Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper

by Alan Early

  Arthur shrugged. ‘Like you said: it’s our only choice. I wish we had all the time in the world to come up with something better, to convince more people to help, to find some – or any – weapons, but you saw for yourself, Ash: time’s running out.’

  She nodded, somewhat sadly, and then turned towards her cell. ‘Goodnight, Arthur.’

  ‘’Night, Ash.’

  He headed up to the second floor – taking great care when leaping over the chasm left by the broken section – and lay down on his mattress. The setting sun was shining right through the small window, illuminating the room more now than it had during the day. He was suddenly – and inexplicably – filled with hope. He had to believe that they’d have no trouble breaking into the park, and hope that they’d defeat Loki once and for all, hope that the world would be set right again. And, most of all, hope that at the end of it he would find his dad and his mum again.

  Out of habit, his fingers went to the ribbon around his right wrist. He stroked the smooth silk, remembering how fascinated he was by it whenever he held his mother’s hand. He could still picture the scene: walking through the town with his mum as she made her way to the shops. Once there he would often pick up a packet of fun-size chocolate bars and dump them in the shopping trolley hoping she wouldn’t notice, but she always did, although she never seemed to mind. And all the time he’d keep holding on to her hand.

  He thought of how powerful the ribbon called Gleipnir really was. How it had bound Fenrir the wolf, how it had bound Hel, how it had bound him to reality. Just then something moved against his arm. He opened his eyes to see that one of the stray ends of the ribbon was dancing all by itself, standing like a charmed snake and stroking against his left wrist. He held up both his arms and imagined the ribbon coiling from his right wrist around the fingers on his left hand. Then, as if Gleipnir had plucked the command right from his mind, it did just that. It wound its way past his little finger, in and out until it reached the thumb. The whole thing was actually getting longer as it went. Arthur pulled his left hand away and the ribbon receded.

  Something stirred in him then: the kernel of an idea, the seed of a plan.

  He pictured in his mind’s eye – and then his real eye – the ribbon winding itself around his left wrist. When it had made one full loop, it turned back onto itself and the loose end sealed itself to make Gleipnir an unbreakable whole.

  Arthur tried to pull his arms apart, but the ribbon was much too strong and the binding around his left wrist was too securely fastened. For a moment Arthur panicked, unsure how to release his arm. Then the pendant on his chest started to glow. He could feel it. But this time the sensation was different from every other occasion when this had happened. Whenever Loki was nearby, the pendant became hot and it radiated frantically like a warning alarm. But now the bronze exuded a gentle warmth and when he looked down at it he could see that it was glowing with more of a pale ivy colour than the neon-green brought on by danger. It was calming. It told him to relax and it told him, deep inside, how to break free. It had almost destroyed Hel to break Fenrir’s bindings. But Arthur now realised that Gleipnir was like a magical pair of handcuffs. And what Hel didn’t realise was that there was no way to pick that lock. You needed to hold the key: you needed to be the one who had locked it.

  Arthur shut his eye and imagined the ribbon uncoiling itself from his arm. He could see it letting him go, returning to its original length on his right wrist. And, in the darkness behind his eyelids, he could feel it happening.

  When he looked again the ribbon was back to normal as if nothing had happened, and the pendant had ceased glowing. Things were looking up. Arthur now had a secret weapon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sun was just rising when they reconvened downstairs, and the vast central room of the gaol was awash with the eerie pale-green light. Arthur came downstairs to find that he was the last one to arrive. He had his rucksack over his shoulder, complete with the hammer and a couple of other items that might come in handy. He’d found a wetsuit left outside his room when he woke, with a note from Ash suggesting he put it on. It was red with dynamic green stripes down the side and he was wearing it now. It was so clingy that he felt exposed in it, but he was relieved to see that all the others were in their swimming costumes too and were not paying him any attention. Ash looked up at him as his feet clanged on the iron steps. She was wearing the jacket she always did over a black-and-white-striped wetsuit. She also had the long stick he’d seen on the first day tied to her back.

