Just as Jake thought he was starting to go mad, he decided to block the subject from his mind until he was calm enough to think about it rationally.
The following morning, just before dawn, he arrived back in Cologne – where, before charging off to save Topaz, he had told his parents to wait. The grand square in front of the cathedral was almost deserted, but three familiar figures huddled together on the steps of the quay. One of them, sensing something, sat up. It was Miriam Djones. On seeing her beloved son, she leaped in the air, jumping for joy.
The Djoneses, Paolo Cozzo and Felson (who was timid and apprehensive at first, but soon warmed to Jake’s family) set off after breakfast and made their way up the Rhine to the southern corner of Germany, until they could travel by water no more.
They stopped in the small town where Jake had stayed with Topaz and Charlie on their way to Castle Schwarzheim. As they made enquiries as to the best way to continue their journey to Venice, they were rewarded with the most unexpected piece of luck. The travelling players who had performed Oedipus to an enraptured audience three nights previously were themselves heading for Italy. An acting troupe called the Commedia dell’Arte had been gathering rave reviews across the continent, and the players had decided to travel to Florence to learn from them first-hand. They had space to spare in their two rickety wagons.
It took three and half days to cross the Alps and traverse the plateau of northern Italy, but it was as fascinating and diverting a time as Jake had ever had. The players were an enthralling group of people, each playing a part: the world-weary king, the principled princess, the honourable soldier, the femme fatale, the pantomime villain and the fool. They rehearsed, debated, sang, danced, cried, and generally squeezed every atom of passion from even the dullest moments.
To everyone’s bemused delight, the beautiful young ingénue of the troupe, Liliana, took a shine to Paolo. She was half a foot taller than him and two years his senior, but this did not stop her from blushing every time he so much as looked in her direction. Alan suggested that Paolo was ‘emitting pheromones’ following his heroics on top of Cologne Cathedral. By the time they arrived at Venice, and had to go their separate ways, the poor young actress was completely smitten. She insisted on keeping a lock of Paolo’s hair, which he gave her with poorly concealed reluctance.
The Djones family, Paolo and Felson made their way across the Venetian causeway and staggered, exhausted, into the bustling city. Though their heart was not in it, they passed some time window-shopping before the hour came to make their way to the Rialto and the agreed rendezvous with the others.
They ascended the steps of the ancient bridge in silence. As they reached the apex, all the bells of the city started to toll midday. If Nathan and Charlie had survived their mission, they would surely have already arrived in Venice. By 12.15 they had still not made an appearance.
‘They must have been successful,’ mused Alan, ‘as everyone is still alive.’ He swept his hand across the bustling crowds of people. ‘So where are they?’
‘You’re splashing my silk organza!’ boomed a voice below them. ‘Venetian canal water is notoriously difficult to remove.’
The Djoneses stared at each other in delight. They rushed over to the parapet – to find Charlie Chieverley, Mr Drake proudly perched on his shoulder, steering a golden gondola. The boat was elaborately carved with the figure of Neptune, along with adoring water nymphs and sea monsters, and there, on its velvet cushions, reclined Nathan, eating figs.
‘Ahoy there!’ He waved graciously at the four people leaning over the bridge. ‘Missions accomplished. Three cheers for all of us. We’ll dock over there at that taverna. We’ve booked a table for lunch. The ravioli is the best in the city, and the views of the Grand Canal are second to none.’
The six intrepid agents of the History Keepers’ Secret Service had a sumptuous and noisy lunch in the sun-dappled taverna. (Once, that is, Mr Drake had made his peace with Felson.) They ate delicious pasta and swapped stories of their death-defying missions, with everyone at some point receiving at least one round of applause. Paolo, in particular, felt a warm glow inside at his new-found fame.
Nathan and Charlie also told the others what they’d done since intercepting the deadly books. They had carefully removed the miniature capsules of plague from each edition. Knowing they would have to take them to Point Zero for analysis and destruction, they had secured them for transportation.
After arriving in Venice, they had returned to the Campana and moved it, along with the Mystère, to a quiet quay beyond the Arsenale. They had visited the Venetian bureau and collected the spare Meslith machine, from which they had updated Point Zero on events so far. Finally they had freed all the kidnapped architects, who had been deserted by Zeldt’s guards – they, it transpired, had fled the city.
After pudding they strolled along the busy network of canals until they arrived at the shadowy quayside where the History Keepers’ ships were moored.
