by John Moralee
Her mouth fell open in surprise.
It looked like she was just stepped into an exotic rainforest, not a greenhouse in Hobley. Some giant palm fronds the colour of a rainbow fanned the entrance. They were beautiful, emitting a rich perfume, like nothing she’d seen or smelled before, but they were nothing compared with the trees and flowers in front of her. One tree near the middle of the greenhouse had a trunk as wide as a car. Its branches reached as high as the roof. She could see birds and insects in the foliage. The noise they were making was incredible, a beautiful din.
To her left, a small waterfall plunged into a rocky pool containing several brightly coloured fish. A stone bridge crossed over the pool leading to a white gazebo, where she saw her best friend standing. The girl was beside him. She was wearing khaki shorts and a Safari jacket. Her knees and hands were dirty, but she could see no restraints on her arms or legs.
She didn’t look like a prisoner.
She looked like she had been gardening.
“Ryan, what’s going on?” Saffron called out. “Why are you just standing there?”
Ryan was about to answer when he looked over her shoulder, his face suddenly showing alarm.
“Watch out!” he warned. “He’s behind you!”
She turned around just in time to see Ravencroft bursting into the greenhouse. He was holding his cane in both hands. He saw her and snarled like a wild animal. He pulled at the cane, slipping off a sheath, revealing the cane doubled as a rapier. The sword’s deadly bladed swished in the air as he advanced on her. The rage in his eyes was intense. He wanted to kill her, running her through with his sword.
As she tried to get away, Saffron fell backwards onto her hands. She scrambled away as fast as she could, but she couldn’t get away fast enough. Ravencroft drew his arm back to deliver a killing thrust aimed at her heart.
In the corner of her eye, Saffron saw Ryan and the dark-haired girl rushing across the bridge. The girl yelled something. It was in clear English.
“Grandfather, don’t!”
Chapter Twelve
Just five minutes earlier, Ryan had been stunned silent into silence by the botanical wonders in the greenhouse. As he walked forward, his eyes and brain absorbing the beauty and strangeness, the vivid colours, the intoxicating smells, the melodious birdsong, the wild chattering of insects, he didn’t know what to think. This place was even weirder than the cellar. He felt as though he had woken from a nightmare only to find himself in a fantastic dream. Heaven could not have been more stunning.
He followed a path that took him across a bridge over a pond filled with exotic fish. There was a gazebo ahead. He walked into it and saw another path leading out of the other side towards the heart of the rainforest. Through an opening in between some lush trees, a flower garden was bathed in shafts of pink-white sunlight.
And there she was in the clearing – the girl! - on her knees in the rich, dark soil of a flowerbed, her back to him, her dark hair tied in a ponytail. Since he had half expected her to be chained to a dungeon wall - like a princess in a fairy tale, screaming for his help - the sight of on her own, apparently free, confused Ryan. It was a serious anti-climax, breaking his confidence, making him question why he was there. He stopped about ten feet away, feeling more like an intruder than a rescuer.
What was she doing?
She was digging a small hole with a trowel, apparently happily chatting to herself because there was no one else around. She had clearly not heard him for the sounds of the microcosm of life living inside the greenhouse. Ryan could see an unusual flower-bulb in her other hand, which she was holding like a precious egg. The creamy white bulb had long roots as fine as gossamer. It was shaped like a tear drop, but it was the size of an apple. She was talking to the bulb as she carefully planted it in the hole and tucked soil around it. She was treating the flower-bulb as though it was a baby able to understand her soothing voice.
He cleared his throat to announce his presence. “Hello – again.”
She jumped to her feet and spun around, holding the trowel like a weapon.
“How’d you get in?” she said, not very happy to see him.
As Ryan saw his Mona Lisa clearly for the first time in natural sunlight, he realised his previous comparison to the famous painting seemed like a gross insult. The girl was far too lovely for her beauty to be captured in any painting. Any portrait would be a mere caricature of her exquisite face. He could have stared at her all day, studying the dark line of her eyebrows, the greenness of her eyes, the delicate curve of her cheekbones. He felt a huge silly grin on his face. He practically forgot why he was there, but her unhappy face reminded him. She asked him again how he had got in, her eyes darting around for signs of danger.
“I climbed over the wall. For about an hour, I’ve been searching the house looking for you. I had no idea you were in here gardening. I could have saved myself some time. Come on – let’s get out of here before Ravencroft returns.”
He offered her his hand, hoping it would encourage her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. She recoiled from him.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Okay,” he said, lowering his arm, “but we have to get out of here.”
“Why would I want to do that?” she said.
Why? Wasn’t it obvious? He wondered if she had been a prisoner for so long that she had become used to it – institutionalised – unable to even consider escaping. He answered her question by talking slowly in what he hoped was a calming voice, like he was talking to a small child, or his own mother when she was upset.
“Because,” he said, “I’m here to rescue you.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “I’m not a prisoner.”
“You’re not?”
“No!”
“Then what -”
“I’m hiding,” she said.
“Hiding from what?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “One you’re better off not knowing - for your own good. All you need to know is I’m quite happy living here. This is my home.”
