The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2)

by Pip Ballantine

  Julia curled up on her bed, and turned away from them all, but Verity suspected that she was wide awake wrestling with her own problems. It had sense that she didn’t want to share.

  Emma sat on the edge of her bed, eyes down cast. “What was Professor Vidmar doing here? I thought he was professor of engineering, not aether? And what’s with his different name?”

  Verity licked her lips. “The people who were after the Silver Pharaoh are also after the Emerald Flame. He’s one of them.”

  She kicked her legs and her face screwed up in concentration. “I liked him alright, but we’re not going to let him find it are we? That would be bad.”

  Verity nodded. “It would be, and we won’t let them win again.” Somehow saying it out loud made her feel a bit better, even though she had lost the Sconce of Ra from the pharaoh's tomb. This time would be different.

  Julia rolled over and looked at them through red eyes. “I could tell me mother, about all this?”

  Verity considered the chance of that working. Even if Una loved her daughter, she had not seen her for most of her life, and would she really trust the word of a bunch of children?

  Verity experienced much dismissal from adults when she told them things. Agent Harrison Thorne came the closest, actually listening, but she’d hidden things from him, and now feared he too might not believe her. Also, there was something else, something that Julia might not have noticed in the excitement of her reunion with her mother.

  Una McTighe stood close to Marcello and when she looked at him, something apart from co-worker’s relationship shone in her eyes. Perhaps she only fancied the Italian, or maybe it had gone to more than that. Either way, it meant they would need to tread carefully with Una.

  Marcello and his sister were very good at embedding themselves in the lives of those around them. Verity got first-hand experience with the effects of his handsome smile and charming manner. Like some of the girls and boy at the Delancy academy she’d been dazzled by him. Well, that will not be happening again, thank you very much, she thought to herself.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think we should do that just yet, Julia. He didn’t bring it up, so maybe we can use it against him.”

  Hopefully Julia would pick up on the signals she had, and Verity wouldn’t have to have an awkward conversation.

  “See how it plays out,” she said nodding, “maybe the blighter will trip himself up.”

  Verity smiled what she hoped was at least a little convincing. “Let’s all try and get some sleep, tomorrow we can begin looking for that formula.”

  The other two girls rolled over, but she didn’t sleep. Instead she stared at the ceiling, playing over her behaviour in the Delancy academy. All of the other young women had been enamoured of him, and if she were forced to admit it, so was she. He’d shown her things, let her into his laboratory after hours, and worst of all shared what he knew about the Sound. Without the book he gave her, then she would have gone on thinking she was descending into madness.

  Chasing those conflicting thoughts and emotions around her head, eventually she fell into exhausted sleep hours after everyone else gently gave way to snoring.

  When the sunlight stabbed its way between the opening of the tent, she let out a low groan and tried to hide her head under her pillow.

  By the sounds around her, the other children were not committed to waking up either. Then a voice at the flap made her leap bolt upright. “Miss McTighe, Miss Fitzroy.” The accent was different to the one he had at the academy, but the Italian lilt only made it seem better.

  She gestured wildly for Julia to go speak to him, but her friend crossed her arm and shook her head. Her Scottish stubbornness might bring Marciello, into the tent. Leaping up from her hammock, she stumbled a few times, pushed her hair out of her eyes, and burst through the flap in a state of disarray.

  Marcello took a step back, stared at the ground for a moment, and then looked up. The Cappodocian sun gleamed off his dark hair and brought his sculpted cheekbones to high relief.

  In reaction to that, Verity found herself snapping, “And what should we call you, Professor?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he tried to guide her away from the tent by the elbow, but she jerked it hard out of his grasp. Still she followed him a little distance from the tent.

  “My name, my real name is Marcello,” he said under his breath looking ashamed.

  She wasn’t fooled; it was all an act with him.

  “And your sister,” she snapped, “is she on the dig too?”

  A flicker of dark worry crossed his features. “She is… engaged on another project. You should be glad of that though. She did not enjoy your meddling last time.”

  Verity ground her teeth together, before replying. “My meddling? She kidnapped a scientist and committed god knows what other crimes.”

  “You are just a girl, I can’t expect you to understand the grander scheme of things. Sometimes good men do bad things for the right reasons.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You may not think it, but I am a good man.”

  “No they don’t,” she said, lifting her chin. “And I don’t think you are. You just don’t want us to expose you.”

  He licked his lips, and considered her for a moment. “And neither do you. How do you think Una will react to find out there is a spy in her midst, one sent by the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences to steal her discoveries?”

  Verity might as well as have been hit in the head with a plank, but her expression must have veered into the dangerous, because Marcello held up his hands.

  “I don’t want to do that, Verity, but I will if you endanger the dig or get in my way.”

  She was just gathering her resources to fire back, when a lanky blond man, appeared around the side of the nearby tents. He was dressed in beige linen and wore a pith helmet tipped back on his head. He also looked red enough to cook an egg on.

  At first, she took him for an Englishman, but then he surprised her with a German accent when he spoke. “Marcello, there you are. I got lost in the camp and nearly fell down a hole.”