Nathan produced a map, whereupon there was a good deal of heated debate on the subject of which would be the best horizon point to head for. In the end Nathan reluctantly took Alan’s advice and chose one due east of Ravenna. From this point they would be able to leap all the way to La Rochelle, cutting their journey time down considerably. As this route required a high level of atomium, it was also decided that Jake would travel with Nathan and Charlie, to make full use of their vigorously young valours.
The vials of plague were entrusted to Miriam, and everyone said their goodbyes to Paolo, who was returning to his aunt’s house.
‘So, will you stay with the History Keepers?’ Jake asked him tentatively.
‘Mmm … good question.’ Paolo thought for a moment. ‘Well, apart from being captured, chained up, tortured, locked in a cell with Nathan Wylder and forced to endure his sense of humour, thrown into a snake pit, savaged by black mambas and ordered to dangle from the highest building in the world … apart from all that’ – a cheeky smile lit up his face – ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’
Jake and Paolo laughed out loud and gave each other a long and heartfelt hug.
Amidst much bellowing from Nathan, the ships set sail in tandem. Charlie sent Galliana a long Meslith message, informing her that they were on their way back, listing all the new developments and confirming that Topaz would not be with them as she had accompanied Zeldt to another, unknown part of history.
Within the hour, the ships were traversing the bright Adriatic. Jake watched his parents on the deck of the Mystère; laughing, arm in arm, the wind in their hair, they seemed a million miles away from the shambolic bathroom shop in south-east London.
Just after he had taken his sickening dose of atomium, Jake had finally plucked up the courage to approach Charlie at the helm and ask him, confidentially, about Topaz’s history. He felt that Charlie would give him a straight answer.
‘Of course, we’ve all known, ever since we were young, but it’s rarely mentioned,’ Charlie told him, his hands firm on the steering wheel.
‘And who are her actual parents?’ Jake was almost too frightened to ask.
‘Her mother I have talked about – Agata, she is called. She is Zeldt’s sister.’
‘That’s the one who tried to drown Zeldt in the freezing lake when he was a boy, and who burned her maid?’ asked Jake.
‘I’m afraid so,’ murmured Charlie.
Jake heaved a sigh. ‘And does Topaz look like her mother?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Just tell me.’
It was Charlie’s turn to sigh. ‘I’ve never met her. Apparently there are some physical similarities. But their personalities are galaxies apart.’
‘And her father? Who is he?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘No one knows, not even Topaz.’
Soon enough they reached the horizon point, and Nathan and Charlie flanked Jake closely as the Constantor aligned. Jake had assumed that he would have got used to the experience
by now, but his tiredness seemed to make the effect more shocking and nauseating than ever. This time he closed his eyes as his alter ego shot up into the stratosphere. A second later, one after the other, the ships vanished from the seas of the sixteenth century.
Arriving back in 1820, they were met by dismal, driving rain. Mr Drake was appalled. He squawked and immediately flew below decks. The rain pelted down ceaselessly all afternoon, until they finally spied the distinctive conical silhouette of the Mont St Michel.
It was Rose who first spotted the two ships approaching across the rain-tossed sea. She ran about the castle, knocking on doors and telling everyone the exciting news. Only Oceane Noire, who was nursing ‘a migraine from hell’, failed to be sufficiently interested.
Gradually everyone assembled on the pier with their umbrellas: Galliana Goethe, Jupitus Cole, Signor Gondolfino, the costumier, and Truman and Betty Wylder – Nathan’s parents, and Topaz’s guardians. Before Topaz’s departure from Point Zero days before, Truman and Betty had been informed of the mission their adopted daughter had been entrusted with. Now they knew that she would definitely not be returning. They’d come to offer their support, but hung back in the shadows, Betty dabbing her tears with a silk handkerchief.
The ships docked side by side, and there was a spontaneous round of applause as the agents emerged down the gangplanks. A great cheer went up for Alan and Miriam, and a greater one still for Jake, who was the last to step ashore.
‘Welcome home, the Djones family!’ Signor Gondolfino shouted at the top of his voice.
‘Here, here!’ everyone shouted in unison.
Miriam carefully handed Galliana the package containing the vials of plague. Nathan waited for everyone to settle down before delivering his ‘impromptu’ speech:
‘We return victorious. All our agents played their parts magnificently. Disaster in Italy has been averted.’ He held his arms aloft and proclaimed, ‘The Renaissance remains intact.’ Then he shook his mane of auburn hair, momentarily closed his eyes and adopted a more serious tone. ‘However, in this moment of celebration, let us stop to remember Topaz St Honoré, who has bravely gone on to missions new.’
