The pigeon above them fluttered in its nest again, sending down a shower of feathers and dried droppings.
Then there was a creaking. And a noise Gerald hadn’t heard since he’d last played tug of war at school: a long stretching noise, a rope under strain.
The bell started to move. Slowly at first, back and forth. But it soon built into a full-blooded swing.
‘Look out, Sam!’ Ruby yelled.
Sam was still standing by the window and seventeen tonnes of bronze bell was about to swing straight at him. He ducked just as the rim shot over his head. The massive clapper missed him by inches before it struck the side of the bell and emitted a colossal tone.
Sam threw himself to the floor. He rolled across the boards just as the bell started on its return path. The front rim caught him under the ribs and lifted him into the air. There was another resounding toll as Sam flew into Gerald and Felicity, knocking them to the ground like bowling pins.
The sound of the bell was deafening.
And, locked in the cage, they had no escape.
Gerald scrambled to his knees. He pressed his hands to his ears trying to smother the noise.
But it made no difference.
The bell assailed the tower with a fusillade of sound.
Every strike was like a blow to the head, the reverberations echoing inside the skull. Gerald screwed his eyes tight and rolled back and forward with each pounding blow, mimicking the movement of the enormous instrument of torture. Ruby, Sam and Felicity had their hands over their ears. They curled into balls on the floor.
Gerald knew he had to do something. Much more of this and his eardrums were likely to rupture.
Again and again the percussion pounded his head. The vibrations juddered his teeth and his bones.
He sat there, hands clamped over his ears, wishing the noise away.
Chapter 23
It was too much.
Gerald toppled onto his side.
A pain shot into his left thigh—sharp enough to cut through the incessant ringing. He had rolled onto Brahe’s silver nose that he had stuffed in his pocket.
Then Gerald’s eyes flashed open.
The nose.
Still with his hands clamped over his ears, he turned onto his back and looked up at the bell.
It hung on a crossbar on a wooden frame, suspended from iron scaffolding. Gerald tried to focus, tried to block out the noise. Then his eyes lit on a chance. He just had to get up there.
He pulled a tissue from his pocket and tore it in two. He wadded each bit up and drove them into his ears with his thumbs. The bell’s toll still pounded into his brain but it would have to do.
The giant clapper was the size of a tree trunk. It extended beyond the lip of the bell and swung with enormous force. At its lowest point it cleared the floorboards by bare centimetres. To climb up the scaffolding, Gerald had to get to the far side of the room. That meant getting past the bell and the clapper.
He crouched to his haunches, like he was about to start a sprint. His eyes traced the bell’s path as it rose and fell.
Easy now.
Get the timing right.
Go!
Gerald shot out of the blocks. He dived under the swinging edge of the bell, sliding across the floor on his belly. But he mistimed the swing of the clapper. It clipped him on the ankle as he was almost clear, and sent him spinning across the boards like a fallen ice skater. He slammed into the table on the far wall, splintering its legs and sending sheets of paper flying in the air. The lump of coal that had been serving as a paperweight bounced off his head.
Gerald gathered himself and studied the scaffolding looming above him. He took hold of the lowest bar. The iron was slippery with the cold and it shook with each swing of the bell. He clambered up, hand over hand, struggling to hold on as the bell’s shockwaves rode through him. The sound seemed to reach an entirely new level the closer he got to the top. Gerald could feel his eyeballs vibrating in their sockets.
To and fro, to and fro, the bell swept past him. His hands cramped in the cold, but finally Gerald reached the top of the scaffold. He folded an arm around the upper beam and clung on. His eyes darted about the wooden frame that supported the bell, searching for an opening, a point of weakness. Then he spotted it. Where the frame reached its upper point on the backswing. A notch in the woodwork. If he could wedge Brahe’s silver nose in there, it could jam the mechanism. Maybe still the bell.
Gerald screwed his eyes shut and opened them again. His vision was blurring. The noise was just so intense. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the lump of silver. He had one shot at this. The timing had to be perfect. If he got it wrong, the bell would crush his fingers to mush.
