The four-wheel drive sped along a country lane. In the locked rear compartment, Gerald bounced into the air and landed on top of Sam, jolting an elbow into his ribs.
‘Ow!’ Sam cried.
Gerald wrestled himself upright. Brahe was driving like a man running late for his wedding. There were no seat belts and the four of them were being tumbled about like socks in a drier.
The countryside zipped past the window in a blur. There were no buildings, no signs of life. Just open fields and snow. When they pulled up next to a decrepit wooden barn, Gerald feared the worst.
The rear door of the four-wheel drive opened and Pugly grabbed Felicity and Ruby and dragged them out. Gerald threw himself outside. ‘Let go!’ he shouted, diving towards the little man. But Brahe was too fast. He took Gerald by the arm and swung him around. Then slapped him hard across the face.
Gerald held a hand to his cheek and lowered his head like a whipped dog.
‘Enough of the heroics,’ Brahe said in a rumbling growl. ‘Inside.’
A hurricane lamp cast the interior of the barn in a yellow haze.
Brahe shoved Gerald hard in the back, sending him sprawling into a stack of hay bales. Gerald rolled to his side and spat a ball of blood-streaked saliva onto the floor. Felicity rushed to his side and helped him onto a bale of hay. Ruby and Sam joined them: a row of disconsolate figures, heads bowed.
Brahe crossed to a makeshift table—a plank of wood resting between two fuel drums. Pugly stood to his side, training a handgun on Gerald. Brahe motioned for the short man to join him. ‘Hold this down,’ he said, indicating a sheet of paper.
Pugly kept the gun on Gerald. ‘There’s a forecast for shut-out conditions around Landskrona,’ he said to Brahe. ‘The island may be cut off.’
Brahe grunted, absorbed in his work. ‘I need to check the translation.’
After a moment, Brahe stood back, rubbing his eyes. ‘This is taking too long,’ he said.
As Brahe stepped clear, Gerald could see what he had been working on. A large bundle of paper was spread across the tabletop. Mason Green’s crystal pendant lay on the top sheet. Gerald squinted. The paper looked familiar.
‘Is that the Voynich Manuscript?’ Gerald said.
The effect of the question on Brahe was instantaneous and monumental. The man swung around and advanced on Gerald. He took him by the collar and hauled him to his feet. ‘What did you say?’
Gerald jutted out his chin. ‘You’re looking for the universal remedy, aren’t you?’
Brahe glowered at him. But said nothing.
‘And you’re using the crystal to decipher the Voynich Manuscript to find out how to make it.’
Again, no response.
‘You’ve got everything you need,’ Gerald said. ‘Why are you keeping Ox and Alisha?’
Brahe threw Gerald back to the hay bale. ‘I don’t need to explain myself to you,’ Brahe said. ‘You could never understand the science.’
‘Science!’ Ruby said. ‘You call digging up graves and robbing the dead, science?’
Brahe tilted his head towards her. ‘What do you think archeologists do for a living? Half the economy of the undeveloped world is based on organised grave robbery.’
‘But mummies in pyramids have been dead for thousands of years,’ Ruby said.
‘And that makes them more dead than other corpses, does it? It’s okay to dig up Tutankhamun but not all right to dig up your Aunt Tammy. Or even Tycho Brahe?’
Sam gasped, his eyes widening. ‘So that was your grave. You…you are a…’
Brahe managed a self-satisfied smile. ‘What’s the matter, Mr Valentine? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
Sam’s mouth hung open.
‘I took what was rightfully mine,’ Brahe said. He fished a small metal container from his coat pocket. ‘The last piece in my jigsaw.’
‘What is it?’ Ruby asked, curious despite herself.
Brahe eyed her with interest. ‘It’s a key, Miss Valentine. A key to a code that has not been broken for half a millennium.’ He lunged forward and grabbed Ruby by the sleeve. ‘Come. You seem a clever girl. You can help me.’
‘Hey!’ Ruby protested.
Sam jumped to his feet and unzipped his jacket. He tore the string of garlic from his neck and flung it to his sister.