  ‘All set?’ she asked as he joined the group.

  ‘All set.’

  She looked at the rest of the small gathering. Most of them tried to put on a brave face but the apprehension they were feeling still showed through.

  ‘We’ll be on our way now,’ she told them. ‘You lot should leave in half an hour or so. That way we’ll both arrive at our target positions at roughly the same time.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to be the ones to go in?’ Orla asked.

  ‘I think we have to be,’ said Ash with a smile.

  ‘All right then. Good luck.’

  The rest of them wished Arthur and Ash well as they walked out into the corridor on their own. Arthur murmured to Ash as the door closed behind them, ‘Are you sure they’ll turn up? They looked pretty nervous.’

  ‘I haven’t known any of them for very long, Arthur, but I’ve trusted them all with my life. They won’t let us down,’ she replied, ‘especially with Orla and Donal to lead them.’

  It was darker in the corridor than it had been on the day Arthur had arrived and he stumbled forward, almost tripping up twice. Ash took his hand in the gloom and put it on her shoulder.

  ‘Follow me,’ she whispered.

  Soon they were in the stone stairwell, making their way up to the attic room. Ash went first, climbing onto the stack of old mattresses and pulling herself up through the trapdoor. Arthur followed her. The city spanned out around them, much the same as the last time he’d stood on the rooftop. He looked at the gap in the clouds again, but this time a shiver crept up his spine because he knew what lay there.

  Ash was already halfway down the outer ladder by the time he started to follow. The jet skis were waiting in the corner by the trees. Ash hopped onto the one closest and took the driver’s position while Arthur clambered on behind her. She revved the engine and, after a bit of awkward manoeuvring in order to face the right direction, sped through the gap.

  The city beyond the gaol walls was as quiet as they had expected. No birds called from the skies, no car horns honked, no babies cried, no people lived their lives. Dublin was dead and the only sound at this funeral was the roar of their engine.

  The night before, Egg-head had given them the best route to the park. It was an intricate map of side streets and laneways that he’d drawn in crayon on a scrap of paper which Ash now held before her on the handle as she steered. Arthur noticed that she rarely referenced the map at all though. She told him she hadn’t been able to sleep with anticipation the night before and had memorised the whole thing.

  They could smell the smoke before they saw the fire. They caught a glimpse of the blaze as they cut through the water and Ash strayed off their route to get a closer look. The top floors of one of the apartment complexes that rose above the flood were ablaze. Tongues of fire licked out of glassless window frames, searing wooden doorways and collapsing ceilings and floors. The fire had mostly burnt out at one end of the complex and was more intense at the far end; it was clear that it had been set on fire hours ago. There was no sign of life among any of the burning buildings, either human or wolf. Arthur, with his arms wrapped around Ash’s waist for stability, felt her bristle at the sight of the fiery homes. Her back stiffened and her shoulders set, as if the sight was making her more determined. He squeezed her tighter and, without a word passing between them, Ash set off once more, heading for their final destination.

  For the rest of the journey, Arthur went over the st
rategy in his head, trying to find any weak points. The plan required that he and Ash would enter at the western side of the Phoenix Park, away from the zoo enclosure. They would wait outside while Donal and Orla’s team broke in over the eastern wall, which was largely unguarded thanks to the wild animals roaming freely there. Their team would then cause the diversion that would allow Arthur and Ash to enter the park and make it to the Áras unseen. The whole plan hinged on the guards at the western wall leaving their posts to investigate what was happening at the other end of the park.

  As they drew nearer to the park, Ash slowed the jet ski to a crawl so that the engine would make as little noise as possible. Eventually, at the end of a particularly narrow alleyway, she turned it off altogether. She turned back to Arthur. ‘We’re about three hundred yards from the western wall here,’ she told him in hushed tones. ‘We should swim the rest of the way so they don’t hear us coming.’

