“Oh, no!” Sunni cried out in horror.
“We can’t stop now. Go on!”
They struggled into the overgrown street, following the trail of bent foliage and decapitated branches. When they came to a somewhat more open section of street, Blaise could see a suspicious glow beyond the next bend. At last they came upon one house, seemingly intact, that blazed with light on the three lowest of its five floors. One window on the fourth floor was lit and the top floor was in darkness. But the most intriguing thing was the object hanging from a pole outside the main door: the letters HV wrought in iron.
Sunni edged close to a ground-floor window. “It’s a workshop, full of tools and things. Hey, that looks like the Oculus!”
Blaise peeked in and saw the half-finished metal object on a workbench. “Looks exactly like it.”
“Didn’t Munro say the name of the guy who made it for Corvo?” Sunni whispered.
“Yeah. I don’t remember it but those initials ring a bell,” he said, wrinkling his forehead. “Was it Harry? No, Henry…”
“Henryk!” said Sunni.
“Yeah, that’s it. And his workshop’s full of sailors. We have to get past them and see what’s inside.”
“There are too many of them down here. But maybe there’s another way.” Sunni scurried to the opposite side of the street and gestured to him. “Look. The two houses next door have had their top floors busted open. Their roofs are gone.”
He knew where she was going with this. “Maybe there’s a way we can climb through from up there.”
They sneaked in next door and found the house was a shell, empty of any furniture or decoration. Getting up the first four floors was no problem, but as they climbed up to the fifth-floor landing, they found living bushes instead of a door.
“A hedge.” Blaise ran his hands over the prickly twigs. “It’s pretty even, like it’s been trimmed.” He moved alongside it. “And there’s an opening.”
As he stepped through the gap, Sunni followed. “It could be a maze,” he said.
“You mean the maze from Arcadia,” she replied grimly. “The one with invisible predators in it.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” he said.
“I’ll go first,” said Sunni. “You’d better keep your eyes peeled for anything behind us.” She took the first right turn, guiding them through junctions and turns until the maze walls gave way to bricks and mortar again.
“That wasn’t the whole of the maze we went through before,” Blaise whispered. “It’s like it’s been pulled apart.”
Sunni sighed. “Corvo’s magic is getting pulled apart.” From the dim top-floor landing of Henryk’s house, they tiptoed downstairs to the room where light shone from behind a half-opened door.
Through the crack, Blaise was surprised to see that the room was a makeshift artist’s workshop with a rickety easel in the corner and some sketches of trees and Dutch houses pinned to the wall. He heard the clank of cutlery against china and a man inside grunting as he gobbled food down.
Sunni put her finger to her lips and edged in against the door. Blaise moved in next to her, desperate to see around the corner.
After more slurping and smacking sounds, a man’s voice asked, “Can you not eat in a more gentlemanly manner? You are like an animal at the trough.”
This voice, with its slight accent, filled Blaise with loathing. Before today he had believed they would never cross paths with Soranzo again, but here they were with only a slab of wall between them.
Soranzo’s companion laughed and continued chewing lustily. When he finally spoke, Blaise nearly collapsed with shock. He grabbed Sunni by the hand and squeezed tight to stop her from making a sound.
“My friend,” said Angus Bellini in a hoarse voice. “I’ve been trapped on an island where the niceties of life didn’t matter.”
“And I awoke to find myself trapped in this Amsterdam after more than four hundred years,” Soranzo retorted. “Four hundred years in a dark dream, waiting for the light to return!”
“At least you woke up to a meal fit for a king,” said Angus.
“Fit for an emperor!” Soranzo said. “You say you are called Angus Bellini.”
“Yes.” Angus slurped something. “And you’re Soranzo. I suppose I should be surprised to meet you, but after everything that’s happened to me, I’m not.”
“You look very much like a former associate in Venice, also a Bellini.”