Now he didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t understand how you could come back,” she said. “You were conditioned to stay away from here. How ... how did you break the conditioning?”
“Conditioning? You mean the brainwashing?”
She nodded. “I suppose you could call it that. Well – how did you break it?”
“It wasn’t easy, but I had the help of my friend Saffron.” He summarised what Saffron had done to make him remember. “Look, how do I know you haven’t been brainwashed by Ravencroft into believing you’re not a prisoner?”
“He wouldn’t brainwash me. He loves me. My name’s Mira Ravencroft. I’m his only granddaughter.”
“Ravencroft is your grandfather?”
“Yes. He looks after me, protects me from danger. I don’t need rescuing, believe me. If anyone needs rescuing, it’s you if my grandfather finds out you’re here again for the third time. This time - because you’ve shown you can break the conditioning - he won’t just wipe your memory. He’ll kill you.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Just believe me. He will kill you to protect me.” A tear formed in her right eye. “I tried to warn you last time.”
Ryan frowned. “Look, I don’t understand. Will you please tell me what is going on? Tell me the long story – or even a short version.”
“There isn’t time. You should leave before he comes back. I’m begging you. Go home and forget about me! Don’t say anything about me to anyone. Look – if you give me your email address, I promise to contact to you later, explaining everything.”
He was surprised. “You have a computer?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll contact you later, but right now you can’t be here. Go!”
“No,” he said. “First, you must tell me something.”
“What?” she said, exasperated. “What?”
“If you’re not a prisoner, why is
he keeping you locked up?”
She sighed. “I’ll explain - if you promise me you’ll leave before he comes back. I mean it. You must go.”
“Okay,” he said. “I promise.”
Mira dropped her trowel and asked him to follow her. She sat down in the gazebo, offering him the seat opposite. Then she began explaining things as quickly as she could.
“My grandfather is very protective of me because there are some nasty people out there who would want to hurt me. They are called The Brotherhood of Ascension.”
“The Brotherhood of Ascension? Who are they?”
“Don’t interrupt - just listen,” she said testily. “My grandfather stole something from them that is very valuable. A special unique creature.”
“That thing in the cellar?”
“Yes. The Brotherhood are searching for it – and us – which is why we have to hide. Nobody can know we are living here in Hobley. That’s top secret.”
She paused to take breath and to check the time on her wristwatch. Then she continued, telling how she had been studying in her room the day he lost his ball over their wall.
“Because of the danger to us, I’m supposed to hide whenever someone comes to the house, but that day I dared look out anyway. I was curious because hardly anyone comes to the house except the postman. When I saw you and your friend at the gates, I started feeling sad and lonely because I don’t have any friends my own age. I’ve lived here alone with my grandfather since I was a baby. He teaches me everything I need to know so I don’t have to go to a school. He doesn’t believe it is safe for me to have friends in case they found out about our secret. That’s why I started crying. Later that day - when you came back with your sister – my grandfather told me to hide in my room in case you were agents of the Brotherhood. When you sneaked upstairs to my room, I initially thought you were an agent coming to hurt me, so I locked my door and hid from you. Unfortunately, you caught me peeking. By then, my grandfather had already wiped your sister’s memory because she had become suspicious. He erased your memory too because he wanted to keep you from saying anything about us. I’m sorry he did that. I wanted to have the chance to explain things to you properly – so you would understand the situation - but my grandfather decided it was better to make you forget everything. So, you see, it was all a misunderstanding. I’m not a prisoner at all.”
“Really?” he said sceptically. “You can’t go out. You can’t have friends. You say you’re not a prisoner, but it sounds like you are to me.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m free to do what I like.”
“Except go outside,” he said. “And have friends.”
Mira didn’t reply.
“Just one more question – then I’ll go. How exactly did your grandfather brainwash me?”
Mira opened her mouth to answer, but her eyes suddenly darted to the entrance. “Did you hear that?”
Yes, Ryan had heard it. It was distant ... but definitely Saffron’s voice. He was startled to hear her. “It’s my friend. Hold on – I’ll get her. She probably raced back here when my phone stopped working.”
He ran over the bridge to the entrance. Opening the door, he saw Saffron was looking into the house. He wondered what she was doing here. Why wasn’t she following Ravencroft? He called out to her. “OVER HERE!”
She heard him.
As she was turning around, he looked back and noticed Mira had not moved from the gazebo. She looked scared. He beckoned Saffron to come in, then he ran back to Mira. “Don’t worry, it’s only Saffron. You can trust her. She’s my best friend. You’ll like her.”
Saffron had entered the greenhouse. He waved to her, but she didn’t see him. Her eyes were probably adjusting to the incredible light. Seconds later, she noticed where he was.
“Ryan, what’s going on?” she called out. “Why are you just standing there?”
Ryan was about to answer when he saw Mira’s grandfather suddenly appeared in the doorway right behind her.
“Watch out!” he warned. “He’s behind you!”
With horror, Ryan realised Ravencroft’s cane was also a sword. As he drew it and advanced on Saffron, Ryan ran like a mad man over the bridge, with Mira close behind him. He could see Saffron was struggling to get away from Ravencroft. She fell down. In a second, Ryan could see, Ravencroft’s sword would plunge into her. And he could see he wasn’t going to reach her in time to help.
