The House of Puzzles

by Richard Newsome

  Sam craned his neck over her shoulder. ‘What do you see?’

  Ruby shot up a hand and pinched her brother’s lips together. ‘Ssshhh.’

  Gerald strained his eyes but could make out nothing.

  Then Ruby’s urgent whisper filtered back to him.

  ‘I think it’s Alex Baranov,’ she said.

  Chapter 16

  Dim light seeped through from the opening at the end of the tunnel. Gerald crawled forward, crowding in behind Sam, trying to get a better view. They looked into a cavernous chamber hewn from the subterranean granite. Six battery-powered lanterns were dotted around the floor, barely illuminating the immense space and the vaulted brickwork ceiling. But it was enough for Gerald to see a rickety assembly of scaffolding shaped like a wedding cake teetering up to the ceiling. Halfway up the structure was Alex Baranov. Millicent, Owen and Gretchen stood at the base, staring up at him.

  ‘Come down,’ Millicent called. ‘You’re going to hurt yourself.’

  Alex ignored her and clambered higher up the scaffold, his headlamp lighting the way.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Gerald whispered to Ruby. This earned him a sharp shush and a clip around the ear.

  Alex climbed on until he stood on a platform at the top of the scaffolding. He steadied himself with the palms of his hands flat to the ceiling beneath the apex of the central arch. His headlamp shone a pool of light onto the keystone that held the arch in place.

  Ruby gasped. She grabbed Gerald by the collar and yanked his head up next to hers. ‘Look,’ she hissed, ignoring his grunts of discomfort. Gerald followed Ruby’s pointed finger to where Alex Baranov was inspecting the face of the keystone.

  And then he saw it.

  The outline of an egg-shaped symbol was carved into the front of the keystone.

  ‘Are you sure you locked the door behind us?’ Alex called down to his teammates. ‘I don’t want anyone walking in on this.’

  ‘Don’t worry. No one is going to find you,’ Gretchen called back, sounding bored. ‘Can’t we just record this on the satellite thingie and get back for dinner. I’m starved.’ She plopped herself down on a low strut, sending a wobble up the wooden frame.

  ‘Careful!’ Alex cried, pressing his hands harder against the ceiling. ‘This thing is unsteady enough without you sitting on it.’

  Gretchen scowled up to him. ‘Are you calling me fat?’

  ‘No, I’m calling you stupid.’ Alex carefully removed his backpack from his shoulders and, balancing precariously twenty metres above the stone floor, opened the top flap.

  ‘What’s he taken out?’ Ruby whispered.

  Gerald shoved her to one side, pushing her face into a wall. ‘It looks like a mallet,’ he said. ‘A rubber mallet.’

  Ruby pushed back, cracking skulls with Gerald. They both emitted muffled yelps.

  ‘What’s he want with a rubber mallet?’ Ruby asked. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hands wrapped around the back of her head.

  Gerald’s eyes jolted wide. ‘The symbol,’ he said. ‘I bet he’s going to knock out the stone with the symbol on it.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ Felicity asked.

  ‘Alex said the symbol represents something,’ Gerald said. ‘Something that’s really valuable. I think it might be the same thing that Mason Green wants us to find.’ He rose to his knees.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘I’m going to stop him,’ Gerald replied. ‘Or Professor McElderry is—’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

  Gerald shot from cover and into the open. He was across the cellar floor in an instant, brushing past Millicent and Owen where they sat, bored rigid, on the floor. He shouldered Gretchen out of the way, sending her spinning onto her backside in the dust, and launched himself up the scaffolding.

  The structure creaked and juddered as Gerald clambered hand over hand up the wooden struts.

  Alex, lining up to take a swing at the keystone, was almost shaken from his perch. He dropped to his hands and knees with a startled cry, landing on all fours amid a mess of off-cut masonry blocks and ancient wooden tools. A chisel tipped over the edge and tumbled to the floor. It ricocheted off a beam just above Gerald’s head, missing him by centimetres.

  Alex clung to the top planks and unleashed a stream of abuse. ‘Stop it, you bloody fool!’ he cried. ‘You’ll bring the lot down.’

  Gerald paused halfway up, breathing hard. There was a manic gleam in his eyes. ‘Tell me what’s so important about that stone block and I’ll stop,’ he said. He did not take his gaze off Alex for a second.

  Baranov glanced up to the stone that locked the arch in place, then down to Gerald clinging to the scaffolding below. ‘Not a chance,’ he said. Their eyes were locked in a wrestle of wills.

  Gerald’s mouth stretched into a grim smile, and he shook the bars like a wild chimp trying to escape from the zoo. Alex dropped to his belly, still clutching the rubber mallet. Chunks of stone tumbled from the top platform. Bodies dived for cover as the falling masonry exploded on impact.

  Gerald looked down and saw that Ruby, Felicity and Sam had emerged from the hidden passage to watch the show. Gerald gave the scaffolding another almighty shake. A timber brace snapped free and cartwheeled to the floor. Then a cry echoed down from the ceiling.

