A drum roll sounded from the orchestra pit and for the first time Ben’s eyes made out the faint square of a trapdoor in the middle of the stage, equidistant from the four savage contestants.
The trapdoor fell away and after a few seconds a platform rose into view. Standing on it were two figures. One armed with a trident, the other with a short Roman sword.
The audience erupted with glee. Except for Ben and Lucy.
They had found Ghost and Jago Moon.
Although Jago Moon was blind, many Legionnaires had learned to their cost that he was a dangerous man to put into a corner. Moon had trained his ears to such a level of sensitivity that his lack of sight ceased to be a setback at all. Moon brought his right arm back in a V-shape, holding the short stabbing sword horizontal with the floor. Shifting his weight onto his right leg, Moon slid into a martial arts stance, his open left hand stretched out before him for balance. At his side, Ghost held his trident in a double-handed grip, ready to lunge.
Moon heard the squeak of the hinges as one of the four animal pens was opened, followed by the rattle of a chain as a beast was released into the open centre of the cage. Recognizing its relative freedom and the meal that had been placed in front of it, the lion channelled all of its energy into its back legs, preparing to pounce. Its fierce amber eyes never once left Moon as it launched into the air.
Moon heard it coming and sidestepped at the last instant, then sprang up into the air himself and brought the round pommel of his sword down firmly on the lion’s muzzle. Ghost leaped back at the same time, bringing up the trident, but the lion was too wily to allow itself to be speared that easily.
Stinging from Moon’s blow, the lion gave a mighty roar which filled the theatre to the rafters. Ghost plunged his trident towards the animal’s face but the lion batted the weapon away and then retaliated by slashing at Ghost with its claws. Ghost took three rapid steps backwards, which brought him out of the arc of the lion’s paw but unfortunately within reach of the silverback gorilla. With a guttural roar, the giant ape reached through the bars of its own cage and caught Ghost squarely on the side of the head with a huge black fist, knocking him to the floor. Ghost jumped back up, but his head was spinning and he staggered again, stumbling perilously close to the lion. The crowd gasped with excitement.
Moon heard all of this and threw himself into a diving roll, which brought him up behind the lion. This time using the flat of his blade, Moon delivered a powerful strike to the lion’s back leg, making the creature turn its attentions on him instead.
“You’re Sweet’s prisoner, just like me,” Moon breathed. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but I’m not gonna let you eat us, either.”
The lion shook its shaggy mane in discomfort and then sprang at the blind man. With astonishing agility, Moon dropped down onto his back so that he could halt the lion’s attack with his feet, bending his own legs and kicking out. The lion took the full force of Moon’s kick in its sternum and fell back, yelping.
Ghost ran to Moon’s side and helped the old man back up. Together they returned to the middle of the arena, panting with exertion.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Moon yelled.
The crowd jeered and booed. The winded lion paced back and forth, its tail flicking ceaselessly. Its chain was still slack; all it had to do was wait for its moment for revenge.
“Release the bear,” ordered Sweet from the safety of his royal box.
The bear was as old and irritable as Moon himself. It stood on its hind feet and rocked slowly like a heavyweight boxer choosing when to land the killer blow. It lowered its head in a fearsome growl, drops of hot spit spraying as it did so.
Ghost looked over his shoulder and saw that the lion had started padding towards them. Moon and Ghost stood back to back, silently turning in a circle, facing death in every direction.
The bear made the first move. It dropped onto all fours with such weight that the whole stage shook. Then it ran towards the Watchers, its gums drawn back to reveal a mouthful of savage teeth. There was nothing that Ghost and Moon could do except fall back. Moon stumbled as his legs tangled with Ghost’s and the crowd drew in a collective breath. The bear only stopped because it had reached the end of its chain. Its handlers groaned with the effort as they struggled to hold it back.
The bear lifted its front legs again and swung at Moon, this time catching the blind Watcher a glancing blow that sent him reeling. Moon slumped to the ground, his hand going to his forehead and coming away red with blood. Which was when the lion sprang again.