“Grandfather, don’t!” Mira shouted.
Though Ravencroft looked like he was going to ignore her plea, he stopped himself at the very last moment. He didn’t plunge his sword into Saffron’s chest, but he didn’t put it away either. Instead, he towered over her, pointing the tip of the weapon at Saffron’s throat.
“Don’t move an inch,” he warned her.
Ryan saw Saffron had no plans for doing that. She stayed perfectly still. Mira’s words had saved her life – for now. It was only a temporary reprieve, though. Ravencroft kept his sword at her throat, while he looked over at Ryan. “You – boy –step away from my granddaughter or I will kill your friend here.”
“Okay, okay – don’t hurt her. Take it easy.” Ryan moved away slowly, showing his hands were empty. “We mean you no harm, sir.”
Ravencroft looked at his granddaughter. “Did he harm you, Mira?”
“No, no,” she said. “They’re not here to hurt me. They don’t work for the Brotherhood. They’re just ordinary children.”
“Ordinary children do not break into houses. Explain yourself, child.”
Ryan resented the way Ravencroft was talking to him, but he steadied his anger. “Sir, we came here to rescue your granddaughter because we thought she was being held as your prisoner. We didn’t know you were protecting her from the Brotherhood, whoever they are.”
“Lies!” Ravencroft hissed.
“It’s the truth,” Mira said. “The boy’s told me what he did. He’s also explained why he did it. He and his friend honestly thought you were keeping me as a prisoner. Grandfather, please stop pointing that sword at her. They’re not our enemies. They could even be our friends - if you gave them a chance to explain things.”
“Mira, my dear, I can’t simply let them go. They’ve seen too much. Getting rid of them would ensure your safety. I swore to protect you from danger, even if I have to kill to do it.”
“You can’t kill them. You can’t. Then you’d be like them.”
Her words had an effect on him. He lowered the sword to his side. Sighing, he stepped backwards, allowing Ryan to help Saffron to stand up. Saffron winced when Ryan grabbed her hand. It was bleeding.
“Your hand’s cut,” Ryan said. “Did he do that with the sword?”
“No. It was all me. I landed on it when I came over the wall. Also hurt my ankle a bit.”
“I ought to kill them for trespassing and vandalism,” Ryan heard Ravencroft saying to his granddaughter as they moved away a few paces to talk among themselves. They switched to another language. It looked like a heated debate. Ravencroft kept shaking his head, no, no, no. He didn’t take his eyes off Ryan and Saffron. Ryan had no idea whether Mira or her grandfather was winning the argument. He could see Mira was crying. Now she was shaking her head.
“What’s he going to do with us?” Saffron whispered.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
Chapter Thirteen
An hour later Ryan could hardly believe he and Saffron were sitting on a big leather couch in Ravencroft’s drawing room, drinking cups of Earl Grey.
Mira had served the tea on a silver tray, also including an assortment of biscuits, telling them she had really, really enjoyed the delicious chocolate muffins, making sure her grandfather heard every word of praise. While they had been trying to explain things to her grandfather, she had washed and changed out of her dirty gardening clothes into a summery cotton dress. Ryan thought she looked gorgeous, a fact he had not mentioned to Saffron. Now she was now standing at the fireplace talking to her grandfather in
their infuriatingly strange language.
Ravencroft had his back to them as he stoked the flames with a poker. Ryan and Saffron had just finished talking after describing everything they had done in the past three days, including looking him up on the internet and following him to the train station. They were nervously waiting for Ravencroft’s judgement on their fate. Ryan looked at Ravencroft’s back thinking it was their first opportunity of escape, but if they tried and failed Ravencroft would definitely not let them go.
“Ironic,” Saffron muttered in a low voice. She was flexing her cut hand, which she’d cleaned in the bathroom. Mira had got her some antiseptic ointment to apply on the wound, which glistened on her skin like varnish.
“What’s ironic?” he whispered back.
“She wasn’t a prisoner, but now we are.”
Yeah, it was ironic. But it wasn’t funny.
Ravencroft put down the poker and picked up his own drink. He wasn’t drinking tea. His drink was a glass of malt whisky. He sipped it while staring into the fire. He gritted teeth as though he hated the taste, but he swallowed it anyway. The dark liquid reflected the ruddy glow of the fire.
“Ryan?” Saffron whispered.
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you really believe he’s her grandfather?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t he look a little too young?”
Ryan had been wondering that. Ravencroft’s old-fashioned clothes did seem to add years to his age, but if he just considered the man’s face, then it was a different matter entirely. Ravencroft didn’t look anything like Ryan’s grandfathers, who were both grey-haired and truly looked their ages, 72 and 79. Ryan could see none of the tell-tale signs of ageing on Ravencroft’s face. He had no crow’s feet, no liver spots, no broken blood vessels on his nose, no yellowing teeth, no bags under his eyes. His skin was smooth and youthful, like the male models in shaving adverts. In his opinion, the man could have been any age from 25 to 40.