She was right, of course. If he didn’t stop going over everything in his mind like this, he’d drive himself crazy. He really did have to try and put it all behind him.
He trudged down the slope through the steadily worsening sleet.
If only he could have one last glance at that shield… True, he had seen it already, but it was so mixed up with the vision and everything that had happened since, he no longer had a clear picture of it in his head. And what if all the rumbling and settling of the earth had exposed something else too? The great bronze helmet with its face-mask, perhaps? Or some of the jewels he had seen at the feet of the warrior-king?
Surely it wouldn’t hurt to have one final look? It wasn’t as if he was going to touch anything. All he wanted was an image to take away with him, something he could carry around inside his mind for the rest of his life.
He hung back a little, allowing his cousin to reach the bottom first, then whipped round and began to scramble up the mound once more.
“Phoenix!” yelled Rose. “Phoenix!”
She reached out towards him … but it was too late.
A massive tremor was tearing through the earth beneath them, ripping Phoenix from his feet and catapulting him up into an explosion of fiery dust.
He landed just inches from where a jagged crack was snaking around the base of the mound, separating it from the grassy stretch of land beyond.
Staggering upright, he braced himself to jump across the gap, but already the two sides were wrenching apart and a chasm was opening up before him.
On the other side of the gulf, Rose was shouting to him … jabbing her finger at the darkening air … pointing behind him…
Phoenix glanced over his shoulder at the summit.
Cold fear flashed in his eyes.
High above him swirled a huge cloud of dust … and something seemed to be sucking it down towards the very centre of the mound.
13.
THE EMPTY HOLLOW
A scythe of electric-white light slashed across the sky, illuminating Elvira as she dashed between the pine trees.
She’d been this way already, surely? Perhaps she should try going in the opposite direction…
Twisting round, she stumbled over a hidden tree root and went crashing to the forest floor.
She lay there for a moment, her cheek pressed against the slimy layer of mud and pine needles, and then she began to sob.
It was no good. She would have to go back and tell Mum Lorenzo was missing. The grounds were just too huge to cover on her own – and in any case, it had been over half an hour since she had last seen her brother. There was no knowing where he might have got to.
But what was she going to say? As far as her mother was concerned they’d both been in the house playing hide-and-seek. If she told the truth now, Mum would be livid. It looked like she would have to tell another lie to cover up the ones she’d already told…
Elvira got to her feet and set off back towards the manor.
She had nearly reached the border with the garden when she stopped.
What if Mum came down to the river to look for Lorenzo and saw the tree-trunk bridge? What if she went over to the mound and discovered the two holes? There’d be trouble then, for sure…
There was nothing else for it. Before she did anything else she was going to have to go and fill in those holes.
Elvira hurried back the way she had come. A few minutes later she was crossing the river and pulling herself up the embankment, blasts of cold rain whipping her face.
She raced towards the mound and scrambled up its windswept side, then rushed over to the pit in the middle and knelt down beside it.
She would start with this one … and she would bury the trowel while she was at it. It wasn’t as if she was planning on using it again, was it? Right now she’d be glad if she never came back here in her life.
Crooking her arm around the pile of soil heaped at its edge, Elvira began to draw it into the hole.
And in amongst the falling earth a small bronze coin went spinning to the bottom … the same coin her brother had dropped only half an hour before.
Phoenix stood rooted to the spot.
It seemed there was nowhere to turn.
Above him twisted the vortex of descending dust and beneath him the gaping chasm stretched its ever-widening jaws.
He flinched as the remaining iron bolt seared through his jeans pocket into his thigh.
Cursing, he pulled it out.
What was happening to it? It had been warm before, but now it was burning hot – so hot he could hardly hold it.
Phoenix raised his arm, ready to hurl the bolt into the gulf below … and then he lowered it, frowning.
From across the void Rose was screaming at him to lie down flat, to cling to the mound for all he was worth, but he took no notice.
What was it she had said to him at the top just now? Something about putting his mother’s secret behind him? About putting it back where it belonged? Yes, that was it. It’s time to put the past back where it belongs.
How could he have been so blind? He’d been holding on to the one thing he had needed all this time…
He turned to face the summit, brandishing the iron bolt above his head.
“So this is what you want, is it?” he yelled. “This is what you’ve been waiting for?”
He began to heave himself up the slope, his fingers curled around the bolt.
At the crest he paused.
The pit he had dug in the centre had become a churning mass, sucking everything in its path towards it: dust and stones, twigs and leaves. Now and then there was a flash of gold amongst the spinning debris … a gleam of silver … a sparkle of precious stone.
Phoenix gazed open-mouthed over the rest of the mound.
The whole surface was peppered with tiny hollows, no longer just round the edge but right across the top. The tremor seemed to have deepened them too … and nestled at the base of each one was a glowing iron bolt.
The earth gave another violent shudder and Phoenix was buffeted sideways.