In a flash, the enormous cat was standing over Moon, its jaws wide. Instead of backing away and surely being bitten, Moon flung his strong arms around the lion’s neck and attempted to get it in a headlock. The lion flung its head from side to side, throwing Moon with it. The old man clung on, but his grip was loosening… Moon’s face was deep in the lion’s fur, away from the fury of the snapping teeth. He could smell its musky scent, could feel the blood pumping through its veins, the muscles rippling beneath the skin. It was a beautiful animal, Moon thought as his strength failed. There was no shame in losing this battle…
Ghost had no choice. Moon couldn’t hold on much longer. Keeping out of reach of the bear’s swinging paws, the young Watcher leaped high and sadly thrust his trident into the lion’s side in a last ditch effort to save his friend.
The lion’s roar of agony was deafening.
Perhaps animals have their own language. Or perhaps the sounds of pain need no translation. Either way, all the beasts responded. The bear bellowed. The gorilla pounded its fists against the drum of its chest. The Feathered Man lifted its head and shrieked a horrible curse.
“Release them all,” roared Sweet.
“Lucy, you’ve got to try to help them. Carter and Pa are making their approach now.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got to face Sweet,” said Ben, surreptitiously drawing out his crossbow.
“No!” Lucy hissed between her teeth. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I might never get this close to him again,” said Ben. “I could destroy the crown now.”
“Or you could get yourself killed.”
“That’s the risk I have to take.” Ben gave her a wan smile. “You know the prophecy. Does it read as if the Hand of Heaven is a long-term job?”
“What are you going to do?” asked Lucy.
“Make it up as I go along,” said Ben. “The same as always.” He loaded his crossbow with a bolt which had a coil of thin rope attached. “I’m going to fix this rope into the ceiling, swing across the gap and destroy the crown before anyone can react.”
The crowd exploded into cheering as the Feathered Man took to the air and hovered over the two ailing Watchers. Moon’s head was bleeding freely and Ghost’s leg had been raked by the bear’s claws. Ben could see Carter and Pa in the midst of the mob, both desperately trying to manoeuvre themselves towards the stage without starting a fight on the way. Valentine and Nathaniel were hopefully backstage somewhere, but at that instant Ben knew that it was all down to him and Lucy.
“Shoot him then,” urged Lucy. “You’ve got the crossbow, just do it.”
“And then the crown will be picked up and placed on some other lunatic’s head and we’ll be no better off. It has to be this way, Lucy. Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Ben carefully aimed the crossbow at the ceiling and let loose his bolt. It flew straight and true. He climbed up on the rail, readying himself to make the swing before any of the audience realized what was happening.
Lucy planted a small, soft kiss on his cheek.
Like all Watchers, they had been trained to run across rooftops, to jump the gaps, to land like cats and live to tell the tale. Now they had to put those skills into practice. Lucy clambered up on top of the rail and began to run along it like a tightrope walker, scampering along the lip of the scalloped boxes and finding footholds in the gilt plasterwork, until she was within jumping distance of the stage. W
hen she could go no further, Lucy leaped out and grabbed the curtain rail over the stage. At the same time Ben grabbed the rope in both hands and flew over the audience like a trapeze artist. And the spectators loved it.
“More!” they applauded.
Lucy swung herself from the curtain rail across to one of the beams that ran horizontally from one wing of the stage to the other and pulled herself up on top of it. Sandbags were stored on the rafters, used for raising and lowering backdrops. She worked one free, aimed carefully, then dropped it down on the bear’s head. The huge animal was dazed, buying Ghost and Moon precious seconds.
Meanwhile, Ben’s swing carried him down and then up, until he was in line with the royal box. Time froze. There was only him and Mr. Sweet in the whole universe.
Even through the disguise of Ben’s blackened hair, Sweet recognized his nemesis.
Ben saw the blaze of fear in Sweet’s eyes as the tyrant understood that this could be the end of his reign.
Then the crossbow bolt came loose from the ceiling.
And Ben fell.