  Arthur nodded silently and they both slid into the water. He looked up at the gap in the clouds, almost directly overhead now. The sky was a clear, azure blue. He could even feel a slight breeze coming through the opening. It was a fresh spring morning beyond the clouds.

  They swam out of the laneway and towards the high wall ahead of them. Only the top layer of bricks was visible above the flood-line. They reached the wall and, careful not to make any extra noise, gripped the lip of the bricks and pulled themselves up for a closer look. They peeped over the edge of the barricade into the park. As Ash had said, the ground was dry under the cloud gap and the grass was a healthy shade of emerald. There was nothing to be seen but vast fields, broken up intermittently by tight clumps of trees. A pair of guards stood in the distance to the right beside the wall, and another pair was very close by on the left-hand side. They were wearing black overalls, flak jackets and the kind of helmets a SWAT team would wear: tight on the back with curved visors in front. The guards leant lazily against the bricks, crossbows slung idly over their shoulders. Clearly they weren’t expecting any trouble. Arthur could hear the distant hum of their voices but wasn’t able to make out what they were saying.

  Ash ducked back down behind the wall and looked at her watch. The second group had agreed to set off their distraction at eight o’clock sharp; it was now seven forty-seven. Just over ten minutes to go. She showed her watch to Arthur, and the two of them settled back into the water, kicking slowly and quietly to keep themselves afloat and praying that the distraction would work.

  Donal slid over the wall first and dropped silently to the ground on the other side. He landed a few feet inside one end of the fence that was as high as the wall and stretched across the east end of the park, sealing in the animals. They had left the speedboat at the main entrance to the park, now long sealed up, and he was dripping wet from the swim over. A penguin sunning itself on a nearby park bench looked at him briefly, then lost interest and shut its eyes once more. He spotted a giraffe’s head poking through some treetops in the distance, pulling leaves off and chewing. He peered through the sight of the tranquilliser gun in his hand: no sign of any predators, thankfully.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, just loud enough for Orla to hear. She pulled herself lithely over the wall and landed next to him.

  The barricade keeping the animals from the rest of the park was constructed from twenty-foot long segments of chain-link fence. Each section was fastened to the next with three pairs of nuts and bolts: one at the top, one at the base and one in the middle. Although Orla didn’t see any sign of electrical wires running through the fence, the first thing she did was to take a three-inch nail out of her pocket. She had brought it from the gaol for just this eventuality. She tossed the nail at the wires and watched it bounce off and land on the grass without raising so much as a spark.

  Donal looked at his watch: it was twenty minutes to eight, they were bang on time. He nodded to Orla and, together, they started to run along the inside of the fence. When they had gone as far as either one of them would risk – just over a third of the way along the barrier and in line with the road that cut through the centre of the park – Orla took an adjustable wrench from her other pocket and went to work on the fence, while Donal covered her with the tranquilliser gun propped against his shoulder. She clambered up the fence first, loosening the top bolt. It had been secured tightly but, with a couple of thumps from the side of her fist, the nut came free and she quickly unscrewed it and dropped it to the ground. She repeated the deed on the next two bolts and then the three on the other side. As soon as she was done, she pushed the loose fence segment over – it landed on the grass with a soft fwoshing sound – and together they moved along to the next one, back in the direction they’d come. She managed to get three more segments down before Donal told her it was time to make a move.

  With their job done they raced back to the wall. Orla climbed back over first. Donal had one last look at the park and then followed. As they swam in the direction of the speedboat, they both prayed that Arthur and Ash were in

  position.

  The rest of Team 2, except for the boy Arthur knew only as Egg-head, who was keeping an eye on the boat, were also in position on the top of the outer wall. They looked in amazement at the animals roaming freely in the park below. A small herd of antelope grazed in a field next to a flamingo and other exotic birds flocked on a knoll in the distance. A small pride of lions snored loudly in the shade of a tree close by. None of them noticed the group of human invaders crouching there. But they soon would. The team spread silently and carefully along the wall. As soon as it turned eight o’clock – and Egg-head had signalled to them that Donal and Orla were safely on their way back – they nodded to each other before letting loose with whatever fog horns, flares and other noise-makers they had been able to lay their hands on, making enough noise to spook a couple of hundred wild animals.