He reached out his right arm.
His hand shook. He fought to control it.
The bell tolled.
Again.
And again.
This time.
No. This time.
Gerald extended his arm.
And he dropped the silver nose.
His mouth shot open in a silent cry of despair. He watched, horrified, as the lump of metal tumbled from his grasp. It bounced among the limbs of iron like a pinball bound for the drain. It pinged off the lowest arm of scaffolding and bounced into the air.
Then, to Gerald’s amazement, the nose landed right into the notch that he’d been aiming for! Jammed in tight, as if driven by a hammer. It was a one in a million chance—all the planets must have been in alignment. He watched with wide eyes as the wooden frame supporting the bell swung back. The mechanism hit the metal lump. And squashed it flat.
The bell didn’t miss a beat. Seventeen tonnes of bronze swung on, clanging out the last ounce of Gerald’s will to live.
Gerald slumped against the top of the scaffold. He was spent. He strained to open his eyes and looked down to the floor below. He wondered whether it would really hurt that much if he jumped. At least the ringing would stop.
Then Gerald noticed something. He shook his head to clear the clamour in his brain.
The ringing had stopped.
He looked across to the bell and saw with astonishment that it was slowing; the clapper was no longer striking the rim. The mechanism was winding down.
Stunned, Gerald again looked down to the floor, to see Felicity smiling back at him, a pocketknife in one hand, and a cut bell rope in the other.
Gerald clambered down the scaffold to be met by Felicity’s embrace.
She pulled back, holding him by the shoulders, and started talking. But Gerald couldn’t make out anything she was saying. He realised he still had tissue stuffed in his ears. He plucked out the wads of paper.
‘—you all right?’
Gerald stuck his little finger in his ear and wiggled. ‘A bit deaf,’ he said, through a lingering peal of bells. ‘But in better shape than Brahe’s nose.’
He picked up the bell rope and inspected the severed end. ‘I guess that was a better idea than mine.’
Felicity grinned. ‘The Colonel’s pretty big on the whole “be prepared” thing actually,’ she said. She held up the pocketknife. ‘This was a birthday present. Nifty.’
There was a call from near the door. Ruby had gathered herself from the floor and was studying a placard on the wall. ‘Look at this,’ she said. Sam picked himself up and staggered over, still rubbing his ears.
‘What is it?’
Ruby pointed to the words on the placard, in Czech and translated into English.
‘The bells of St Vitus Cathedral date from the mid- sixteenth century,’ she read out loud. ‘This is the largest of them. Weighing 17 tonnes and 2.6 metres in diameter, Zikmund was struck in 1549.’
‘Zikmund?’ Gerald said. ‘The bell is Zikmund?’
‘Yes,’ Ruby said,
her eyes lighting with realisation. ‘All large bells have nicknames. Like Big Ben in London.’
‘I thought that was the name of the building,’ Gerald said.
‘No. Big Ben is the bell inside the clock tower at the Houses of Parliament. Maybe the Zikmund that Brahe was looking for wasn’t a person. It was this bell.’
Gerald looked back to the massive bronze instrument. It hung straight down, its enormous clapper stilled and silent.
‘So the other two people Brahe and Pugly were talking about—Vaclav and Jan, was it?—what’s the bet they’re the two bells we passed on the way up,’ he said.
‘What would Brahe want with some four-hundred- and-sixty-year-old bells?’ Ruby said. ‘It’s not like he’s going to steal them and melt them down for spare change.’
Sam wandered across to the long clapper. He dropped to his knees and gave it a shove. It swung up and kissed the rim. Even the lightest touch set off a humming ring.
‘Please don’t,’ Ruby said. ‘You might find this hard to believe, but I have a headache.’
Sam stood up. ‘Hey,’ his voice chimed out from inside. ‘There are some engravings and stuff in here.’
Gerald and Ruby looked at each other, then made a dive for the bell. Felicity shuffled in with them.
