‘But Mandrake got away,’ the Toymaker added.
‘I know where he’ll be heading,’ Sarah said.
‘You can get there quicker than us,’ her father said.
‘There’s something I need to collect on the way,’ she replied. ‘See you there.’ Her head disappeared under the water. A moment later, her feet broke the surface as she dived down into the depths.
‘What did she mean?’ Jake wondered. ‘What’s she need to collect?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Toymaker said. ‘Come on, before we’re missed.’ He led Jake to the nearest door.
Behind them, Albright was telling Revelle and Cath: ‘I don’t care what time it is, there was a murder at Councillor Halbard’s house last week which hasn’t been properly investigated. I want him brought in for questioning. We’re going to clean up this city, Officers, and we’re starting right now. Is that understood?’
Revelle and Cath looked at each other. ‘Yes, sir,’ they said in unison.
*
It was his insurance. He couldn’t stay in the City, but he could start again somewhere else. Provided he had the money and the power. Knowledge was power, information was money. He had always known he might have to leave, and so he had the most valuable documents and papers ready to go, stored in the Clandestine Archive below his shop.
Mandrake knew he wouldn’t have long. The Watch would soon guess where he was and they knew about the tunnels now. He had to be quick – collect the papers, and away.
He hurried along the tunnel, glancing with disappointment at the piles of books he would never now get to sort and catalogue and restore. It was a sad loss, but if he couldn’t have them, then no one would. The same with his Archives. The less knowledge anyone else had, the more his own was worth.
Once inside, Mandrake put his machine gun down on the desk and grabbed the most valuable books and documents, stuffing them into a briefcase. it wasn’t much, but it would be enough. He hesitated, then took down two glass canisters from a top shelf. One was almost filled with grey powder, the other with a similar but darker substance. Just a teaspoon of each when mixed together would lure the nearest Kraken, unable to resist the scent of food.
The canisters were too big to fit in the case. So he rummaged round until he found a holdall made of strong canvas. He put the canisters carefully inside, then packed more books and papers round them to keep them upright and secure. He needed both hands to carry the two bags, so he would have to leave the gun behind. But it would only draw attention, and he wouldn’t need it.
Just one more thing to do. Mandrake paused by the door, and pulled a small key from his waistcoat pocket. It fitted into a tiny keyhole in a wooden box fixed to the wall close to the light switch. The box opened, to reveal a metal lever. Mandrake hesitated only a moment, then he pulled the lever.
In the distance there was a faint rumble. The sound of a mechanism opening a heavy flood gate. Mandrake smiled, and stepped out of the room. He left the door open. Soon the water would flood through the Archive room, and out into the tunnels beyond. But by then he would be long gone.
He set off briskly along the tunnel, back towards his shop. But he had not gone far when he heard the sound of someone coming the other way. He didn’t have time for a confrontation. But if he went back to the Archive room, he could close the flood gates again, and get the machine gun. Once these people were dealt with, he’d continue as before.
Mandrake smiled as he recognised the voices of the two approaching figures – the Toymaker and the boy. It would be a pleasure to gun them down. They didn’t seem to have noticed him yet, but he didn’t care if they saw him now. He turned and ran back to the Archive room.
The gun was gone. The desk was clear. Mandrake didn’t waste time looking. He could hear the rush of the approaching water. He looked round one last time for the gun. Movement at the back of the room. Shadows? Or was there someone there?
He didn’t wait to see. He ran from the room, heading quickly along the tunnel – away from the Toymaker and the boy, away from the light. He’d hide in the darkness. They’d go into the Archive and he could make a run for it. They’d drown when the room and the tunnels flooded.
His foot caught on something on the floor of the tunnel. Just out of the light. It wasn’t heavy, but the faint shape was familiar. Mandrake nudged it gently along the floor, until it was visible at the edge of the darkness.
A doll.
The dark-haired doll he had filled with mixed powder to call the Kraken and left for the Toymaker. How could that be? Why hadn’t the Kraken destroyed it? He backed away, glancing nervously into the darkness. How long did he have? Was the Kraken already coming?