“OK!” he shouted. “I know what I’ve got to do, all right? I know what I’ve got to find!”
He waited for the tremor to subside, then started to drag himself around the mound on all fours, the bolt burning in his hand.
And not far off, half hidden by the swirling dust, the silhouette darted to and fro over the luminous skeleton of the great boat.
Elvira huddled beneath the covers of her bed, her face wet with tears.
The police were still outside, along with some of the villagers who had come up to help. One or two of them had gone back for torches and searchlights and now they were scouring the garden yet again, calling to each other through the rainy darkness.
One man, whose job it had been to search beyond the river, had guessed she wasn’t telling the truth, she just knew it. She had hung around at the bottom of the garden waiting for him to come back, dreading what he might have to say – and when at last he had emerged from the forest he had given her such a knowing look, as if he knew quite well that she had been over on the mound.
She hadn’t wavered from her story, though. Lorenzo had grown tired of playing with his soldiers, she had said. She had agreed to play his favourite game of hide-and-seek, but when it had been his turn to hide, she hadn’t been able to find him anywhere.
Elvira swallowed, remembering what had really happened … the frantic searching of the house and grounds …the race against time to fill in the two holes…the sprint back to the manor … the heart-stopping journey upstairs to wash and change into clean clothes … the burying of the dirty ones at the bottom of the laundry basket in her room … and all the time, the only thing she could think of was Lorenzo. How she should never have allowed her brother to cross the river in the first place. How she shouldn’t have let him out of her sight – not even for a second. How, if anything truly dreadful had happened to him, she would never forgive herself…
It
was then that she had spotted the iron bolt sitting on top of her chest of drawers. If anyone saw it, there would be questions. And besides, she never wanted to see it again. It was a reminder of just how stupid and selfish she had been.
She had snatched it up and pushed it under a loose floorboard beside the window, noticing neither its faint glow nor its warmth against the tingling of her freshly-scrubbed hands – and then she had raced downstairs to find her mother.
Mum had been pretty calm at first. She’d said Lorenzo was probably just playing a joke on them. But it wasn’t long before she had started to panic too and Dad had been called back from work.
After that everything had happened very fast: the police had been summoned and a huge search party mounted. All day the house and its surroundings had hummed with activity.
Now though, things had quietened down. Most of the villagers had gone home, and whilst a few stragglers remained outside with the police, it was obvious from the sound of their voices that they no longer held out much hope.
Elvira burrowed further inside the bed.
If only she had been honest from the start, then maybe they might have had more chance of finding him … if only she had told the truth when it had most mattered.
She reached up under her pillow and closed her fingers around the silver angel. If only … if only…
There was no point wondering at what might have been – her little brother was gone.
And it was every bit her fault.
The tremors were getting closer and closer together.
He had twenty seconds at most … twenty seconds to check inside as many hollows as possible before he would be forced to press himself to the ground, tensing his muscles against the juddering earth.
But how many more hollows were there?
Hundreds and hundreds of them … too many to count … yet he was going to have to look in every one.
Phoenix made to peer into the next hollow, his fingers clenched around the iron bolt, then cried out as another tremor, much stronger than anything that had come before, ripped through the earth, flinging him forward.
The next moment he was scrabbling against the blistering soil.
Something seemed to be pulling him towards the centre of the mound – an invisible force dragging him onward.
From all around he could hear the far-off clamour of voices mingling with the rhythmic beating of drums, and ahead of him the column of light had appeared once more, its milky rays illuminating the mouth of the ravenous pit.
Phoenix opened his mouth and screamed.
He knew how it would be down there: the heat … the lack of air … the impossible blackness. He had felt it all before. But now there was something worse than that – something far, far worse: the king himself. Flailing out with his arms, he plunged the iron bolt into the earth.
At once he jolted to a halt.
He lay there, just inches from the rim of the pit, clinging to the bolt.
A terrible gleaming rose from within the hole … and he glanced down to see the great bronze helmet with its face-mask glaring up at him through the pillar of light.
Come on in, boy. Come and see the treasure for yourself.
Phoenix stared back into the empty eyes, his heart slamming against his chest.
Come on in. You know it’s what you want…
For a moment it seemed that the eyes would suck him in … that he was powerless to resist their magnetic pull…
“No!” he cried. “It’s not what I want at all! Not any more!” He tore his gaze away. “You took Lorenzo, didn’t you? You lured him into the river. Well, you’re not having me too!”
He tightened his grip around the bolt.
If he could just use it to get back to the edge … to where he would be safe from the pull of the pit…
He wriggled back until he was at full stretch, then in one swift movement pulled out the bolt and rammed it into the earth in front of his chest.
Three times he dragged himself backwards … three times he repositioned the bolt … and then he stopped, spread-eagled over the surface of the mound.
Now he must wait…now he must hold firm until after the next tremor. There was no way he could risk being flung towards the pit again. He didn’t have the strength to get himself back a second time.