Angus growled, “Let me guess… Maffeo Bellini, the painter you used to get information out of Marin, that snotty-nosed apprentice of Corvo’s? I’m not Maffeo – and I’m no reincarnation of him either.”
“Of course not. But perhaps you are his descendant. We can help each other in the way Maffeo and I did,” said Soranzo with a smile in his voice. “You have just come out of Corvo’s painting. You know things.”
“Mmm.” Angus chewed something else. “Now since Corvo is not answering me no matter how loud I shout his name, you can tell me where I am, how I got here and how to get out.”
Blaise could hear the interest in Soranzo’s voice. “How could Corvo answer you?”
“Because he controls everything. He banished me onto an island and now he’s taken me off it, right? How else did I end up in this place?”
“He did not bring you here.” Soranzo paced impatiently across the floor. “You are in a shadowland that Fausto Corvo painted onto a piece of glass. With a flame behind it and a certain special lens, a part of this place can be shown on a wall.”
“We call that a projection in my world,” said Angus.
“At my command this projection is being shown on top of The Mariner’s Return to Arcadia and it is digging into Corvo’s secret under-paintings, mixing them together and merging them with this shadowland of Amsterdam.”
Blaise could hear the satisfaction in Soranzo’s voice. Sunni shook her head grimly and squeezed his hand.
“You mean this projection pulled me off the island where Corvo dumped me?” said Angus.
“Yes, in a way.”
“And how do I get out of here?”
“I will show you how to leave—” Soranzo began.
“Hallelujah.” Angus interrupted with an abrupt handclap.
“But you must do something for me first.”
At this, Blaise exchanged a withering look with Sunni.
“Go on,” said Angus.
“You must first show me where Corvo hides,” said Soranzo. “The actual Fausto Corvo, not some shell he animated.”
“Hmm.” A chair was shoved backwards. “I take it you think this projection will expose his hideaway.”
“I hope it will,” Soranzo said. “We shall find it together.”
Blaise squirmed and Sunni tugged on his hand.
“Because I know what his hiding place looks like and you don’t,” Angus said.
“Yes.” Blaise heard the iciness in Soranzo’s reply. “And I know how to leave this shadowland and you do not.”
“True.”
“I will show you something.” Footsteps crossed the room and there was the sound of furniture moving. “Do you know this man?”
“Lorimer!” Angus’s chair scuffed the floor again. “He’s my cousin. What’s he doing here? Why have you got him tied up?”
Muffled cries could be heard in the background as Soranzo said, “He will not reveal his reasons for coming to this place. And little do I care.”
“Then give him to me as part of our deal,” said Angus. “Without the gag and restraints.”
“Very well, but if his young friends do not follow my orders, he may stay trapped here anyway,” said Soranzo evenly. “And you will be as well.”
“What young friends?”
“Miss Sunniva and Master Blaise, who are in the Mariner’s Chamber at this moment, making certain the projection shines onto The Mariner’s Return to Arcadia.”
Angus exploded. “Those two kids are in charge? And you trust them?”
“They ha
ve no choice since their teacher is my prisoner,” Soranzo said. “That is correct, is it not, Lorimer Bell? Ah yes, he is nodding.”
Blaise squirmed and Sunni tugged on his hand.
“If I know those kids, they’ll be up to something,” Angus said sourly. A chair scraped and more footsteps thundered across the room.
“What can they do?” asked Soranzo. “If they stop the projection, Lorimer Bell will be trapped here. If they come after Lorimer Bell, I will crush them.”
“With my help,” fumed Angus. “Those kids and I have unfinished business.” He muttered under his breath and said, “There you go, Lor, you can open your mouth now.”
“I hope to heaven that Sunni and Blaise stay in the Mariner’s Chamber,” Lorimer cried out. “And you keep your word to let us go, Soranzo.”
“I always keep my word,” Soranzo said contemptuously. “Then it is settled. You show me the way to Fausto Corvo and I show you the way back into your century.” Soranzo’s footsteps echoed as he crossed the room again. “And one more thing. I will not tolerate betrayal, Bellini. Do not think of attempting escape with Lorimer Bell.”
