753795.
I broke it down into two blocks of three so that it would be easier to remember. 753 and 795. I kept repeating them over and over. As soon as I got the chance, I planned to write it down.
The door clicked open and Michael stepped inside. After checking that no one had seen us enter, I followed.
The lights came on automatically and as soon as we were inside Michael turned to close the door, trapping me. His face was only inches from mine.
“Now, what was it that you were looking for?”
753795.
“A bracelet. The clasp was faulty. I’m sure I had it in here last.”
“Are you sure?” he brushed the hair off my face, looping it back over my ear. “Sure it wasn’t downstairs. In the basement?”
I went to go around him but he moved to block me. All that basketball practice had paid off.
He said, “You know, I don’t think there ever was a bracelet.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t much, I’ll agree. But I’d really like to look for it.”
“No. I think it was all an excuse.”
“An excuse?”
Did he suspect something? More to the point, was he going to tell anyone?
“Yeah. Don’t pretend you’re all innocent. You knew why I invited you here tonight.”
“I thought your father was the one who invited me.”
“Nah. He hates that little dwarf guy you came with. Says he’s a jinx. Let’s just say, you were top of my guest list.”
I felt Michaels’ hand brush against my hip.
Oh no.
“That’s why you came up here in the first place. Hoping I’d follow you.”
He certainly wasn’t lacking in confidence now.
I quickly slipped past him and went to stand over in the middle of the room.
I said, “Look, the bracelets clearly not here. I’m grateful for you letting me look around but now I think we need to get back to the party, yeah?”
He came forward with his hands raised. “There’s no need to be like that. C’mon, there’s a sofa over here.”
As he made to grab me I caught hold of his wrists. “Michael, no.”
He lunged at me with his head, and for a moment I thought he was trying to bite me. I uttered the words of the Vertigo spell and everything changed. I let go of him and stepped backwards. He tried to pursue me but mis-timed his step and started to fall forward. I got a hand out to try and catch him but he was heavier than he looked.
He hit the floor and lay still.
“What’s happening?”
“Just stay where you are.”
When he tried to push himself into a kneeling position, his arms wobbled uncontrollably and he collapsed.
“Did you put something in my drink?”
“Those cocktails must have been stronger than they looked. Now you stay there and I’ll be back in a minute.”
*
“And how old is this Michael?” Millie was asking.
I was embarrassed knowing that she’d heard everything.
“Old enough to know better,” I said.
“Fourteen,” Macrory chipped in. “He’s fourteen.”
Even younger than I thought.
“But he’s very big for his age.”
I locked the door after me, knowing that even if Michael did manage to drag himself across to the door he wouldn’t have the necessary motor skills to operate the key-pad. Now I was making my way up to the second floor. I’d wasted valuable time dealing with Michael but there was nothing I could do about that now. I was feeling quite pleased with the way I’d handled the situation. I’d used the least intrusive spell possible, certain in the knowledge that the only damage he’d likely suffer would be to his ego.
I paused at the top of the stairs. There was a closed-circuit camera covering the next landing although it was pointing it the wrong direction for the moment.
“How are we with the security system,” I asked.
“It comes and goes,” Millie said. “We could perhaps do with …”
This time, I managed to get my ear bud out before Macrory started ringing the cow-bells. I replaced it just as Millie was saying, “Can you hear me, Bronte. You’re clear to go.”
The floor lay-out up here looked different to the plans and I had to take a moment to better orientate myself. The lighting was very subdued up here with individual art-works picked out along the walls. The whole place emanated a quiet calm but that was completely the opposite to how I was feeling.
I stood still, uncertain how to proceed. I had finally worked out where the safe room was located. I could see it at the end of the next corridor. But I could also see the two men standing guard outside.
“How long have I got left?”
“Three minutes fifty six seconds.”
“I’m going to need a bit longer.”
“Have you been spotted?”
“Not yet, but it looks like Cardoza was expecting us.”
“How many?”
“Two of them.”
I was deciding whether retreat might be my best option when my phone rang.
I couldn’t get it out fast enough. The guards started to turn just as I stepped into an alcove display of earthenware pottery.
I pressed ‘Ignore’ but it started ring again almost immediately. I pressed the phone to my ear.
It was Salazar.
“How did you do that? My phone was switched off.”
“So I switched it back on again.”
“But that’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible. Now, do you have the item?”
I held the phone to my chest for a moment while I tried to think.
“Not at the moment.”
“That is very disappointing.”
“I’ll have it in a minute or two. I was just about to get it when you rang.”
“That sounds like a very poor excuse, Miss Fellows. You assured me that I would have the object by eleven o’clock. I have been most patient.”
I struggled to control my frustration. “You’ll have it by eleven.”
When I looked up, I could see one of the guards walking back towards me, unclipping the walkie-talkie from his belt.
