by Matt Whyman
“There’s no need for that,” replies Yoshi with a grin, and gestures at the twins. “A little pyrokinesis should cut through it in no time.”
“We can do that,” agrees Blaize, while her sister observes the underpinning overhead.
“If we put our minds to it,” says Scarlett, “we could also blast those spikes until they curl.”
“We should’ve done the same thing to Otto when he first showed up in town,” her sister muses, and then thinks this through for a beat. “Where is the old fool, anyhow?”
Mikhail glances at his wristwatch, if only because her question just caused him to remember something and gasp. For when the troglodytes had first chased them out of here, he had seen the fellow in question. Otto was in the tunnel under Buckingham Palace, he recalls now, and had caused a bit of an obstruction. He looks up at the twins, but thinks twice about sharing his news. For he had also heard what sounded like some kind of police operation in their wake. With nothing to hide but his waistline, Mikhail felt sure that Otto would be released after a stiff grilling, and even put on the first flight home. Even so, the twins had been through more than enough to worry about that. “I imagine he’s caught up in the rush hour,” is all the young Russian decides to tell them. “If you’re new to this city, it can sweep you off your feet sometimes,” he adds.
“Well,” says Blaize eventually, and fixes Mikhail with the kind of look that tells him she’s sure there must be more to his story, “let’s hope it sweeps him out of our lives for a while.”
“Indeed,” her sister agrees, and sizes up the copper pipe. “This is going to take all our concentration.”
Yoshi grins. “Then go to work, girls!”
“Wait a moment!” This is Julius, a note of disquiet in his voice now, and even irritation. “Did Aleister himself put you up to this?”
Yoshi glances across the divide, to where the squealing din has begun to subside. “We should just be grateful to him for making such a sacrifice.”
“Grateful?” The old man’s eyes pinch with fury. “This is the fellow who placed you all on a programme in the Foundation designed to help him unlock the secrets of the Faerie Ring! He’s tricked us, don’t you see?”
“How so?” asks Livia, standing square with Yoshi now. “The way I see things, he saved our bacon, so to speak.”
“And in so doing, he’s laid claim to the seventh waypoint!”
“But only Jenks Junior can unlock it,” protests Yoshi, as the little creature shies away behind Mikhail. “It didn’t work for me.”
“Don’t send me back, sir!” he squeals. “I belongs with you now!”
“But how can you be sure it won’t work for Aleister?” counters Julius. “He’s a powerful old devil, who will stop at nothing until the ring is under his control. Don’t for one minute believe that’s the end of the line for him, my friends. Cheating death appears to be one trick he can perform time and again.”
Listening to the old man flare up about the brute like this, Yoshi finds himself on the defensive. “It may have seemed that way,” he says, “but I reckon there’s a lot more to Aleister than meets the eye. In fact,” he adds, and takes a deep breath, “the same might be said about you!”
For a beat, Julius Grimaldi simply stares at the boy he had taken under his wing. The one who now stands before him wearing the brute’s white mink coat. Finally, he says, “I’m beginning to see a lot of him in you.”
“What does that mean?” Yoshi spits.
“Just that you should be careful, Yoshi,” he says, quietly. “It’s fine to leave your audience spellbound, as Billy and Mikhail will tell you. Just don’t allow yourself to fall for the same simple tricks.”
Yoshi says nothing for a moment, just continues to meet the old man’s eye. “As a street magician I’ve a lot to learn,” he says eventually. “But parkour is in my blood, and right now that tells me this is one crossing that must never be attempted again. Not by me. Not by anyone.”
Julius bows his head, such is the conviction with which Yoshi has just spoken, and nods to himself now. “Then sever the link,” he tells the twins. “And let us pray to the stars tonight that Yoshi is right. For if we have fallen victim to a grand deception, and Aleister is preparing to lay his hands upon the seventh waypoint, we will soon know about it. As will the city above. Now, if you’ll excuse me, a lifetime’s work lies in ruins in the Map Room. It’s time I tried to salvage what is left.”