Angus scoffed, “Don’t worry. I’m not sticking my neck out for him.”
“What?” Lorimer was incredulous.
“You feel no sympathy for your blood cousin, Bellini?” asked Soranzo.
“No,” said Angus. “What are you even doing here anyway? Answer me that, Lor.”
Chapter 18
In the Mariner’s Chamber, the three spirits transfixed Munro as they became four, then five, then six growing, hollow-eyed figures, each holding his weapon of choice. They faded in and out, pulsating in the dark, but became clearer with each minute that went by.
Munro put his camera down and watched them. He had more than enough photos but his dream of getting information from these spirits was trickling away. Without the Ouija board he was lost. He could not think of a way to question them out loud without enraging them. If they were all bounty hunters and spies who had gone in to find Corvo’s magical paintings, as he suspected they were, they had all died on the labyrinth because they had failed.
What should he do? Ask them their names with no chance of hearing them? Compliment them on something? He couldn’t think of anything.
To his surprise a seventh ghost appeared, much like the others and just as intent on staring at Munro.
The spirit photographer shifted uneasily and took a few half-hearted shots of this new addition. He told himself to buck up and interact. He’d never get another chance.
“Gentlemen, there are seven of you here,” he said boldly. “You each have one thing in common. You were all inside Fausto Corvo’s painted world. Did you cross paths with each other at all?”
At the suggestion that there were others present, the spirits’ mouths opened in silent war cries, triggering an ancient thirst to dominate. The first phantom to explode with rage swung his sword round, his broken teeth gritted. The rest followed immediately, blindly fighting each other and whipping up a windstorm that howled round the painted ceiling beams. The Mariner’s Chamber was clogged with the seven gigantic spirits, parrying and thrusting, trying to destroy their competitors.
“Gentlemen!” Munro called against the rushing wind. “Please stop this! It is time for you to go back where you came from! Please return to the other side NOW!”
Ignored and drowned out, Munro could only stand and gape as the wraiths morphed and shape-shifted, shrank and expanded, passing around him and even through him. He shuddered as the first spirit flew through his chest and he was filled with the dead man’s bloodlust and greed. The others passed through too, whispering of their hatred and envy in Italian and French and languages he could not recognise.
Munro’s camera fell out of his hand and clattered to the floor in pieces. He dropped to his knees to retrieve the precious object. That was when he saw Lexie huddled under the bench, the white X as bright as a target across her terrified face.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
Lexie would not move her eyes from the Oculus’s projection on Fausto Corvo’s painting. Munro crawled round to face it, shielding his head from the battling spectres, and stared at it in disbelief. The image on the wall was shifting between light and dark, throbbing with colours and shapes that emerged and then receded. It was neither the Oculus’s projection nor Corvo’s painting. It was writhing and evolving into a new thing.
At that moment, the flame in the magic lantern shuddered and flickered.
The chamber went a shade darker and Munro uttered a horrified, “No!”
“Let us waste no more time,” Soranzo said. “We must find Corvo.”
Fired with adrenaline, Sunni nudged Blaise away from the workshop door and began scampering up the stairs. At that moment, everything went dim, even the candles behind them in Soranzo’s room.
“This cannot happen again!” she heard Soranzo shout. “What are those idiot children doing? They must keep the Oculus’s flame strong!”
Angus mumbled something and there was the sound of furniture being flung aside but Sunni paid no attention. All her attention was focused on getting up the stairs quietly, but it was not to be. Near the top landing she tripped on the hem of her costume and went down hard on one shin.
All went quiet in the room behind them. She crawled up the last few steps and got to her feet. In the dim light Blaise took her arm and guided them back into the hedge maze.
Someone left Soranzo’s room and took a few tentative steps up the stairs. Sunni prayed he would not follow and hissed in Blaise’s ear, “Faster!”