This was getting better and better.
I whispered, “I’ll have to ring you back.”
“What are you doing up here?” the guard had his walkie-talkie out.
If he called for assistance the game was up.
“Please, can you help?”
His expression darkened, instantly suspicious. “What’s the problem?”
I pointed down the stairs. “It’s Michael. It’s complicated. We had a bit of an argument and now he’s gone and locked himself in one of the rooms downstairs. The one with the funny key-pad thing.”
He lowered the walkie-talkie and leaned across so that he had a view of the Armoury door. He still wasn’t convinced. He was trying to justify to himself that this really wasn’t his problem. He looked back to the other guard.
I had to raise the stakes.
“He’s taken a knife in there with him. Said he was going to cut himself.”
“Oh, bollocks,” the guard started down the stairs.
The second guard was now half-way along the corridor ignoring me.
“What? What’s wrong now?”
But the first guard wasn’t listening, he was heading for the stairs.
I’m not completely happy with what I did next.
It was the exact same Vertigo spell I’d used on Michael a few minutes earlier, but the effect was much more dramatic. The first guard missed the first step completely, launching himself forward in a flurry of arms and legs, his walkie-talkie flying into the air.
“Pat!” it was the second guard.
He came running down the corridor at full tilt and I didn’t even think this time. The words of the spell just came tumbling out.
I didn’t have time to watch what happened next. I was too busy sprinting down the c
orridor.
753 795. 753 795. 753 759.
I kept repeating the number in my head as I ran.
753 759.
When I reached the door I took a second to catch my breath
Then I entered the code.
There was a soft click and then the door opened.
“Heay,” it was Macrory. “Some of these girls are pretty good at Limbo. I don’t want to worry you but you need to get a move on? ”
“Macrory!” Millie hissed. “Stop distracting her.”
“I’m not distracting anyone. I’m just saying: Cardoza’s been asking after Bronte.”
My hand froze on the door handle.
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him you’d gone to the bathroom.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“He’s coming to find you. I think he knows.”
*
I had no idea what had tipped Cardoza off, but I knew one thing: Macrory wasn’t lying. The fear in his voice was obvious. Which meant that we were nearly out of time.
I had to move fast.
The secure room was an organised mess. Everything was laid out just so. Cardoza would know where every item was, of that I was certain. But that didn’t help me. There were countless boxes stacked one on top of the other. Some of the items were obviously very rare while others were jaw droppingly beautiful. There were two stone figures by the door which looked to be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. Various packages which, when squeezed, felt like various animal body parts. The question that came to mind was: which animal. Over in the corner was a photograph album from some kind of deep-sea fishing expedition only they were armed with harpoons not fishing rods. The variety of items spread about was dizzying and confounding.
But I had gone there to find one specific item and, so far, there was no sign of it.
I panicked at the thought that there might be a hidden safe in the room but a quick examination revealed that idea to be groundless. There were plenty of packages spread around the place, each one large enough to hold the Seelie Blade quite comfortably. Was I supposed to open all of them?
Then I took a moment to think logically.
If I had an item like the Seelie Blade in my possession, where would I keep it?
The first thing to consider was just how dangerous it was. The smallest injury: a nick or a cut would be more than enough to kill someone. I’d seen it happen.
The question was: where would you hide something like that? Particularly if you had an inquisitive son Like Michael who was always prying into things.
That’s when I realised exactly where I’d keep it. Without a shadow of a doubt. In fact, I was so confident I was able to filter out the various admonishments coming from Macrory.
I went around to the front of the desk and saw, as I had expected, that it had a drawer on the right hand side.
Also, as I’d expected, it was locked.
It was a beautiful desk. A lovely walnut veneer. It would cost thousands to buy. And breaking the lock would be a guaranteed way of ruining it.
But that’s what I had to do.
I used a concussive spell to break the lock. It was a horrible thing to have to do, the force of it putting a rather ugly crack in the desk-top itself. The front of the drawer came away in my hand and I had to feel around inside to try and find what I was looking for.
But the knife was there. I recognised the rough parchment it was wrapped in. I looked around for something to hide it in. There was a pile of heavy duty envelopes on the desk. I lifted the knife carefully out of its drawer and slid it inside one of those.
It was only as I was leaving the room that I started at the sound of splintering. Moments later, the desk collapsed in a heap.
*
I didn’t look back, walking purposefully down the corridor, keeping the envelope pressed to my chest. I had to stop myself from hurrying. It wouldn’t do to fall and stab myself at this point.
The two guards were sitting on the first floor receiving medical attention from a man who looked bigger than both of them put together. Just the sight of him made me nervous.
Cardoza was standing behind him, speaking anxiously into his phone.
The big man stood up and pointed at the Medieval Armour room. Then he sat back down and started unrolling a length of bandage.
