History Keepers: Nightship to China

by Dibben, Damian

  Jake took a deep, calming breath before hurrying after her, and emerged at the top of the grand staircase. The lioness was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Where did she go?’ he asked Felson. The dog appeared as perplexed and unnerved as his master. The life-sized portraits of all the past History Keepers stared at them silently as they went down the stairs. Jake felt sick with worry – Josephine shouldn’t be roaming around when there were so many guests on the island! He had to alert someone. He rushed back to the lawn, but by the time he got there the congregation was standing and the orchestra already playing a Mughal Wedding March.

  ‘Where on earth have you been? What were you doing on the roof?’ Miriam demanded, flushed with anger, as Jake sat next to her in the front row.

  ‘I was told to find Yoyo . . . Miss Yuting.’ He shrugged defensively. ‘I didn’t know she was going to throw herself off the building, did I?’ He was aware that his tone was rude – that it so often was these days when he spoke to his mother. ‘But listen, I’m worried about Josephine, she’s—’

  ‘Just put your clothes on properly,’ Miriam snapped, pulling his scrunched-up turban out of his pocket, unwilling to hear more. She peered round at Yoyo. ‘That girl’s not right in the head.’

  Jake did as he was told, hoping the lioness had taken herself back to her own quarters – though he found himself glancing round the edges of the lawn nervously.

  Suddenly a spontaneous round of applause went up at the appearance of Rose Djones, carried triumphantly on a sedan by four men, including Jake’s dad, Alan, dressed in the Mughal style. Rose – looking like an Indian queen in a headdress and layers of bright crimson silk – reclined on velvet cushions, surrounded by garlands of flowers. The spectacle was only slightly spoiled by the presence of her trusty carpet bag bundled up next to her.

  ‘Do you think I’m mad,’ Rose called down to Miriam as she passed by, ‘marrying a man who folds his socks before he gets into bed?’

  Miriam couldn’t stop giggling. She’d already forgotten all about her little spat with Jake and squeezed his hand in delight.

  The litter bearers carefully set down their load and Alan escorted his sister to the altar, where Jupitus Cole was waiting with a stiff smile that gave the impression he might still make a run for it. The ceremony began: the marriage of Rosalind Aurora Djones to Jupitus Tarquin St-John Seneca Cole.

  It wasn’t until the moment came for the rings to be exchanged that Jake noticed Felson suddenly sit up and prick his ears, then stare at the banqueting table and growl softly. It was covered with a white cloth that went down to the ground, and Jake saw the material rustle as something moved underneath. Then, halfway along, Josephine emerged. With everyone’s eyes on the ceremony, only Jake had seen her. For a moment the lioness stopped, staring at him as she had done in the armoury.

  All at once a little girl – one of Dr Chatterju’s nieces – caught sight of the beast and screamed. The sound was so shrill that everyone turned at once and a great shout went up.

  Josephine was momentarily confused. Then she bounded forward towards the bride and groom. There was a gasp of horror as she sprang towards Rose. The two gold rings, one halfway onto Rose’s finger, went flying into the air. Josephine snapped, her teeth taking hold of the many layers of silk, shaking Rose around like a rag doll.

  2 SUMMER SLAUGHTER

  ROSE THREW HERSELF backwards into Jupitus’s arms, shuddering in horror as the lioness came away with a mouthful of silk, which she spat out. As a mass of people bore down on her, Josephine swung round, skidded on the grass and smacked into the banqueting table, sending the Mont St Michel cake tumbling to the ground.

  ‘Are you all right? Are you hurt?’ Jupitus asked Rose, his voice trembling. She looked down: her gown was shredded and her arms scratched and bleeding, but there was no serious damage. ‘That beast will draw no more blood! A gun!’ he cried. ‘Does anyone have a gun?’ He tore off into the building, leaving Rose in the hands of Alan and Miriam.

  Nathan had already drawn his scimitar and Yoyo had also armed herself with her sword and dagger. Having no weapon, Topaz took hold of a candlestick. They all vied for the best position to strike as Josephine – certainly a pet no longer, but a wild, angry beast – patted the cake with her giant paws, crushing the effigies of the bride and groom. Nathan lunged first, but she dodged him, springing up and landing on the table, making it buckle under her weight. She skidded along, sending everything flying – an eruption of smashed crockery, cutlery and food. When she alighted upon a vast joint of meat, she took it in her jaws. Meanwhile Nathan bounded forward again, sword raised, ready for the kill.