Mandrake turned and ran. The Toymaker and the boy were almost at the Archive room. He didn’t hesitate. The gun must still be in there somewhere. It must have fallen off the desk. Or he’d moved it aside and forgotten.
Inside the room, he slammed the door shut. Even if he couldn’t find the gun, he could wait until the Kraken had gone, until it had killed the Toymaker and the boy, then escape.
The gun was back on the desk – exactly where he’d left it. Had he missed it? Mandrake grabbed the gun. The sound of the water was now a loud roar. In moments it would smash into the Archives…
He pulled open the door, gun at the ready, holdall and briefcase close by his feet. Outside the Toymaker was waiting, with the two children – his daughter and the boy.
‘You try to stop me leaving, and I’ll shoot you,’ Mandrake said. ‘In moments, this room will flood. Unless you get that door shut, the tunnels will flood too. Now I’m going to wait down the tunnel, until I hear the water. Then – and only then – will I let you try to close the door. If you so much as move a muscle before that, I’ll shoot you all.’
He pushed the door open wide into the room. The weight of the water would press it back against the inside wall, making it difficult to close. They’d probably manage it, but it would keep them busy while he got away.
He lifted the briefcase, bracing the gun with one hand. It wasn’t as heavy as he thought. He’d have to leave the holdall, but never mind. ‘Nothing to say?’ Mandrake asked.
None of them replied. But the girl held something up. Something rectangular, made of black metal or plastic. It looked familiar, but Mandrake couldn’t place it. Until she flicked her thumb across the top of it and a bullet fell to the floor. The magazine from the gun.
Mandrake squeezed the trigger – and nothing happened.
The sound of the water was like thunder. The girl was pushing him back into the room, dragging the door closed. Shutting him in. Desperately he grabbed her, pulled her after him.
The water crashed through the vents in the back wall. Books and files and papers were hurled across the room. The torrent slammed into the door, pressing it shut.
The Toymaker and the boy strained to keep the door open. The boy was reaching through, shouting to the girl. Mandrake leaped for the opening, feeling the water carry him along. He was going to make it – he could get through before the door closed.
Then a hand pulled him back. The girl clasped him from behind, dragging him down into the water.
‘Get off me!’ Mandrake yelled. ‘You’ll drown too!’
But incredibly the girl was laughing. Then the door slammed shut.
‘I can’t drown,’ the girl yelled in Mandrake’s ear. ‘Remember? Because of you and Miss Patterson, I can’t drown!’
‘Then you’ll starve,’ Mandrake shouted back. ‘You’ll never get that door open with the weight of water against it. We have to shut the flood gate.’
Water was pouring in. It was up to Mandrake’s knees. Cascading over him as he scrabbled for the handle. But Sarah pulled his arm back. She was dragging him down into the foaming water.
A surge of water smashed through the tiny room, hurling shelves and papers from the walls. The holdall was caught in the wave and crashed into the door. The contents fell out. Papers floated away. the two canisters of p
owder bobbed violently in the rising water, clinking against each other before drifting apart.
Mandrake was struggling to keep his head above the water now. Before long, he was pressing it to the ceiling, and still the water poured in. He was choking, retching, gasping for the last breaths of air.
Then the water closed over him and he slipped down. His eyes were wide with terror, watching his own last breath escaping in tiny bubbles from his mouth. Watching the young girl in front of him, her hair swept back in the water and the gills below her ears rippling as the water passed through…
*
The sound of the rushing water was muffled on the other side of the door. Jake hammered on the metal, tears streaming down his face.
‘She’s trapped in there, we’ll never get her out,’ he yelled.
The Toymaker pulled him away, turned him round, held him tight. Jake’s fists hammered into the man’s chest instead, but there was no strength left in him and he sagged into Sarah’s father, sobbing.
They stood there in the tunnel for what might have been seconds or could have been forever. Silent in their shared grief.
‘We could come back with equipment,’ Jake said at last. ‘Cut the door open.’