He listened for the familiar rumbling of the earth, squeezing his eyes shut against the hot blanket of dust that was surely about to envelop him.
But it did not come.
Thirty seconds must have passed since the last tremor … forty … fifty … and all around him there had descended a peculiar hush. It was as if the mound itself was holding its breath…
His face still pressed to the earth, Phoenix opened his eyes.
It was a moment before he realized that he was staring straight down into one of the narrow little hollows … and that it was quite, quite empty.
He lifted his head, then caught his breath.
To one side of the empty hollow, wreathed in dust, was a shadowy figure.
It seemed that someone had been waiting for him.
14.
THE REWARD
It was a face he knew almost as well as his own – a face that had stared out at him countless times from the faded old family album.
Younger than the one he was used to, it was true. Much younger. But very definitely the same.
Still gripping the anchored bolt, Phoenix swallowed back the dryness in his throat.
“Is it really you?” he whispered.
The ghostly figure looked back at him sadly.
For a time there was silence, except for the churning of the pit in the centre of the mound.
“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” said Phoenix. “You were here earlier on.”
He frowned.
“But why do you look so sad? I don’t understand. You must realize now that what happened to Lorenzo wasn’t your fault?”
The figure bowed its head.
“But it wasn’t!” cried Phoenix. “Really, it wasn’t!”
He winced as the bolt pulsed with a fresh surge of heat.
Very soon he was going to have to put it back inside the empty hollow. There was no way this lull in the tremors was going to last for long. And once the bolt had been replaced, who knew whether this sad-looking child-ghost of his mother would still be here for him to talk to? But he had a few moments, surely? Enough time at least to try and convince her that she wasn’t to blame for everything that had happened all those years ago. And until then he mustn’t let go of the bolt, however much it hurt. It was the only thing standing between him and the menacing pit beyond.
“Look,” he went on. “I don’t know exactly what went on that day – whether you could have stopped Lorenzo from coming over here or not. But you weren’t to know the mound was cursed. That there was something – someone – down there, protecting their treasure. You saw what happened to me, didn’t you? And you must have heard what I told Rose? About the voice luring me into the river?”
He shuddered.
“Nothing could have prevented me from obeying that voice. Nothing in the world. And it must have been the same for poor Lorenzo. He wouldn’t have had any choice.”
His mother’s ghost looked back at him – and there was a new stillness in her face.
“It’s why you’re here on the mound, isn’t it?” said Phoenix. “Because you’ve never been able to let go of what happened?”
He shook his head.
“You’ve got to put it all behind you now. Whatever that might mean for you. Somehow you’ve got to move on to something better.”
A smile flickered on his lips.
“Just listen to me!” he said. “Lecturing my own mother! It’s kind of hard to know what to say to you.”
He glanced away.
“Except – well, except there is something I want to say. I want you to know how much I’ve missed you. You were such a brilliant mum to me – the best anyone could ever wish for. And it
’s really hard without you. But I’ve got to get on with it. I’ve got to pull myself together and try to enjoy life.”
The ghostly figure reached towards him, and for the briefest of seconds Phoenix felt the whisper of a touch upon his shoulder.
“You know I lost the little silver angel, don’t you?” he murmured. “It was his, wasn’t it? It belonged to Lorenzo.”
The figure smiled.
“Then I’m doubly sorry for losing it. I know what that angel must have meant to you, and I wish more than anything else that I could have it back.”
They both started as a familiar rumbling rose up from the depths of the earth.
“Looks like someone’s losing patience,” murmured Phoenix, biting his lip as the iron bolt seared into his fist.
He stared at his mother’s ghost.
“I’ll never forget you,” he said. “Never. And I hope you get to be with him again. With Lorenzo, I mean.”
He wrenched the bolt from the ground and unclenched his blistering fingers over the empty hollow, watching as it dropped into place.
The rumbling died to nothing – and looking up, he saw that the dust was melting away … the milky light was fading … the vortex was slowing … the hollows and the central pit were filling in…
A shower of earth jetted up from the middle of the mound, as if in some final gesture of farewell, landing on the surface with a gentle patter – and then there was only stillness and silence.
Phoenix turned back towards the place where the ghostly figure had been.
But he knew even before he looked that it had vanished.
Rose watched as the veil of dust and sleet dissolved and a golden brightness filtered through the air.
Something quite remarkable had happened up there, that much was obvious. Something which seemed to have quelled the warrior-king’s anger.
The gulf in the earth was sealing itself back up, and as the sun scorched away the damp coldness she could feel her fears for Phoenix melting away too.
He’d only been gone five or ten minutes, yet it felt like hours since he had scrambled up the side of the mound, and with each fresh tremor her view had become more and more obscured. She hadn’t been able to hear much either, except for the juddering of the earth and the howling of the wind, although in the last few minutes she could have sworn she had heard the sound of her cousin’s voice.
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