This was my chance. I waited until Cardoza had moved over to the door before starting down the stairs. I had to cross directly behind him in order to get to the ground floor staircase but by this time Michael had started to rouse himself and was banging on the door, still trapped on the other side of the door making threats about what he was going to do to the first person who opened it. Cardoza told him to calm down and move away from the door but Michael wasn’t in the mood to listen.
Cardoza shook his head as he methodically entered the code.
As I sneaked past, I realised that Macrory had been mistaken earlier. Cardoza had known what Michael’s intentions had been concerning me and, when I couldn’t be found, had suspected the worst.
Had Cardoza been attempting to protect me, then? It was certainly a nice thought. Perhaps I’d misjudged Cardoza in the same way that I’d misjudged his son.
There were a number of people milling about the lobby. Some were in small groups chatting. I stood to one side pretending that I was waiting for someone.
I pressed a finger to my ear.
“Macrory, we need to go, now.”
“I’m coming. I’m coming.”
When I looked, I could see him hurrying through the rear doors at the back of the house, a cocktail in each hand.
Then I heard Millie’s voice.
“I’ve just driven past the front gate. I think we might have a problem.”
*
“Sorry, Millie, you’re breaking up. How many did you say?”
“I’m not sure. I counted four cars and they all looked pretty crowded.”
I looked at Macrory and motioned to his cocktails. After a brief pause, he went over and placed them on the glass table at the centre of the lobby.
“And you’re sure they’re Salazar’s men?” I said.
“Either that or they are the most organised gate-crashers in history.”
I checked the time on my phone. Ten minutes to eleven. I had to make a decision. If I stood there any longer, Cardoza might come down and see me. But then, if I went out the front, Salazar’s men would be all over me in a matter of minutes. I didn’t much like either option.
“What do you think I should do?” I said Macrory.
“I thought the plan was to give it Salazar.”
“That was the idea. I give him the knife and he helps me change Silas back into … Silas.”
“So, what’s changed?”
“Nothing really. We had a sort of deal going and then he changed the deal. He kidnapped Silas.”
“So you think he’s going to stick to this deal then?”
“No. I don’t think he will,” I rubbed my forehead. “I think he’ll just take the knife and forget all about Silas.”
“Which sort of answers your question then.”
“Does it?”
“Yes. Give him the knife and you’re no better off. But if you keep the knife …”
I hesitated. “But he might kill Silas.”
Macrory said, “He doesn’t care about Silas. He could kill him either way. The one thing he does care about is the knife.”
“And I have the knife.”
“Exactly.”
I pressed a finger to my ear and spoke directly to Millie.
“I’ve decided we’re not giving Salazar the knife. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Only, now, I don’t know what to do next.”
There was a long pause.
Then Millie said, “Well, there’s always Plan B.”
“I thought you were joking about Plan B.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We were walking quickly across
the lawn at the rear of the property, pointedly not running. First, I didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention from the various bodyguards scattered around the place and, second, I didn’t think Macrory was capable of running anywhere.
“Can you two still hear me?” Millie was saying.
“Loud and clear.”
“Don’t want to worry you, but you might want to take a look over-head.”
I stopped and looked up into the night sky. At first, I couldn’t see anything.
“What are those?” I asked. “Birds?”
“They’re bloody big birds,” Millie said. “They just came over a minute ago. Frightened the life out of me.”
“Macrory!” I shouted. He hadn’t stopped and was a good way ahead of me by now. “Look!”
He turned with the clear intention of rebuking me for stopping. But then he saw them too and his mouth started to gape.
“Oh my God!” he pointed. “Do you know what those things are?”
Macrory was suddenly energised. He started looking around us.
“Grab a couple of those chairs,” he instructed.
They were plastic garden chairs. I took one in each hand.
He moved over to the volley-ball net and started taking it down. “Help me with this.”
No one tried to stop us. Everyone was watching the skies.
Once we had the net down, Macrory gave it to me to carry but I couldn’t manage the net and the chairs. Reluctantly, he took one of the chairs, carrying it over his head as if he feared it might rain.
“What are those things?” I asked Macrory, I was trying to run without tripping over the net.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Just keep going.”
So then I had to stop and get a proper look.
One of the creatures had landed on the apex of the roof, flapping its wings as it attempted to secure a foothold. A second one was trying to perch on the side of the roof and, in so doing, had scattered slates everywhere, some of them falling to the ground. The third creature had maintained its altitude and was wheeling around even now.
“What’s that other one doing?” I asked.
“Looking for us. Now come on.”
We passed the jacuzzi and made our way down to the poolside. There was a couple sitting there in their bath-robes, sharing a spliff but they didn’t give us a second glance, immured as they were from the events up at the house.
Dark Embers Page 14