Sam pointed to an array of swirling lines, and a jumble of letters spread across the pattern like alphabet soup: P R H A H R B R.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Sam asked.
Felicity ran her fingertips across the engraving. She pursed her lips. ‘This reminds me of something.’
A faint breeze blew through the arched window, fluttering the sheets of paper that were now spread across the floor. A sheet wafted in under the bell and brushed against Felicity’s leg. She bent down to scoop it up.
‘Gerald, wasn’t there a piece of charcoal or something on top of that pile of paper?’
Gerald nodded, rubbing his head where the black lump had hit him.
‘Could you fetch it for me?’ Felicity asked. Gerald ducked out from under the bell to search for the lump of coal.
‘How did you manage to train him so well?’ Ruby asked.
Felicity gave a shy grin. ‘Boys are like puppies,’ she said. ‘Tickle them under the chin and you’ve got a friend for life.’
‘Hey!’ said Sam. ‘I’m a boy.’
‘And a very good boy at that,’ Felicity said, flicking him under the jaw with her finger. He blushed.
Ruby looked on in awe. ‘It’s that simple?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Felicity said. ‘It’s that simple.’
Gerald crawled back in with them and handed Felicity the charcoal. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thank you, Gerald,’ she said, smiling sweetly. ‘Now, hold the paper up against the side of the bell just there.’
Gerald laid the sheet flat across the tangle of lines and letters.
‘What are you doing, Felicity?’ Ruby asked.
‘Brass rubbing,’ Felicity said. ‘The Colonel used to take me to old churchyards in the Lake District. We’d spend the day doing rubbings of brass plaques. It’s fun. See?’
Felicity scraped the charcoal across the paper and an impression of part of the engraving appeared. ‘I won’t go too hard,’ Felicity said, concentrating on the task, lines and letters transferring to the sheet with each stroke. ‘I’m guessing that the other two bells have similar markings on them. If we use the same piece of paper I bet we can build up an answer to this riddle.’
‘Like a 3-D jigsaw puzzle,’ Ruby said.
‘That’s genius,’ Sam said.
Felicity smiled. ‘Why, thank you.’
Sam blushed again.
They crawled back into the bell room and Felicity held out the paper for everyone to see.
‘It’s still just a jumble,’ Sam said.
Felicity carefully rolled up the sheet. ‘Let’s see how it looks once we’ve spoken to Jan and Vaclav,’ she said.
Gerald rattled the cage door. He reached through the bars but couldn’t get to the bolt. ‘Can I have your pocketknife, Felicity?’
Felicity held it out but snatched it back just as Gerald was about to take it. ‘What’s the magic word?’
Gerald arched an eyebrow. ‘Please?’
Felicity put the knife into Gerald’s palm. ‘There’s a good boy.’ She gave Ruby a wink. Ruby just shook her head.
Gerald pulled out a short blade and dropped to his knees. He pressed the edge of the blade against the door hinge and jemmied out the pin. A minute later he repeated the trick on the top hinge and they were able to wrench the door open.
Gerald led the scamper down the worn stone steps.
The door to the cage around the second bell stood open. Ruby pointed to a placard on the wall.
‘This one’s called Jan,’ she said, excitement bubbling in her voice.
Sam kept watch as Felicity and Gerald disappeared inside the bell. They crawled out a minute later.
‘What’s it look like?’ Sam asked.
Felicity showed him the paper. More twisting lines intersected across the page, joining up with those from Zikmund. And there were more letters: A D A N B I T A H.
‘What do you think?’ Ruby asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Gerald said, studying the image. ‘It could be part of someone’s face maybe.’
Sam looked over Gerald’s shoulder. ‘World’s ugliest human if it is.’
Felicity rolled up the paper again. ‘Come on. Only Vaclav to go.’
They emerged from the shadows of the stairwell to find the final bell cage open, the door hanging askew from its top hinge. Gerald stopped at the entry, and Sam, Felicity and Ruby piled into the back of him.