‘Ruby!’ he called. ‘Use this!’
Ruby caught the garlic in one hand and brandished it before her.
Brahe’s face blanched at the sight of the pungent talisman—then he snatched the string of bulbs from Ruby and hung it from the tip of his silver nose.
‘What do you think?’ he said to Ruby as the garlic jiggled about in front of him. ‘As a fashion statement, I mean. A little over the top?’
Brahe laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. ‘Your brother isn’t the sharpest tool in the box, is he? I hope you are more enlightened.’
He tossed the garlic aside and marched Ruby to the table and handed her a pen and notepad. ‘Write this down as I read it out.’
Brahe placed the crystal pendant on a page from the manuscript. Seen through the prism, the symbols morphed into entirely different shapes. He consulted a separate sheet of paper, creased a dozen times.
‘Is that from the grave you dug up?’ Ruby asked.
‘It was buried a long time ago,’ Brahe said. ‘For safekeeping.’
‘And you’re matching the symbol from the crystal with the letters on that paper.’
Brahe glanced at Ruby from the corner of his eye. ‘You are quite the cryptographer, aren’t you Miss Valentine.’
He dictated a string of letters for Ruby to write down. Pugly looked on anxiously. ‘Hurry,’ he said. ‘The weather.’
Brahe did not look up. ‘We will make it to Ven,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t interrupt.’
Brahe ran the crystal across the manuscript, deciphering the ancient script as he went. ‘c…o…r…a…p…u…e…l…l…a.’ Ruby wrote down the last of the letters.
Felicity straightened next to Gerald. ‘Cor a puella?’ she said.
‘What is it?’ Gerald asked. He didn’t like the look of horror that appeared on Felicity’s face.
Brahe took the notepad and scanned it quickly. ‘I was right,’ he said. ‘This confirms it.’ He cast a considered glance at Ruby. ‘Thank you for your help, Miss Valentine. I think there may be one more contribution you can make to my work.’
He went to take Ruby by the arm, but she ducked clear. In an instant she had grabbed the hurricane lamp. A mighty kick from her boot sent the makeshift table flying. Pages of parchment scattered into the air.
‘No,’ Brahe cried. ‘The manuscript!’ He dived at the flying pages, trying to gather them in.
Ruby lashed out again with her boot, this time smashing one of the drums onto its side. Fuel gushed onto a stack of hay bales.
Gerald, Felicity and Sam were on their feet. Pugly aimed his gun from one person to the next, unsure what to do.
Ruby held the hurricane lamp high above her head. Brahe made a move towards her, but she brandished the lamp like a weapon. ‘Stop!’ she cried. ‘Or I’ll light this place up.’
Brahe froze, clutching manuscript pages to his chest. He slowly extended a hand. ‘Give me the lamp, Miss Valentine,’ he said. His eyes were focused on the yellow flame that danced inside the glass cage. ‘You know you can’t escape.’
Ruby squared her jaw and swallowed tightly. ‘Maybe not,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘But they can.’ She turned her head towards Gerald, her eyes saying what words could not.
Then she smashed the lamp into the fuel-soaked hay. And the barn exploded in flames.
Chapter 29
A sheet of fire split the barn in two: Gerald, Sam and Felicity on one side; Ruby, Brahe
and Pugly on the other.
Intense heat.
A pall of blinding smoke.
Total confusion.
Gerald felt himself stumbling across the ground. Felicity had him by the hand, dragging him through a door into the cold night and flinging him into a snow bank. ‘Don’t move,’ she ordered. Without waiting for a response, she turned and ran back into the inferno.
Gerald raised himself onto his elbows and was about to go after her when she reappeared. She had an arm around Sam’s shoulders and was helping him stagger out of the barn.
Smoke rolled out of the upper windows. Flames licked at the rafters.
Sam coughed, and spat into the snow. ‘We’ve got to go back for Ruby,’ he said. His voice was a rasp. He was barely able to breathe. He lunged forward.
Felicity still had her arm around him, holding him back. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘The flames are too high.’