  ‘Say again,’ said one of the guards. Despite the helmet and the distance, Arthur could hear the disbelief in his voice. Ash was looking at him with widened eyes and gestured to the left. They pulled themselves silently along the wall, trying to get closer before peeking over the edge. One of the Wolfsguard was pressing a button on the side of his helmet but they couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the radio.

  The guard grunted irritably and released the button. ‘Bleedin’ idiots need our help over there,’ he said to his partner, gesturing towards the far end of the park. ‘Seems they’ve managed to let the zoo animals escape.’

  Arthur and Ash looked at each other again, hopeful smiles creeping over their faces. It was working, the plan was actually working! Team 2 had sent the remaining zoo animals stampeding into the park. With all the animals free again, the Wolfsguard near the animal enclosure had called for back-up. Now they had to hope that the guards on the western wall would be overcome by their wolf instincts and leave their positions to join in the hunt.

  ‘Let’s go,’ the first guard continued.

  The other guard, however, was not so convinced and stayed leaning against the wall.

  ‘It’s their mess – let them clean it up. Why should we go chasing around after animals they let out? Besides, we’re not supposed to leave our posts.’

  ‘Great,’ muttered Arthur. ‘We get the one conscientious wolf in the pack!’

  ‘Come on, would ya!’ urged the first guard. ‘It’s not like you’re gonna get a promotion for standin’ around here. Anyways, think of the thrill of the hunt! Don’t ya feel like sinkin’ yer teeth into one of them cantaloupe things?’

  These words seemed to convince his partner. ‘I think you mean an antelope. But you do make a good point. And it has been a long night: we deserve a treat. Fine, let’s go.’ But before he did, he jabbed a finger at the other guard’s chest. ‘But if we get into trouble, and we’re forced to write one of those bleedin’ reports, I’m blaming you,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now let’s go – we’ll miss the big cats!’

  There was a flash of green light around both of the
m and for a moment they blazed too brightly to look at. When the glow dissipated, the guards were gone and their uniforms were in heaps on the grass. Two grey wolves howled at the sky before breaking into a sprint across the expansive, empty fields towards the animal enclosure and away from Ash and Arthur. They looked down the wall and could see the rest of the guards had likewise transformed and were now streaking towards the other end of the park.

  Ash gasped like she couldn’t believe their luck. Arthur felt exactly the same way and knew that he was grinning like an idiot. They quickly heaved themselves into a sitting position on top of the wall then scrambled down the other side and landed in the park. As soon as they hit the ground, Ash fell to her knees and ran her fingers through the long grass. After a moment of doing that, she caught Arthur watching her inquisitively and her cheeks blushed a bright shade of pink.

  ‘It’s so long since I felt grass,’ she explained, getting to her feet. ‘It’s stupid, I know.’

  ‘It’s not stupid,’ he said. ‘Not at all. But we’d better get on with it; we don’t know how long those guards will stay away.’

  They went over to the pile of abandoned clothes. The two guards had been much taller than Ash and Arthur, but they had agreed when talking the plan over that blending in was the key. Arthur picked up one of the pairs of overalls the wolves had been wearing and appraised the size.

  ‘I think this is the smaller pair,’ he said. ‘You can have it.’

  ‘I’m exactly the same size as you!’ Ash snorted, but took the overalls anyway.

  They pulled on the discarded uniforms over their wetsuits as fast as they could, turning up the excess material of the legs and arms. The dampness of the wetsuits made the overalls stick to them, so they didn’t look quite so loose. The flak jackets the wolves had been wearing were surprisingly heavy and far too baggy, but they pulled them on nonetheless and tightened them as much as possible with the Velcro straps. One positive Arthur noticed when he looked at Ash was that they had the pleasing effect of bulking up their frames. The disguises probably wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny, but they would do from a distance.