  The Italian’s face flickered from frustration into a smile, a transformation which deeply disturbed Verity. “Henrich, I was going to come find you, but may I introduce Miss Verity Fitzroy? She’s one of Una’s daughter’s classmates. They’re going to be on my little tour too. Verity, this is Henrich Kissel from the German Institute of Antiquities.”

  The newcomer shook her hand and smiled. “Always a delight to see the youth of tomorrow interested in the past.”

  “We lost a lot of knowledge in the dark ages,” she replied, “some say wonders we have yet to recreate.”

  He nodded so vigorously his pith helmet was in danger of falling off. “Indeed. And this site is quite possibly more exciting than even Derinkuyu.” His voice faded off as Potts rolled out from inside the tent.

  The design of the automaton was unusual, but for a moment Verity could have sworn that a flicker of concern passed over Henrich’s face. A lot of people wearing masks today apparently, because he tugged on the corners of his jacket and smiled. “You have a little companion, I see.”

  Potts’ hidden eyes flashed, but Verity made a quick gesture against her side, just a little one, and for once the automaton managed not to reply.

  “Yes, a class project,” she replied, as Emma, Julia and Christopher emerged from the tent.

  Marcello preformed the introductions, even though he had to be aware of Una’s daughter glaring at him. She really would have made a terrible spy with her inability to hide her emotions.

  “Well then,” he said clapping his hands together, “I am going to show you around the dig today, but only the bits we have finished with. Still please don’t touch anything, and let’s all stay together.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Henrich chuckled, the children did not join in.

  “Hold on, we’re one short,” Verity said, darting back into the tent and looking about for Liam. The little blighter wasn
’t anywhere to be seen. He must have snuck out from under the back and set off on his own agenda.

  “We can’t leave without him,” she said when she came back.

  Christopher straightened up. “I’ll go find him and catch up. He’s a terror for hiding.”

  Verity let out a long-controlled breath. She was sure Liam was wandering the camp, asking questions, and maybe squirreling away anything that wasn’t tied down. Someone had to go find him, but Christopher was a bit too quick to volunteer for her liking. What the two of them could get up to beggared the imagination. Still the two boys didn’t have much affection for the past, and maybe they could learn something.

  With the tips of her fingers, she signalled to Christopher to have a look around and find out what he could. He gave a slight nod, and ambled off before Marcello was able to complain. In his eyes she observed his thinking; if he made a fuss about it, then it might upset the whole apple cart.

  Verity shot him a wicked smile. She’d never played chess, but her father had, and she knew a checkmate when she saw one.

  Marcello cleared his throat. “Well, then, shall we head off.”

  As the little group made their way out of the camp, Julia and Emma took up positions on each side of the Italian, while Verity naturally fell back to walk with Henrich. Potts rolled between them, occasionally switching to his legs to get over a particularly rocky spot.

  Verity tried not to stare daggers into Marcello’s back by chatting with the German. “So how does a German institute end up in a dig in Turkey?”

  He blinked at her, as if not used to children asking such pointed questions. Wiping a little sweat from his brow, he shrugged. “The Institute is partly funding this expedition. Doctor McTighe lost her backers for it a few months ago, and we decided to help her. She really is quite extraordinary.”

  “Quite,” Verity muttered, glancing ahead to where Julia stomped alongside Marcello. Emma put up a better front, chatting away to him, smiling and giggling. Still if need be she could still stab him in the kidneys. “So, if it isn’t too rude, why did Julia’s mother lose her backers? She’s a world class expert.”

  The German stiffened at that, but social convention said he couldn’t just ignore her question. Verity smiled as she looked down at her feet. “Well… there were a few incidents at the dig that made her previous funders a little nervous. Nothing to worry about though. The dig progresses.”

  Verity made a mental not to probe someone else on that little detail. The thin set of Henrich’s lips suggested he wasn’t going to give anymore away, especially to a child he’d just met. That didn’t matter, she’d get it elsewhere.

  After about ten minutes of walking up a slight slope, the soft volcanic rock took a sudden turn upwards, rising to almost sheer cliffs above. At the very top was a square building with a cupola dome, and tower attached. Marcello stopped, braced himself on the incline and turned around to face his little group. “This is the fortress, an example of Byzantine architecture, but the tunnels which were found below only a few years ago are much older indeed. Please follow me.”

  Leading them around to the side of the hilltop, they found a round tunnel leading into the mountain. Local works sat outside, smoking and talking. They eyed Marcello for only a moment, before resuming their conversation. Work for the day must not have started yet.

  “This was where a local man wanted to build,” the Italian explained. Verity had to admit he made a pretty good job of being a guide. She almost forgot he was her enemy for a second as he described the moment when one hammer blow revealed the start of the tunnel that led to the largest underground city ever found. She found her eyes grew a little hot with tears as she imagined what her father would have given to have that experience.

  Taking a step behind Henrich, she brushed them away with the back of her hand. The German glanced behind him, but didn’t say anything, though his brows did furrow in concern for a brief moment.

  “Let’s go in then,” Marcello said, the smile on his lips seemingly genuine.