‘The water would flood out, we’re below the river,’ the Toymaker said. ‘But something must be possible. There has to be a way.’
From the darkened tunnel beyond the Archive came the unmistakeable shrieking of a Kraken.
‘There’s no way,’ Jake said quietly. ‘Not with that thing around. I think it can smell us. He’s beaten us after all. Mandrake’s won.’
They hurried back down the tunnel, closing the flood gate behind them in case the door to the Archives didn’t hold, and in case the Kraken ventured further down the tunnel. They could hear it slithering through the passageway, its squeals and cries ringing in their ears. The last images of Sarah, trapped behind the door, dragging Mandrake into the water, were stamped on their memories.
The motor launch they’d taken from Whispers was moored exactly as they’d left it. The first light of dawn bathed it in yellow light, making the droplets of water on the painted hull glitter and shine. Jake cast off in silence, and neither of them spoke until they were back at the end of Shaft Street.
‘There’s always hope,’ Jasper Hickson said. ‘We’ll think of something.’
Jake didn’t reply. He followed Sarah’s father back to the Toyshop, his mind full of memories of the times he’d been there before – with Geoff, with Sarah… Both now gone.
There was a light burning in the wrecked remains of the back room. A figure sitting at the workbench, watching the door as they entered.
‘So what kept you?’ Sarah said.
*
She didn’t have a plan in mind when she held Mandrake back. Just revenge and anger and justice.
But as his lifeless body drifted face down through the water, and the room became still and tranquil and silent, Sarah saw the two glass canisters pressed against the ceiling above her, held up by the air trapped inside.
She remembered the powder inside the doll, what Jake had told her Mandrake said about summoning the Kraken. She didn’t have a plan, but she had the glimmerings of hope as she unscrewed the tops of the canisters and mixed the powder together in the water.
It was muffled and indistinct, but before long she heard the cry of one of the creatures. Then another. Soon after that the whole room seemed to shake and shudder as something smashed into the walls. The metal lining bent and tore. Tentacles reached in, ripping away brickwork and shelving, scattering the sodden paper that drifted like a blizzard through the water.
As soon as one of the holes was big enough, as soon as the Kraken that had torn its way in moved away. Sarah swam for all she was worth. There were several of the creatures gathered in the flooded ruins outside, all but smothering Mandrake’s hidden room.
But they were scrabbling and searching for the powder dissolving in the water, and Sarah swam past without them even noticing.
A dark shape joined her, then another. Soon she had an escort of Phibians, leading her out and up to the light of the new day, and across the City. To her home.
*
Revelle’s home was an old cargo barge. At one end was the cabin, divided into a small galley kitchen, sleeping area, tiny bathroom, and living quarters. But the other end of the boat was a mass of vibrant colour.
‘It’s a garden,’ Jake realised.
Revelle laughed. ‘Yes, it is. My father planted most of it. I keep it going as best I can.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Cath told him.
There was a small patio in the middle of the garden. A narrow path led to it, and it was surrounded by flower beds. Beyond them, there were shrubs and even a few small trees as the plants became denser and larger. Sitting at a small round table in the middle of the patio were Sarah and her father.
Sarah ran to Jake as soon as she saw him, embracing him tightly.
‘You only saw me yesterday,’ he said, laughing.
‘That’s too long,’ she said. ‘Well, long enough.’
Cath brought a tray of beakers of water. Revelle brought more chairs. They were folded flat and he opened them up for Jake and Cath and himself to sit on. In the middle of the patio, all Jake could see were the plants and bushes and trees. He could have been in the middle of a jungle, rather than the suburbs of the City.
‘Who’s that for?’ Jake asked as Revelle added one more chair. There was hardly room round the table.
‘One last guest,’ Revelle said. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Officer Revelle and Officer Dowling,’ a voice announced. Jackson Albright forced his way along the narrow path, pushing aside stray stalks as he went. ‘And their unofficial deputies.’
‘Deputies?’ Jake said. ‘Is that a joke?’