  But Josephine was too wily. She dropped the joint before leaping back to the ground and heading along the lower terrace.

  ‘Where is that woman?’ Jupitus roared with rage, rushing back from the fencing chamber with two pistols in his hand. ‘Oceane Noire!’ he called out. Jake had never seen him so red in the face.

  ‘May I?’ said Nathan, taking one of his guns and heading off in pursuit of the lioness. Jupitus, Topaz and Yoyo followed.

  ‘Wait for me,’ Charlie called out, bringing up the rear, Mr Drake bouncing on his shoulder. ‘She can be stopped without bloodshed, you know . . .’ He couldn’t bear to see animals suffer.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ Jake shouted, arming himself with a sword.

  ‘There’s enough of them already, darling,’ Miriam said, trying to block his path. ‘Why not leave it to one of the professionals?’

  ‘I am one of the professionals, aren’t I?’ he replied tersely, pushing past her.

  He caught up with the others as they followed the track around the Mount. They skirted a turreted watchtower and continued round to the ocean-facing side of the island. Here, the path narrowed, winding between the ramparts on one side and the craggy rocks of the foreshore on the other. They were forced to walk in single file, aware that the beast might leap out at them at any moment. They were on the right path for sure: Josephine had left faint footprints of icing sugar.

  The track led to a low door at the base of a sheer wall of battlements – the back entrance to the interior harbour where most of the Keepers’ fleet was moored. The door was hanging off its hinges where Josephine had crashed through it. Nathan darted through, pistol at the ready. He checked there was no immediate danger and nodded for the others to follow.

  Despite the urgency of the situation, Jake felt a thrill, as he always did, stepping into this dramatic place. It was a vast domed limestone cave, secreted in the very heart of the Mount. A quay curved round one side, lined with a succession of ships of all sizes, their masts bare, rigging furled.

  Nathan edged along the quay and up a flight of stairs to another doorway, which was closed. ‘This is the only exit,’ he called back quietly, ‘so she must be in here somewhere.’

  The six of them scanned the empty decks of the ships. There was no obvious sign of life. ‘We search each in turn,’ Nathan commanded.

  ‘I suggest we use this to stop her,’ Charlie said, scooping up a large fishing net. ‘She has every right to a fair trial.’

  ‘No one appreciates your sensitive side more than I, Charlie,’ Nathan drawled, ‘but the creature did just try to tuck into the bride – not to mention that unfortunate gateau. Use your net by all means; I’ll put my trust in this.’ He brandished his pistol and started his search at the far end of the quay, vaulting up onto the deck of a Norse longboat. Jupitus, Topaz and Yoyo were about to follow suit when a thump came from the hold of the Campana – a square-sailed merchant galley – docked next to her.

  Everyone froze.

  Jupitus cocked his pistol. Yoyo gave him a knowing look and creaked up the steps, her sword clutched firmly in her hand, while Nathan tiptoed across from one deck to the next. An anxious Mr Drake dug his claws into his master’s shoulder. In unison, Nathan and Yoyo threw open the cover of the hold, ready for the kill. But their faces fell.

  ‘Rats. Having their own wedding party, it seems,�
� Nathan deadpanned. ‘Rowdy little things, aren’t they?’

  Jake couldn’t help but smile. Then his face froze as he became aware of a sound just behind him, from the shadows of another ship, the Hippocampus. He turned to see the lioness crouching at the top of the cabin steps. Her lips curled back to reveal her incisors; otherwise she was as still as stone.

  Jake tried a friendly nod of recognition. He might as well have spat at her, for suddenly Josephine launched herself into the air and he felt a rush of air as she leaped off the ship towards him.

  Like lightning, Charlie cast his net over her, slowing her slightly, but she still hit Jake with tremendous impact. His sword went flying as she brought him down, forcing the air out of his lungs.

  She scrabbled with her gigantic paws, trying to free herself from the net. Jake felt her hot breath on his face as she opened her jaws, and he lashed out, hitting her on the nose. He heard a crack of bone, and as she turned, stunned, Jake tried to kick his way free.