With a cheer the crowd broke Ben’s fall, assuming that his entrance was all part of the show. But the hands that reached for him did not come with kindness. Ben found himself tossed up in the air and pulled in all directions, as if he was a stick being fought over by dogs.
Above the stage, Lucy continued to aim her sandbag missiles, alternating between bombing the beasts inside the cage and the animal handlers outside. The gorilla was the master of the cage now. It stalked the central open cross and then climbed the bars, while the Feathered Man smelled the blood of the ailing lion and swooped in to finish what Ghost had started. Egged on by his drunken friends, someone in the audience threw an empty beer bottle at the gorilla. The glass smashed against the bars of the cage and the huge ape roared, shaking the bars in a furious attempt to reach his assailant. The strongmen in their leotards looked on with terror as the bolts that pinned the steel cage to the stage started to strain in their sockets, the wood splintering with each jolt.
Moon and Ghost were just about holding their own against the bear, but Lucy could see that they couldn’t go on much longer. One blow from the bear’s huge paws or one bite from those jaws and that would be the end. Valentine and Nathaniel still hadn’t appeared – they had to be having problems of their own. Jonas had given up trying to get to the stage surreptitiously and was racing forwards, using the backs of the chairs as stepping stones and ignoring the cries of protest. Carter had found his own unique way, using his formidable claw to swing beneath the boxes.
No one had seen Mr. Sweet draw his revolver.
“Die, Ben Kingdom. Die!” Sweet shouted. Then he pulled the trigger, letting off round after round into the crowd.
The gorilla howled. The bear roared. The audience screamed.
And the Lyceum Theatre descended into pandemonium.
Shots rang out and all around Ben there were cries of agony as Sweet’s bullets struck his own subjects. Ben dropped to the floor and shielded his head with his arms to prevent himself from being trampled as the crowd began to surge towards the exits like a herd of startled animals. First one man then another was knocked over the balcony in the confusion, but the mass evacuation didn’t even slow.
Carter reached the stage and leaped over the heads of the confused musicians in the pit. “This is your cue to run,” he suggested to the bemused conductor, even as the orchestra threw down their instruments and rushed to get away. Jonas barrelled into the nearest of the animal handlers, grabbing him with both arms and hurling him to the ground. Another of the strongmen moved to intercept Carter and made a huge show of rolling his fists in the style of a bare-knuckle boxer. The professor looked at the man with something close to contempt and then floored him with a single swinging punch.
“Next!” snapped Carter.
A faintly echoing click, click, click told Ben that Sweet had run out of ammunition and he scrambled back onto his feet. If he could climb the velvet curtains…
Overhead, Lucy released the last of her sandbag missiles. Her aim was good and it landed squarely on the head of one of the animal handlers. The man staggered in ever decreasing circles and then collapsed. Now with no more missiles to drop, Lucy launched herself instead. She landed neatly on one of the mustachioed men, locking her legs around his neck. The man struggled to shake her off but Lucy only increased the pressure until he fell unconscious and slumped in a heap. She didn’t have time to enjoy her victory though, as two more of the strongmen approached her. Lucy extended her quarterstaff with a flick of her wrist. She rapped the first strongman soundly on the temple and then jabbed the second in the solar plexus. Four men out of action. Lucy dusted her hands with satisfaction.
The remaining strongmen took this opportunity to make a break for it. They ran straight into Valentine and Nathaniel, who were just emerging from the wings. The Watchers were ready with their quarterstaffs, but the men didn’t want to fight, they just wanted to get away. Lucy didn’t blame them.
The Feathered Man was screaming. It had grown bored of the taste of lion. Now that it was no longer restrained by the strongmen tugging on its chain, the fallen angel flew up to the roof of the cage. Lucy saw the sinews on its long, spindly arms as it used all of its strength to strain against the bars. With a shriek that was part effort, part triumph, the Feathered Man was able to bend the bars in the roof just enough for it to snake its body through the gap. Once out, it unfurled its wings and flew up to squat on the balcony, dragging its chain behind it. Lucy shuddered. The horrible creature gave the impression that it had finished its theatre supper and was on the lookout for dessert.