Yoshi watches the old man turn reluctantly to leave, feeling guilty all of a sudden. The sound of the orchestra continues to seep through the clay, accompanying his departure. He looks around now, at the friends he has amassed in his time underground, but at first only one of them will meet his gaze.
“You’ve opened my eyes to many things,” Mikhail tells him. “I’m an illusionist but I’ve seen stuff here that defies explanation. Now I don’t know what to believe. Is Aleister the bad guy or the good guy?”
“And is he even alive?” adds Livia, with one last glance across the chasm.
“Judging by what we’ve just heard,” says Billy, “I’d say it’s the end of the line for the big man.”
Yoshi folds up the collar of the mink coat; after all this time below ground, the damp is beginning to creep into his bones. In so doing, he senses something stir in his pocket. When My Pretty’s diamond head emerges, his first response is to gasp. It’s only when the snake winds up his arm, and settles like a scarf around his neck that he breathes out once again. “Let’s finish the job and get out of here,” this lost boy says, aware that everyone is looking at him in a new light now. “Even if this does turn out to be a nightmare that’ll come back to haunt us, things always seems better in daylight.”
For Wilf and Ethel
1
Where in the world?
Imagine a mountain under moonlight. Ringed by rock fall and crowned with jagged crags, this is a wild and inhospitable place to be. The night in question is crisp and clear. It means every sound that disturbs the peace can be identified immediately. First there’s the monkey-chatter. Then the parakeets. It’s a background cacophony that spreads far and wide. A tiger roars out of nowhere, as if unable to sleep because of it all, and yet this beast’s complaint goes unheeded. Under cover of darkness, it seems the birds and animals here know no fear.
A flurry of scree is the first indication that all is not as it seems. It rolls away from the uppermost reaches, and tumbles over the winding mountain tracks. Something is clearly shifting, and yet this activity is in no way volcanic. This is quite clear when a rock at the top pops open like a submarine hatch.
A strong light shines out from the inside. Cautiously, two boys raise their heads and take in their surroundings.
“So,” says the kid with the red spiky hair and the nose ring, “are you ready to admit that we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere? I knew we should’ve packed a map before setting off.”
The boy at his side is half-oriental and wholly confused. His name is Yoshi, and this is not at all what he’d expected to find. “Will you keep your voice down!” he hisses. “The last thing we want to do is attract attention.”
“Relax, comrade,” his companion replies, and hoists himself out onto the summit. “Just look at where we are! Nobody’s around at this time of night.” He speaks with a strong Russian accent, which marks him out to all who know him. Even when the moon slips behind a thin veil of cloud, there’s no mistaking Mikhail. “Wow,” he goes on to declare, while admiring the view, “I feel like I’m king of the jungle.”
It certainly is a jungle out there, but this is an urban jungle. London, to be precise, and the jagged peak they have just emerged from stands as the central attraction at the city zoo. The summit of this man-made mountain offers an impressive view. The snag is that it comes at a high price, as the two young tearaways are about to discover.
Just as Yoshi draws breath to urge Mikhail to wise up and be quiet, there’s movement on the dark side of the scarp just below them – fo
llowed by a low, menacing growl.
“Stay where you are,” Yoshi hisses at his friend. “Sounds like something else is about to claim your jungle crown.”
“A lion?” Mikhail’s wide eyes swivel to one side as he hears paws climbing the track now.
“I’m pretty sure there are no lions on this mountain,” Yoshi assures him, and pauses to check for other noises. “But that’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news?” Mikhail is rooted to the spot now. At the same time, the moon emerges from behind a cloud. He dares to look around in the bone-white light, and gasps at the shape clambering into view.
The big grizzly sniffs the scree, its low-slung head bobbing between huge shoulder blades, and then looks up with a grumble. Another bear rounds the track close behind. This one prowls past its companion, both eyes fixed on Mikhail, before rising up on its haunches and roaring at him.
“This isn’t bad news,” the young Russian breathes, struggling to stay calm. “This is, like, the worst news, ever!”
2
We’re not here for your porridge
“Mikhail, you have to get away right now!”