  Josephine was just about to lunge for him again when Jake heard a shot ring out, and then another, the second grazing her back. This served only to enrage her further. She sank back onto her haunches and let out a tremendous roar, when Mr Drake dive-bombed her, slashing out with his claws. In the chaos, he got caught in the net, and there was a cacophony of squawking and roaring; Charlie screamed and all the others shouted in alarm.

  Suddenly Jake felt the weight lift off him. He rolled over and saw the lioness charging up the steps, trailing the net behind her, with the poor parrot a blur of colour, still tangled up in it.

  ‘Mr Drake!’ Charlie wailed as she hurtled through the door, smashing it to pieces. He snatched the gun from Nathan and followed swiftly behind.

  From the hall, Charlie looked up at the grand staircase where the portraits of old History Keepers stood guard. He couldn’t see anything at first, but he heard squawks echoing around the vaulted space. He hurried on up the stairs; ahead of him, Mr Drake finally broke free of the net and tried to fly towards him – but his broken wing jerked uselessly and he fell to the floor. Josephine turned and snapped at the bird, but he used his last ounce of energy to flap free, before collapsing and plopping down the steps one by one.

  Charlie’s face was filled with fury. He pointed his gun at the lioness – but his finger froze on the trigger. Could he kill an animal in cold blood?

  His hesitation was fatal. Josephine roared and leaped forward, swiping the gun out of his hand. Charlie’s eyes widened in shock as he toppled backwards; he lost his balance completely and went flying, his shoulder smacking into an oil portrait. Sejanus Poppoloe, the founder of the History Keepers’ Secret Service, was ripped in two, and Josephine, no longer hindered by the net, bore down on Charlie, sinking her teeth into his ankle. Jake heard the bone snap as she flipped him right over, about to start on the rest of him . . .

  Jake lunged forward, picked up the gun and took aim. But an ear-splitting shot rang out from behind him; a cloud of acrid smoke rose into the air. Josephine froze in surprise. Then blood started to seep out of a black hole in her chest – just trickling at first; then pouring, as thick as oil, down the steps. She looked around in confusion, then her legs gave way and her body thumped to the floor. As Jake gazed into her eye, it grew cloudy, flickered one last time, and then she was still.

  Josephine was dead. On this day of celebration, death had come to the Mont St Michel.

  Jake turned to see Oceane Noire coming down the steps. In her hand she held a shotgun – for it was she who had killed Josephine, her own pet. Her face was expressionless as she knelt down and picked up a limp paw. She closed her eyes and then let out a cry of pain, low at first, but building to a crescendo.

  Jake went over to Charlie. His face was pale, but he managed to ask: ‘Mr Drake? Is he . . .?’

  Jake looked round at the lifeless coloured bundle. Topaz was tending to the fallen parrot. He was moving, but it didn’t look good.

  Then he turned to see the wedding party standing in silence at the bottom of the staircase, Rose at the front in her torn wedding gown.

  Oceane picked herself up and, like a zombie, made her way down the steps. Jake had never seen her look so dishevelled, an old shawl thrown over her bony shoulders. At the foot of the stairs she reached out her hand to Rose and stroked her cheek, smearing it with vivid blood.

  Her lips trembled as she asked bitterly, ‘Happy now?’

  3 MONSTER FROM THE DEEP

  ON THE OTHER side of the world, in a far-off part of history, a ship was sailing through the night in the South China Sea. It was a trading junk – in 1612, one of the largest vessels in the world: two hundred feet long, with five masts supporting a cluster of giant fin-shaped sails. The vessel had set off from Canton two nights previously, bound for the ports of Persia and Arabia.

  In a candlelit cabin at the stern of the ship, three distinguished-looking merchants, the owners, sipped tea and pored over maps, charting their route around the world.

  Beneath them, in the many compartments of the hold, was an extremely precious cargo: chests of jade, jet and lapis lazuli; porcelain and ebony; rolls of fine silk and crates of tea, ginger, cinnamon and peppercorns. Guards patrolled the narrow corridors between the compartments.

  Meanwhile, on deck, bare-footed sailors checked the rigging, their brows beading with sweat against the humid night; others sat cross-legged, playing dice. Watchmen in breastplates and pointed helmets kept a lookout across the dark sea for anything dangerous – pirates in particular.