‘What’s the problem?’ Sam said.
Gerald spun around to face them. He took a deep breath. ‘What are we doing?’ he said. ‘Brahe just tried to kill us. He’s probably still nearby. Maybe we should take the hint and ease off a bit.’
‘What are you saying, Gerald?’ Ruby asked. ‘That we should go home and wait quietly by the phone to see whether our parents are all right?’
Gerald lowered his eyes to his boots and frowned.
Ruby’s jaw dropped open. ‘What happened to all your bluster about not being patient? Not waiting for the police or the FBI to get their game together?’ She shoved Gerald’s shoulder. ‘I don’t believe you. You drag us out here, put us through the seven rings of hell and now you bottle it?’ She shoved Gerald again, this time knocking him clear of the doorway. ‘Well if you want to go home and cry into your pillow, go right ahead. But I’ve had it with waiting. Come on, Flicka. Let’s see what Vaclav has to say.’
Ruby stormed into the cage, leaving Gerald blinking after her. She and Felicity crawled in under the bell.
‘What was that all about?’ Felicity asked, rubbing the charcoal against the sheet of paper.
‘You train him your way,’ Ruby said. ‘I’ll train him mine.’
Ruby helped Felicity out from under the bell. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got,’ Felicity said. She laid the sheet of paper flat on the floorboards.
‘Oh my,’ Ruby said. ‘Is that a map?’
The three layers of lines, swirls and letters had married together to form a rough chart.
‘Look,’ Gerald said, elbowing Ruby in the ribs. ‘The letters have formed some words.’
Ruby eyed Gerald closely. ‘Back in the game, are we?’
Gerald allowed himself a half-smile. ‘The coach gave me a rev up at half-time,’ he said. He ran his finger under a word at the top left of the map. ‘Praha. Where have I seen that before?’
‘On signposts all over town, dopey,’ Ruby said. ‘Praha is Czech for Prague.’
‘There’s a picture of this belltower,’ Sam said. �
�So where does this line go?’
He traced his index finger along a winding route towards the north-east. It came to rest on an engraving of a small cluster of buildings, and the word Hadanka.
‘Maybe that’s the name of a town,’ Ruby said.
‘What do you suppose this is?’ Felicity asked, pointing to a small collection of crosses just outside the township with the word Hrbitov next to it.
‘What’s a cross usually represent on a map?’ Sam said. ‘A hospital?’
‘Seeing as this was probably engraved a few hundred years ago, I don’t imagine the health system was that sophisticated,’ Ruby said. ‘A church, maybe?’
‘Or,’ said Gerald, ‘a graveyard.’
A silence settled over them. The snow continued to tumble past the arched window above their heads. Gerald suddenly remembered how cold he was.
After what seemed an age, Felicity spoke. ‘Can anyone make out this word next to the cross at the bottom?’ she said.
Ruby moved her head in close to the paper. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Is that a D?’
A rough voice sounded from behind them. ‘It’s a B.’
Gerald spun around. A man in a black overcoat blocked the doorway.
‘B, as in Brahe,’ said Tycho Brahe. A fresh silver nose covered the gash in his face.
Chapter 24
They walked along a windowless corridor, deep in the bowels of the castle. Gerald scuffed his boots and stumbled to the stone floor. Felicity stopped to help him, leaving Ruby to trudge on ahead. Sam was last, the point of Brahe’s knife at his back.
‘How much further?’ Gerald said, his voice low, defeated.
‘You’ll know when you get there,’ Brahe growled.
The miserable caravan trekked onwards. The corridor turned and ended at a heavy oak door. Ruby looked over her shoulder and Brahe told her to open it. She needed Felicity’s help to push the door in.
They passed through the doorway. The walls were at least two metres thick. There was no use in shouting. Nothing was going to penetrate. Then Sam slammed into Gerald. They both fell to the floor.
‘This was once a torture chamber,’ Brahe said. He sheathed his knife. ‘Let’s not revisit those times.’
The Crystal Code Page 17