‘Topaz St Honoré!’ everyone murmured together.
Jupitus, who had been keeping very quiet, cleared his throat and said, ‘Fruit cocktails and champagne will be served in the stateroom in one hour. I urge you all to attend as I have an announcement to make.’
Speeches over, Rose rushed across to her brother and sister-in-law, nearly squeezing the life out of them. ‘That’s the last time you go off on a mission without telling me,’ she chided Alan. ‘You’re still my younger brother, remember?’
Galliana put her arm round a shell-shocked Jake. ‘I’ve heard all about your bravery. Charlie says you are a keeper through and through. We’re very proud of you.’
Jake smiled, but the commander could sense that he was overcome with emotion. She pulled him closer. ‘I know, I know,’ she whispered kindly. ‘It can be magical beyond belief, but history can also be a very daunting place.’
When Jake arrived with his parents, the stateroom was humming with the chit-chat of all the History Keepers. The three of them had put on new clothes: Miriam her favourite dress from home in London, Alan his old corduroy trousers, both produced from the red suitcase. Jake wore new clothes of the 1820s: smart breeches, a buttoned waistcoat, a white shirt and a cravat tied in a bow. With his dark hair and big brown eyes, he looked every inch the romantic hero.
The room was lit with clusters of twinkling candles and decorated with fresh flowers. Through its four enormous windows, dusk was encroaching across the stormy vastness of the ocean.
Jupitus was filling champagne flutes. When he was satisfied that everyone was present, he silenced the excited buzz by tapping a spoon on his glass.
‘I am a man of few words,’ he announced, ‘so I will keep this brief. I have happy news’ – though there was not the vestige of a smile on his face – ‘Oceane Noire and I are engaged to be married.’
A bewildered silence was succeeded by a slightly puzzled round of applause. Oceane, touching up her hair with her forefinger, stepped through the crowd and took her place next to Jupitus.
Rose did not clap; she was too stunned to even close her mouth. ‘Good gracious,’ she murmured as she pretended to search for something in her carpetbag. Jupitus flashed a glance at her. Only Rose and Galliana knew anything of his secret feelings, and neither was observing him now; so no one caught that look of profound wretchedness.
The news of Oceane and Jupitus’s engagement washed over Jake; his thoughts were on weightier matters. His parents had been lost in history. Through dogged perseverance and sheer luck he had found them … but now he had lost Topaz. Haunting thoughts of her barged their way to the forefront of his mind. However much praise he received from Galliana and the other History Keepers, he knew he had failed in the mission he had set himself: to save her. He was tormented by the thought that he might never see her again. The world on its own was gigantic enough, but history, he now truly understood, was vast beyond all imagining – as infinite and complex as the universe itself, and filled with unimaginable darkness.
Jake breathed deeply to calm himself down. He wandered over to one of the huge windows and surveyed the wide horizon. Felson, who was waiting timidly by the door, padded over and stood by his side. The dog stared up at his new master, and then he too looked out to sea. Far, far off in the distance, a pulse of lightning illuminated a circle of ocean. Jake remembered how this whole adventure had started: a thunderstorm had heralded his entrance into this strange and thrilling universe. Almost every perception he had of the world had changed unalterably since then. Glory, duty, love and fear were now the entities that ruled his life.
He was a History Keeper.
There was no going back.
He made a solemn promise, whispering the words to himself, steaming up the window with a sigh of condensation.
‘I will find you, Topaz. Wherever you are. In whatever place or time. If it is the last thing I do … I will find you …’
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FIRSTLY, THANKS TO all the singular ladies … Becky Stradwick, for really getting the ball rolling, and everything she’s done since. Jo Unwin for her wisdom and character. Sue Cook for her immeasurable mind; and Rachel Holroyd and Sophie Dolan for all their great work and many laughs.
The book would not have been written without the help of the marvellous Morrisons, Ali Lowry, Richard Batty and all my noble friends who generously steered me from destitution!
A special thanks to Dick for picking me up from school, Dudley for always keeping an eye, to Rufo and to Justin, and finally my Mum for teaching me that humour is everything!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Damian has worked extensively as a screenwriter on projects as diverse as Phantom Of The Opera and Puss In Boots. He is a keen explorer, inspired by everything from archaeology to cosmology, and loves nothing more than a rollicking adventure story. He is a proud Londoner and lives on the South Bank with his dog Dudley. This is his first novel.
THE HISTORY KEEPERS: THE STORM BEGINS
AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 45311 7
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Copyright © Damian Dibben 2011
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