Sam dropped to his knees. He gazed up at the burning building. His face glowed in the light from the fire. ‘No,’ he whispered, stricken.
‘They would have got out,’ Felicity said. Her voice trailed off. ‘I’m sure of it.’
Gerald lay propped in the snow. He stared at the flames. A lump lodged in his throat, about the same size as the hole that had just been ripped out of his heart.
Ruby.
Ruby.
What have you done?
Gerald struggled to his feet, and took Felicity’s hand. ‘The other side,’ he said.
She looked at him in alarm. ‘What?’
‘The other side of the barn,’ he said. ‘If they got out, that’s where they’ll be.’
Gerald stumbled through the snow, his mind fixed on the sole prospect of finding Ruby alive on the far side of the building.
They reached the corner of the barn and Gerald heard something above the roar of the fire. He skidded to a stop and pulled Felicity back just as a four-wheel drive vehicle burst from behind the building, missing them by centimetres.
Gerald stared after the speeding tail lights.
‘Was that them?’ he said. ‘Did you see her?’
Sam slid into Gerald’s back. ‘There were two people in the front. I think there was someone in the back seat. It must be Ruby.’ Sam sounded like he had been reborn.
‘Are you sure?’ Gerald said.
‘No,’ Sam said. ‘But who else could it be?’
Of course it had to be them. And it had to be Ruby.
It had to be.
The tail lights disappeared around a bend in the distance. Gerald looked down at the tyre tracks in the snow, fresh and sharp. He looked at Sam and Felicity, then started jogging down the path. Sam and Felicity fell in behind.
The going was hard. The cold air cut at Gerald’s throat and razored at his lungs. But they kept on. After about a kilometre, Gerald realised they were heading back towards Hadanka. He started recognising landmarks. As they neared the junkyard on the outskirts of the village, he had a sudden thought.
The aero club.
Brahe was going to fly out of there.
The tyre tracks turned off the road. Up ahead, Gerald could see the aero club hangar. The four-wheel drive was parked next to it. Gerald breathed deep and urged his legs on. He had no grand plan, no masterful scheme to mount a rescue.
He just wanted to see if Ruby was there.
If Ruby was alive.
Gerald ran straight up to the four-wheel drive. He grabbed a door handle and pulled it open.
The vehicle was empty.
There was no sign whether Ruby had been there or not.
Sam and Felicity ran up to him, breathing hard. Gerald cast a despairing look to them. Before he could speak the night air was rent by the sound of an engine—an engine far more powerful than that in a four-wheel drive.
An aeroplane emerged from the front of the hangar, twin propellers spinning fast, skis sliding towards the airstrip.
Gerald ran after it, slogging through the snow. He could see Brahe in the pilot’s seat on the left, and Pugly sitting beside him.
In the back, with her face pressed to the window and staring right at him, was Ruby.
Gerald trundled to a stop. He stared after the plane as it neared the end of the runway and turned.
Brahe fired the engines. The propellers roared. The plane rolled forward and sped along the airstrip. As it drew level with Gerald it left the ground and soared into the night sky. When Felicity and Sam reached Gerald, he was looking into the heavens as if searching for shooting stars.
‘She’s alive,’ he said, still gazing skywards. ‘Ruby’s alive.’
Gerald had the strange sensation that he was about to drown on dry land. It was like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Then his chest filled with air, like an over-inflated balloon.
Ruby was alive.
Then he started to cry.
The more he tried to stop, the more his lungs filled with air, the more his shoulders heaved, the more tears ran down his face.
Ruby was alive.
Gerald felt Sam’s arm across his shoulders and Felicity’s hand taking his. His vision blurred, the tears were a curtain.
‘I’m okay,’ he said, sounding anything but.
‘It’s all right,’ Felicity said into his ear. ‘It’s all right to cry.’
Gerald took a deep breath, trying to staunch the sobs. Why was he doing this? Ruby was alive. It was all okay. But it could easily have been so very different.
Gerald’s eyes slowly cleared. But the hole in his heart stood gaping. He would do anything to see his friend again.