And all the while the bear and the gorilla closed in on Moon and Ghost.
The only way to get the trapped Watchers out was through a doorway of iron bars at the front of the cage, secured with a sturdy padlock. Valentine searched the unconscious strongmen for a key, but Carter couldn’t be bothered to wait. Three chops from his claw and the padlock gave way.
Carter opened the gate and stepped into the cage, extending his hand to Jago Moon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Anger had steadily been building up inside the bear and it chose that moment to charge. Moon performed a rolling dive, which took him out of the bear’s path, but landed him beside the gorilla. The huge silverback flared its nostrils and pushed out its chest as it started to advance on the old Watcher, forcing him to retreat into the furthest corner.
Ghost had troubles of his own. The bear was growing berserk, swinging at the young Watcher with insane fury. Ghost ducked, but not soon enough. The bear caught him a glancing blow which sent him flying. Nathaniel jumped in through the open cage door and whacked the animal soundly on the snout with his staff – he didn’t want to hurt it, but he had to get his friends out of danger. The bear yelped and staggered backwards, giving Ghost just enough time to dart out through the open gate, where Jonas was waiting to help him to safety. Ghost’s big brown eyes said everything that his silent mouth couldn’t.
Meanwhile, the gorilla continued to advance on Moon. The animal was snorting heavily and its black lips curled back to reveal pink gums and sharp white teeth. It was quick too. Each time Moon made to get round it, the ape blocked his path…
While this was happening beneath him, Ben was halfway up the stage curtains, climbing hand over hand. There was still a chance that he could get to Sweet…
With a fearsome roar, the bear spotted the open gate and loped towards it. The young Watchers dived aside as it burst through. The bear shook its mighty head, gave another roar and then blundered away towards the wings, knocking over a limelight in its hurry to be free.
Ben saw the lamp spill its burning contents. There was a long second of silence, followed by a whump as the velvet curtains caught fire. Moon heard the awful sound of the conflagration before he felt the heat.
It took half a heartbeat for the pillar of flames to reach Ben’s feet. Ben had no choice. He threw himself clear, landing
awkwardly and painfully on the stage. A scream filled the theatre, but it didn’t come from Ben’s lips.
It was Sweet who was wailing, arms up to protect what remained of his face, reliving his worst nightmare.
The Lyceum was falling down around them.
Ghost was out of that hateful cage but he had only gone two paces when he lurched haphazardly.
“He’s concussed,” said Carter, “the bear has knocked him senseless. Nathaniel, Lucy, Valentine, get him out of here… Go! All of you. There’s nothing more you can do here. I’ll save Moon, trust me.”
Valentine and Nathaniel supported Ghost between them. They began to move and Ghost moaned with pain. “Easy does it, old chap,” said Valentine. “We’ll soon get you out of this bally place.”
Burning swathes of curtain were falling to the stage, starting yet more fires. The wings were already impassable. In a few minutes, the theatre would be an inferno.
“Look sharp!” said Jonas, giving one of the unconscious strongmen a kick in the side to wake him. “We can’t let them burn.” Ben joined his pa and together they roused the animal handlers so the brutes could make their own escape.
Ben flicked his eyes towards the royal box. Sweet was gone.
All Ben wanted to do now was rescue Mr. Moon, but an awful creaking sound drew his attention upwards. Flames were already racing across the ceiling and it took Ben a moment to realize that the noise was coming from the impressive crystal chandelier. The fire had weakened the rope that held it up and the huge weight of the cut glass was about to go crashing to the floor. Nathaniel and Valentine were almost directly in its path, cradling Ghost between them. Lucy was only a pace behind.
“Look out!” Ben shouted.
Lucy reacted first. She pushed the others out of the way, but put herself in the line of danger.
The chandelier smashed to the ground, trapping Lucy’s legs beneath its metal arms and sending a hundred broken crystals scattering. Jonas jumped down off the stage and ran to her. Bracing himself, he took the chandelier in his big hands and heaved it up. The effort showed on his contorted face and the proud veins on the side of his neck.
The City of Fear Page 14