‘Not entirely.’ Albright sat himself down and accepted a beaker of water. ‘Sure you can spare this?’
Revelle nodded. ‘My boss here says I can recruit help if I need it,’ he explained to Jake and the others. ‘Unofficially. Off the payroll.’
‘But there is a budget for miscellaneous expenses,’ Albright said. ‘Even if it has been rather depleted by one of my officers submitting an expense claim for the hire and use of a ship called The Endeavour, including the full cost of a new diving bell.’ He smiled at Revelle. ‘Captain Denson sends his regards, by the way. He’s delighted to hear you are all still alive – especially, he says, as it means he gets paid.’
‘So, apart from the diving bell, what are miscellaneous expenses?’ Sarah asked.
‘If you’d like, they’re you,’ Cath told Sarah and Jake. ‘We have a lot of work ahead of us. Extra eyes and ears, people who can let us know what’s going on, anyone we can count on… It all helps.’
‘Not a regular thing,’ Revelle assured them. ‘Just now and again. When the going gets tough. Or whatever.’
‘I’m sure we are all of us happy to help in any way we can,’ Sarah’s father said. ‘I’m certainly happy to help drink your water.’
‘It’s rainwater,’ Revelle said. ‘Oh, purified of course. I catch it in water butts and have a filtration system. Mainly so I can water the plants. But it’s good to drink too.’
‘It certainly is,’ Jake agreed. There was something he wanted to ask, and now seemed as good a time as any. ‘Do you think Azuras would have got his body back, somehow, if he’d used the real Knight to complete Rahan’s puzzle?’
‘Who knows what might have happened,’ Revelle said.
Sarah’s father smiled. ‘You know, I don’t think it would have made any difference at all.’
‘His body was restored to him, that’s all Rahan promised,’ Sarah said.
‘Yes,’ her father agreed. ‘But he never actually solved the puzzle.’
‘Really?’ Jake said. ‘I thought they checked it all on their computers.’
‘Oh the Knight’s Tour was perfect, I’m sure,’ the Toymaker said. ‘But I think he may
have got it wrong with the first pieces. The pawns. Remember he moved them one square at a time up the board. When he reached the last square, he stopped.’
‘Pawns move diagonally to take another piece,’ Sarah said. ‘Is that what he should have done?’
Her father shook his head. ‘When a pawn reaches the last square of the board, it can be exchanged for another piece. Usually a player will choose to make it a Queen, but it could be any piece.’
Jake saw immediately what the Toymaker meant. ‘And so Azuras should have made each pawn into a Queen.’
‘Perhaps. And if it becomes a Queen, or a Rook for that matter, it can then move through every other square on the board.’
Jake laughed. ‘So he got it wrong anyway.’
‘He was concentrating on what he thought were the difficult moves. Perhaps he missed the obvious,’ the Toymaker said.
‘Or perhaps he got it right. He wanted to live for ever,’ Albright pointed out. ‘He got his wish.’
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ Cath said.
Albright nodded. ‘What you think you want, what you think is best… It doesn’t always turn out to be the case.’ He poured himself more water. ‘Tell me, Revelle, what’s that plant with the red flowers over there?’
They sat and drank water and ate fresh bread and talked and laughed until the evening drew in.
‘I’m sorry about your daughter,’ the Toymaker said quietly to Albright as he and the children said their goodbyes.
Albright slapped him gently on the back. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘And I know you understand what it means to lose a daughter.’
‘Or think you have lost her.’ The Toymaker nodded. ‘What was her name? I hope you don’t mind…’
Albright turned away. The dying sunlight glistening in his eyes. ‘Her name was Sarah,’ he said.
*
‘You think we’ll make good Watch deputies?’ Jake asked as they walked home along Shaft Street later that evening.
‘Oh I’ll leave all that to you two, I think,’ Jasper Hickson said. ‘All I’m good for is making toys.’
‘Rubbish,’ Sarah told him, laughing. ‘You can do anything.’
The Skeleton Clock Page 25
