled fingers. ‘They will be back to haunt you.’
‘Still, Zogel has the Ghost Diamonds and they must be worth going after?’ Mariah asked.
‘He will be long gone by the morning and it’ll be some time before we see more of him,’ Charity replied.
‘The Society of Truth – do they really control the world without us knowing?’ he said.
‘Only when good men do nothing and the last agent of the Bureau of Antiquities is no more,’ replied Isambard Black.
Praise for Mariah Mundi:
‘When Harry Potter hangs up his wizard’s cloak, booksellers will be looking to G. P. Taylor’s Mariah Mundi – The Midas Box, to keep the cash tills ringing.’ BBC News
‘It really is wonderful, wonderful stuff … Mariah Mundi surpasses Potter on just about every level there is. Highly recommended.’ The Bookbag
‘The book that combines the big story of C. S. Lewis and the plot of an Indiana Jones movie. We could genuinely be looking at the book series that will replace Harry Potter at the top of every child’s wish list.’ BuddyHollywood Review
Praise for Shadowmancer:
‘The biggest event in children’s fiction since Harry Potter.’ The Times
‘The adventure unfolds at a vivid and breathless pace.’ Observer
‘Shadowmancer is flying off the bookshelves as if a wizard had incanted a charm on it.’
Herald
‘A magical tale of vicars and witches.’ Daily Telegraph
‘A compelling and dark-edged fantasy … highly recommended.’ Independent
Praise for Wormwood:
‘Wormwood is breathtaking in scope … an extraordinary achievement told by a master storyteller. The book is, quite simply, marvellous.’ Guardian
Praise for Tersias:
‘It is, in a word, brilliant. Colourful, dramatic, relentless, accessible to children – and more frightening for their parents.’ Scotsman
‘The plot hurtles along carrying the reader from one cliffhanger to the next.’ Daily Telegraph
About the Author
G. P. Taylor is the author of several bestselling novels, including Shadowmancer, Shadowmancer: The Curse of Salamander Street, Wormwood and Tersias, as well as the Mariah Mundi trilogy. A former vicar of Cloughton in Yorkshire, he has enjoyed a varied career, moving from rock music to social work to ten years in the police force before his ordination. He now lives with his family in Scarborough.
Also by G. P. Taylor
SHADOWMANCER
WORMWOOD
TERSIAS
SHADOWMANCER: THE CURSE OF SALAMANDER STREET
MARIAH MUNDI: THE MIDAS BOX
Copyright
First published in 2008
by Faber and Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2010