  At first the tunnel wasn’t too much to look at. Strings of electric lights lined the left-hand side, placed there by the dig crew obviously, but apart from that not much really stood out. It was merely a tunnel chiselled from the soft volcanic rock. However, then they reached the door.

  Suddenly Julia snapped out of her funk, and ran towards it. Verity though was too dazzled to say anything. The Sound in her heard sang a symphony to her, ancient and deep. It resonated in her bones, and for a moment she couldn't move. She didn't want anything to get in the way of her absorbing every little detail.

  The doors before her were clockwork, but more detailed than anything she'd ever seen. The intricacies of the mechanism sent a shiver of pure beauty down her spine.

  When activated this door would fit together so seamlessly, that there was no chance anyone would find the join. It would be as a wall. However, it took her a moment to understand at the moment they stood ajar, their complexity incomplete.

  Potts rolled over and angled his goggles up and down the door. She knew he didn't have the Sound, but his automaton eyes might see more than even that revealed.

  "Powered by aether," he said, rolling back to them, as if the mystery had been solved. He didn't see the beauty as she did.

  Dimly Verity made out a conversation between Henrich and Marcello, but she was having a problem disentangling herself from the door. It clung to her senses, demanded her attention. The effect was rather like being caught between the real and the dream world; paralyzed and growing increasingly frantic as she couldn't move.

  Emma's voice floated to her, and she was aware of a tugging at her hand, but nothing else. "Verity, you sick or something?"

  "Miss Fitzroy?" Marcello came into her line of sight, his brows furrowed with concern. He put his cool hand on the side of her face, and that seemed to bring her back to herself. She didn't want him to touch her, not after all the things he'd done.

  Jerking back to herself, she stumbled back a step. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said with a snap, "just admiring the handiwork."

  "It is worth a moment," Henrich said, tipping back his pith helmet. "I've never seen the like."

  "The other underground cities had all been looted centuries ago," Julia said in a low voice, daring to reach out a hand to the flawlessly rolled sheets of copper that held the workings. "So many people have wondered what the ancients actually built, and here it is." For a moment Verity saw it in her friend's eyes; she'd completely forgotten about the pain of her mother's choices. Being confronted with them though was something else entirely.

  "This is just the beginning," Marcello said, his bright smile flashing. For an instant Verity got transported back to the Delancy Academy, standing in his laboratory, feeling the heat of attraction and not know what to do with it.

  As he led them past the door, Potts rolled closer to her. "What sort of enemy was that door built to keep out do you think?" His artificially yellow eyes gleamed in the half-light.

  He did make her wonder, jerking her away from the magnificence of the creation. The recollection of the Silver Pharaoh and the giant automaton flashed in her mind. Could that be one of the reasons for the door.

  Pushing that aside, she tried to soak in the wonder of the city as its own thing. Marcello gestured them over to a line of three large piece of paper tacked to the rock wall. This was obviously no ancient map, instead being where the archaeologists were sketching their finds.

  Peering at the paper, Verity saw immediately the grand scale of the place.

  "This is in miles," Julia said, tracing the lines, spreading in every direction.

  "And in layers too." Marcello tapped the other two pieces of paper. "We've got down as far as a third level, but there are stairs we haven't explored that could take this miles into the earth."

  "How many people do you think could have lived here?" Potts asked, extending his legs to peer at the nearest sketch.

  Marcello looked at him oddly, since it was a ve
ry un-automaton like query, but he did answer. "Over twenty thousand at least. There are wells for water, presses for wine, all the comforts of home."

  "A complete underground city," Marcus said. "And it is much cooler down here, is that why they built it?"

  "Not with a gate like that," Verity broke in, and immediately wished she hadn't. All eyes turned to her. Clearing her throat she realised she might as well venture the rest. "This was a place to hide from some kind of enemy, and with all this effort, it must have been a terrible one."

  Marcello's eyes narrowed on her. "That is the working theory, though we have no idea who that might be."

  “I would love to look here,” Julia said, jerking the Italian’s attention away from Verity, which she was just fine with. She pointed to a collection of small rooms, which seemed to have vertical shafts indicated on them. “I would bet that is some kind of laboratory or workroom. My uncle keeps his ventilated like that.”

  Verity could have cuffed her in the back of the head, since Marcello’s expression grew very serious. He peered closer at where she pointed. “You know, I never saw that before. You might be right.”

  Julia stood a little straighter, but Verity shook her head behind the Italian’s back. Just before the Scottish girl could reveal anything else, a bell began to toll from up the way they had come, a loud clanging that shattered the silence of the ancient city.

  “What is that?” Henrich asked, spinning around as if he expected the ancient enemy of this place to have begun an assault. After all she’d seen Verity wasn’t entirely uncertain that might not happen.

  “The alarm at the dig,” Marcello said, gesturing them to follow him as he ran back up the tunnel.

  Verity was torn. If they broke free of the nefarious Italian then maybe they might have a chance to examine the dig themselves. She was contemplating if that made sense given the size and complexity of the city, when in addition to the bell words filtered down to them. English and Turkish, but both repeating the same thing. Fire! Yangin!