Then came the clatter of leather on wood as heavy feet ran up the stairs and came after them. The footsteps slowed as their pursuers entered the maze, feeling through the hedges the same way they had.
Blaise pulled Sunni round another turn and collided with a plaster wall that had no opening. They hunched there like two petrified animals, shaking and breathless.
The change in the darkness was imperceptible at first, but gradually Sunni could make out the open roof and the stars in the sky above. Their pale light showed a half-broken wall belonging to the house next door.
“Was Ishbel trying to mess with the Oculus again?” Sunni whispered.
“Maybe,” he whispered back. “But Munro must have fixed its flame before it went out completely.”
Men’s voices rumbled up behind them and a torch now glowed through chinks in the dense hedges.
“Quick!” Sunni jumped to her feet and climbed over the crumbling wall. They crouched down to listen.
“What is it?” Angus’s voice sounded further away.
“Nothing,” said Soranzo, alarmingly near. “A dead end.”
“You saw someone.”
“I saw a white shape at the top of the stairs.”
“Doesn’t sound like one of Corvo’s monsters. Let’s keep going.” Angus was unimpressed. “Hurry up, Lor. And by the way, Soranzo, I want to know what happened to my pigs.”
“I know nothing about any pigs!”
When their voices had faded away, Blaise said, “They might hang around outside hoping to catch us when we come out.”
“I know.”
“So let’s go back through Henryk’s house and look around the room they were in.”
Sunni shook her head. “Why?”
“I just want to see something. Two minutes and then we’ll see if they’ve gone.”
“Only if the coast is clear,” she replied, not convinced, but she let him lead her out of the maze and down the stairs.
The shabby workshop was empty, except for a mess of bones and fruit pits littering the table, and lit by a single lamp. Blaise stealthily looked out of the window. “They’re moving away and the sailors are leaving too. Soranzo’s at the front and Angus is with him. He’s so hairy he looks like a yeti. And Mr B is limping behind them.”
Cords still dangled from a chair in a corner. A balled-up cloth gag lay discarde
d on the floor. Otherwise there was hardly anything in the room except a few sketching and painting materials on a crooked shelf, the easel and a table with some simple chairs.
“What did you want to look at?” Sunni asked, noticing pieces of sharpened red, ochre and brown chalk on the shelf.
“These.”
Blaise went to a sheaf of sketches pinned up on a nail by the rickety easel. He took them down and brought them into the lamplight.
She shrugged. “Why?”
“Because I’ve seen them before,” he said. “I picked them up off the floor of the workshop in the Venice shadow-land and the clone burned them. And when we were in the tavern in Prague, some guy had this one.” Blaise pointed at a sketch of a landscape with some cows.
“Huh?” Sunni examined it with him. “Henryk wasn’t an artist, was he? He built the Oculus and metal things like that.”
“These sketches are signed by someone called Bertram Rabanus.” Blaise paused and slowly repeated, “Rabanus. I wonder…”
Sunni turned over another sketch and pointed at some handwritten words. “Hey, look.”
VYLNLUG LUVUHOM GUULN
“Oh boy,” Blaise murmured. He flipped over the others and found two with the words:
VYLNLUG LUVUHOM UJLCF
VYLNLUG LUVUHOM GYC
“The same nonsense as in Venice and Prague,” she said. “Why do they keep showing up?”
“More clues for the Emperor?” Blaise pinned the sketches back on the wall and shook his head. “Stupid to waste time on this with everything else going on.”
“No, it’s not.” She sighed. “But we have to concentrate on getting Mr B away from Soranzo.”
“We’ll get him back,” said Blaise. “I know we will. Come on!”
But a small voice inside Sunni was sceptical.
At his suggestion, they went back up into the maze and left through the house next door, just in case any guards were left downstairs in Henryk’s house. Cautiously, they entered the street and set off.
The Shadow Lantern Page 14