Yoshi’s friend is rooted to the spot. He hadn’t intended to deliver Mikhail into this kind of danger, of course. They were meant to surface through the manhole cover in the road outside the main gates. Yoshi curses himself for not questioning the number of rungs they had climbed to get here. Having lived under London for several months now, he should’ve sensed they were higher than street level. The subterranean honeycomb of viaducts and lost rivers, tube tracks, grottos, vaults and sewers may have seemed like a sprawling tangle when he first sought refuge from the troubles in his life above ground. But now, having explored much of this hidden world for himself, Yoshi felt he knew his way around. Indeed, the boy had found it was quite possible to travel full circle under London’s four quarters without once coming up for fresh air.
Everything was accessible, he had discovered. And that included those places and spaces around the city you weren’t supposed to visit. From the Bank of England to Buckingham Palace, nowhere was off-limits underneath the city streets.
Unfortunately, as Yoshi and his petrified friend Mikhail have just found out to their cost, that also included the summit of Bear Mountain.
Somewhere in the service corridors below the zoo, Yoshi realised, they’d taken a wrong turning. But it wasn’t only the number of rungs they’d just climbed that gave him pause for thought. Midway up the ladder, Yoshi and Mikhail had passed a rack bolted to the wall containing several brooms and a tranquilliser gun. Thinking back, it should’ve been clear that they were climbing into trouble. Then again, he had learned not to be surprised by anything he encountered below ground. From sewer alligators to lost tribes of pig-breeding troglodytes, not to mention ley lines capable of channelling ancient earth magick, it was a weird and wonderful place to be.
Yoshi thinks about scrambling down to grab the gun, but then dismisses the idea out of hand. If he deserts his friend, even for a matter of seconds, the two grizzlies might just decide to make their move.
“This can’t be happening,” says Mikhail, his teeth chattering. “This city is no place for bears!”
In the face of such danger, it’s clear to Yoshi now why the keepers should have this access hatch to hand. You certainly wouldn’t want to be sweeping the summit without it. If the zoo had taken precautions to protect their staff, they had gone to even greater lengths to keep the public safe and sound. A chain link fence surrounds this grand enclosure, as high as the oak trees behind the surrounding walkway, as well as a moat to deter the foolish from attempting to get over.
Sizing up the two grizzlies, just feet from his poor friend, Yoshi can’t think of a single reason why anyone would want to get this close in the first place.
He calls across to Mikhail once again, urging him to get back to the hatch, but the young Russian seems to have gone into shock. He just stands there in a trance. Not even blinking as the two bears swipe at the air and sound off at this intruder.
“Get a grip, Mikhail! Any second now they’re going to pounce!”
With no response from his friend, Yoshi sighs heavily, and heaves himself onto the summit. He closes in on Mikhail, taking it nice and easy despite the upsurge in his heartbeat. The two big bears shift their attention to this boy in the hoodie and combat pants, and then to a point beyond them both.
“C’mon, let’s go!”
With one hand, Yoshi reaches out and touches Mikhail on the shoulder. The young Russian stirs as if waking from a deep sleep. He looks around and then comes to his senses with a jolt.
“Yoshi, behind you!”
The boy spins around. To his horror, he sees yet another bear prowl out of the darkness. This one is much smaller. A cub, perhaps. Indeed, the way it breaks into a trot on seeing them suggests it wants to play.
“Easy there, fella!” Mikhail raises his hands at the little grizzly, glancing back to see what must be Mummy and Daddy Bear fan out to reach their young charge. “We’re not here for your porridge or anything. I don’t even like the stuff, I swear. Now, why don’t you step aside and we’ll be on our way?”
The little bear purrs at the pair. As if to show them how clever he is, he squats beside the rock-clad hatch and begins to slam it up and down.
“Hey, leave that alone!” Yoshi takes one step forward, and then brings it back again when one of the big bears growls a warning.
Mikhail swallows dryly. “Yoshi, how about we start shouting really loudly? There must be a night-keeper around.”