‘Gerald,’ Felicity said. Her voice was soft, comforting. ‘We have to call someone. The police.’
Gerald sniffed. Blinked his eyes. Wiped his tears. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Of course we have to call the police.’
‘There’s more to it, Gerald,’ Sam said. ‘Tell him, Felicity.’
Felicity cupped Gerald’s chin in her gloved hand. ‘When Brahe was decoding the manuscript back in the barn, and Ruby was writing it down—’
‘Yeah,’ Gerald said. ‘What about it?’
‘I think he was reading out the ingredients for the universal remedy.’
‘But it was just a bunch of random letters,’ Gerald said. ‘None of it made sense.’
‘I’m fairly sure it was Latin,’ Felicity said, shooting a concerned look at Sam. ‘They make us study Latin at St Hilda’s—I think I recognised some of it.’
‘So?’ Gerald said. ‘What’s the big deal about ingredients?’
‘One of them was cor a puella. I think that means—’ Felicity took a deep breath. ‘It means, the heart of a girl.’
Gerald looked at Felicity as if she was insane.
‘The heart of a girl,’ Felicity said. ‘And then Brahe said something about Ruby making a contribution to his work. Gerald, I think Brahe’s going to use Ruby as part of his potion.’
Chapter 30
Gerald led the dash to the aero club hangar.
‘There must be a phone in here,’ he said, skidding through the open door. He looked around in a panic. The inside was lost in shadow.
‘No sign of anything over here,’ Felicity called from the far side of the building.
Sam raced up to Gerald and grabbed him by the shoulder. ‘What about that?’ He pointed to a single-engine aeroplane at the rear of the hangar. ‘Would it have a radio or something?’
Gerald stared at the little Cessna. Compared with the majesty of the Archer corporate jet, it looked like a toy—a wind-up toy, with a rubber band for power.
But to Gerald, it was a lifeline.
He ran to the plane. ‘Come on,’ he shouted back to Sam and Felicity. He ducked past the propeller and under the wing. He pulled open the door, c
lambered up into the pilot’s seat and started flicking switches.
Sam appeared in the doorway. ‘You know how to work the radio on this?’
Gerald pulled a set of headphones over his ears and adjusted the microphone in front of his mouth. ‘This isn’t like the chopper back in California,’ he said. ‘Not only can I work the radio,’ he broke into a manic grin, ‘but I reckon I can fly it too.’
Sam gaped at him. ‘You what?’
Gerald pressed a button on the steering control. ‘This is Oscar Kilo Echo India November, from Hadanka aero club. I need to report a kidnapping. A twin-engine aircraft has just left Hadanka airstrip with two men on board, destination unknown. They have kidnapped a girl: Ruby Valentine. Thirteen years old. Blonde. Please alert the Czech police immediately.’
Gerald released the button and waited. Sam went to speak but Gerald held up a hand as he listened to a voice over the headphones. ‘Affirmative,’ Gerald replied into the microphone. Then a pause. ‘Uh, who am I?’ He gave Sam and Felicity a panicked look. ‘An interested bystander. Out.’
Gerald tore off the headphones and climbed out of the plane, pushing past Sam and Felicity. ‘They’re calling the police,’ he said.
‘Who is?’ Felicity asked.
‘I think it was the control tower at Prague Airport.’ Gerald pulled a chock from a wheel under the left wing and ducked across to the other side.
‘They spoke English?’ Sam said.
‘International language of flying,’ Gerald said. ‘They could see Brahe on the radar. He’s heading north.’ He tugged on the other chock and sent it skating across the floor. ‘Take a side.’ Gerald grabbed a strut under one wing; Sam and Felicity did the same on the opposite side. They pushed the plane towards the hangar doors.
‘How did you know all that radio stuff?’ Sam asked. ‘You sounded like the real deal.’
Gerald nodded to the side of the plane, on which was painted in large black letters, OK-EIN. ‘That’s the plane’s call sign. Its tail number. You spell it out with the phonetic alphabet.’
The Cessna juddered out of the hangar and onto the apron, and rolled to a stop.
The Crystal Code Page 21