  All was quiet . . . when suddenly there was a huge jolt.

  In the merchants’ cabin, candles were overturned and a cup of tea spilled on a chart of the Indian Ocean. Above them, the sailors froze, some halfway up the rigging, and looked round at their shipmates. The watchmen held their lanterns out over the water to see if they had hit anything. But the vessel was now continuing normally, with the wind in its sails.

  In the hold, one of the guards went along a corridor to investigate a strange sound – a heavy insistent tap coming from the hull. He bent down, his ear to the floor. All at once there was a surge of noise. The wood shattered and a metal tentacle, sharp-tipped, and as thick as a human leg, punched through the timbers, just missing him. A torrent of water gushed in. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the tentacle retreated, sliding back through the hole.

  The three merchants stumbled out of their cabin and looked down into the hold, stunned. They heard a deep rasp from beneath the hull, and suddenly a second steel arm smashed through, cracking open the wall of a compartment; its precious cargo tumbled out. Terrified, the merchants hurried the other way, up the stairs onto the main deck.

  The ship was listing: its stern was sinking, while its prow stuck up out of the water. Many of the sailors and watchmen were clustered together on one side, swords drawn, shouting. The merchants stumbled over, and saw another of the sea creature’s limbs rising up. There was a cry as it reached into the sky before curling round towards the deck. The crew tried to fight it off – and it was only when their swords made contact that they realized it was made of metal! The tentacle took hold of the ship’s rail and pulled.

  The merchants turned and ran across to the other side, where the rest of the sailors were lowering a small skiff. The ship’s owners scrambled aboard and it thumped down onto the water. Immediately another tentacle shot out, smashing the boat to pieces, tossing them all into the water, before reaching up for the other side of the ship.

  The entire vessel, now coming apart at the seams, was drawn down under the water. Two of the masts snapped in two, one tumbling onto the remaining sailors. The ocean churned as the junk quickly disappeared below the surface.

  It was lunch time on the Mont St Michel. Jake sat by Charlie’s bed in the castle sick bay. He’d been watching over his friend for three days, often accompanied by Nathan and Topaz, as they waited for him to wake up properly.

  Josephine had shattered Charlie’s ankle, along with three bones in his foot. The attack
had left him in a state of deep shock. Dr Chatterju had operated on him immediately, and now Lydia Wunderbar was in charge of his recovery. She was the larger-than-life head librarian – as vivacious as she was fearsome – who doubled up as a brilliant nurse (apparently she’d once been a friend of Florence Nightingale).

  ‘Miss Wunderbar, something’s happening,’ Jake whispered, seeing Charlie’s eyes flicker open properly for the first time.

  She approached the bed, and Charlie looked up at them both, blinking in confusion. Then a terrible thought struck him. ‘Mr Drake? Where’s Mr Drake?’

  ‘He’s a very fortunate parrot,’ Lydia said, smiling. She indicated a basket by the bed, containing a poorly looking bird stretched out on plump velvet cushions, wing bandaged in much the same manner as Charlie’s leg. She and Jake watched, tears in their eyes, as Charlie picked up his beloved pet and held him next to his heart.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Jake asked.

  Charlie looked down at his leg uncertainly. ‘I don’t know. How am I feeling, Miss Wunderbar?’

  ‘In time, you’ll make a full recovery,’ she said, ‘but there’ll certainly be no assignments for a while.’

  Charlie nodded grimly; then he remembered something else. ‘It’s all a blur, but I suppose Josephine . . . did she make it after all?’ Despite everything, he couldn’t help feeling dreadful about what had happened. Jake’s face told him the answer. ‘And Oceane?’

  ‘She’s been locked in her room for three days – she’s opened her door just once, to receive a delivery of red wine and cigars.’

  ‘She must be inconsolable,’ Charlie said quietly. ‘What about the wedding? Did Rose and Jupitus tie the knot in the end?’

  Jake and Lydia Wunderbar shared a look. The librarian busied herself cleaning up the sick bay as Jake explained: ‘Actually, they’re not on speaking terms. They had a huge row – Jupitus said something about the garish colour of Rose’s wedding dress being like a red rag to a bull, and she flew off the handle. It ended up with her tossing her engagement ring into the sea.’