“Any sudden noise is likely to trigger an attack.” Yoshi replies, grimacing as the little bear bats the hatch one way then the other. “Trust me. I’ve seen the wildlife documentaries.”
“So what now?” asks Mikhail, upon which the little bear works out that the hatch can tilt even further, and brings it crashing down. The square of light vanishes from view, sealed in once more by an unassuming hunk of rock. In desperation, both boys look around, but there’s no means of prising it open.
“Well,” replies Yoshi, after a short pause to consider what this means. “It seems we don’t have much choice anymore. We’ll just have to do what I brought you out for in the first place.”
“No way,” says Mikhail. “Not that.”
“How else are we going to get away from here?”
The young Russian doesn’t reply for a second. He just stares at Yoshi in disbelief.
3
The craziest thing I ever heard
“You want us to go jump running?”
Yoshi shrugs in response, desperate not to show that he’s equally frightened. The art of crossing urban environments by rooftop no longer leaves him in a cold sweat. As a parkour, or jump runner, he possessed a head for heights and a sense of balance that allowed him to jog along parapets and spring between buildings as if some guardian angel was there to protect him. Yoshi knows that a successful run depends on careful judgment and complete concentration. At this present moment, however, under siege from three bears up on a synthetic mountain top, his next move could only be a leap of faith. What troubles him all the more is whether Mikhail will find the courage to follow in his footsteps.
“I do realise this isn’t the easiest place to begin your first lesson,” he tells the young Russian. “There’s a long semi-circle of traffic bollards just outside the main gates that are brilliant for beginners to hop and skip between. I’d been hoping we could start there, but now we’re up here let’s be positive, huh? We might have further to fall, but at least we don’t have to do any more climbing.”
For once, Mikhail dares to take his eyes off the bears, and stares at his friend in amazement. “You really are serious! Yoshi, there’s no way out from here. We’re finished!”
Yoshi flattens his lips, clearly under pressure. “Listen to me,” he says, desperate now to convince his young friend. “You’re a street magician, right?”
“Yes, but a card trick isn’t going
to stop these bears from mauling us to death. They don’t have the patience for a start!”
“When I first dropped in on you,” continues Yoshi, anxious to make his point, “I couldn’t believe it when you appeared to float on air, or find my name inside a fortune cookie I’d picked at random. Now, thanks to coaching from you and the rest of the crew, I can do the same tricks. I even earn my keep from it, same as you!”
“That’s because street magic is a skill. It might look like a gift, but anyone can learn how to do it.”
“And the same goes for jump running!” Yoshi faces Mikhail directly now, and grips him firmly by the shoulders. “You have to trust me when I say that I can get you out of here. Just have faith, and follow every move I make.”
“Hold on!” Mikhail seems as panicked by Yoshi’s proposal as he does by the presence of the grizzly bears. “I may have coached you to become a street magician, but it didn’t happen overnight. You made mistakes, and learned from them.” Briefly, the young Russian looks around. “But spilling your cards all over the floor is not quite the same as spilling your brains all over these rocks.”
“On my count,” breathes Yoshi insistently, as the largest grizzly tests them by scooping up grit and hurling it at their feet, “we’re going to sprint for the edge just as fast as we can. No more questions, Mikhail. We have no choice any more.”
“But there’s nothing beyond but fresh air!”
“Trust me. We have height and trajectory on our side.”
“Yeah, but not gravity,” Mikhail states plainly. “We’ll smash ourselves to smithereens!”
“Not if you put a spring in your final step and push out with your head high and your arms spread wide. It’s very important that you adopt that shape if you want to clear the rockfall and reach the mesh fence.”
Mikhail blinks back at him, looking slightly stunned. He responds in a strained whisper, as if fearing somehow that the bears will understand them. “Are you suggesting we swallow dive from this mountain? Good grief. That’s the craziest thing I ever heard!” An agitated growl from the grizzly behind Yoshi appears to help the young Russian accept that staying put might be a crazier move. He breathes out hard, and shakes the tension from his arms. “After you, then,” he says, and steps aside to clear the way. “I insist.”