  ‘It’s yours!’ Alex’s voice cracked with fear. ‘You can have it!’

  Gerald stopped the shaking. Alex peered over the edge of the top platform, his eyes showing white. ‘You’ll give it to me?’ Gerald called up.

  Alex glared death at him, but nodded. Gerald resumed his steady ascent. When he reached the top he found the other boy sitting amid a litter of building rubble, his arms wrapped around his knees.

  ‘I’m sorry I had to do that,’ Gerald said.

  ‘You could have bloody killed me,’ Alex spat back.

  Gerald shook his head. ‘I wasn’t thinking clearly,’ he said. ‘But trust me—I have to complete this challenge.’

  Then Alex—bluff, confident Alex Baranov—did something that took Gerald completely by surprise.

  He started crying. Swollen tears rolled down his cheeks.

  Gerald looked at the boy sceptically. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  Alex tried to swallow the sobs. ‘Why do you even want it?’ he asked, his voice cracking. ‘What good is it to you? My father is going to kill me if I don’t get it for him.’

  Gerald pulled himself the last few steps to the top of the scaffolding. ‘I hardly think your father is going to—’

  Alex lashed out a hand and grabbed Gerald’s jacket. ‘You saw him,’ he said. ‘In Rice Crispies’ office. You saw what he’s like. You don’t make a fortune in Russian oil by playing by the rules. He’ll do anything to get his hands on it.’ Alex clenched his teeth. ‘Anything.’

  Then realisation dawned on Alex’s face. ‘You don’t know what’s inside this stone, do you? Or what the symbol means.’

  Gerald said nothing. He could feel his advantage slipping away.

  Alex wiped his hand across his eyes, smearing tears down
his cheeks, and laughed. ‘Weren’t you listening in that history lesson?’ he said. ‘This was James VI’s summer house. A friend of his left something here for safekeeping.’

  Gerald fumbled for a response but he was cut off by Alex’s triumphant cry: ‘It’s Cornelius Drebbel’s perpetual motion machine, you idiot!’

  Chapter 17

  Gerald’s mind spun, whirring and buzzing as quickly—and about as effectively—as Sam’s perpetual motion machine.

  This is what Sergei Baranov was after, and the reason he did not want Gerald to try for the Triple Crown: a mythical contraption stolen from the collection of Rudolph II of Bohemia?

  Then a sudden realisation tapped on the window of Gerald’s subconscious: was the perpetual motion machine also the object of Sir Mason Green’s desires?

  Gerald’s heart raced. It made no sense. How could an impossible machine that defied the laws of thermodynamics be worth Professor McElderry’s life? He rattled his head to try to get his thoughts back on track. He could worry about the sense of it all later. All he had to worry about now was getting Drebbel’s machine to Mason Green.

  Gerald looked up to see that Alex had pulled himself onto his knees and held the rubber mallet back over one shoulder. Gerald flinched.

  Alex caught the look on his face. ‘Don’t worry, Gerry. I’m not going to knock you off,’ he said. ‘Not yet, anyway. Here, come and be a help for a change.’ He nodded towards a large stone block by Gerald’s knee. ‘You’re going to have to lift that up and shove it into place once I’ve tapped the keystone out far enough.’

  Gerald looked at the lump of rock. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because if you don’t plug the gap the ceiling will collapse and bury us under eighteen tons of rubble,’ Alex said. ‘Is that enough of a reason?’

  Then Ruby’s voice drifted up from the floor far below. ‘Gerald, what’s going on up there?’

  Gerald did not take his eyes off Alex. ‘We’re agreeing on a date for a sleepover,’ he called back. ‘What do you think we’re doing? You might like to step back a bit.’

  Alex flashed Gerald a mocking smile. ‘Ready?’ He raised the mallet from his shoulder and swung it square against the keystone. The impact sent a shudder through the scaffolding, like a shiver running down a giraffe’s neck. Gerald dropped to his hands and knees, waiting for the structure to collapse under him.

  But somehow the tower held true.

  The keystone did not budge.

  ‘Come on,’ Alex said. ‘Be ready. I’ll get it this time.’ He lined up again and delivered another whack to the stone. This time it moved out about ten centimetres. ‘Lift the block ready,’ he said to Gerald.

  Gerald sucked in a breath and hoisted the stone onto his shoulder. It must have weighed twenty kilograms. A blaze of pain flashed through his collarbone. ‘Give us a hand, then,’ Gerald grunted.

  Between them, Gerald and Alex worked the block in behind the loosened keystone, fitting it neatly into the gap. Alex whacked it with the mallet, smacking it hard up against the keystone. He paused to catch his breath. ‘Someone cut that block to just the right shape,’ he said. ‘A few more good hits and the keystone will be free and this block will be in its place. The arch will be as good as new.’

  Gerald took a careful pace back. The structure beneath his feet seemed to sway. He glanced down and was suddenly very aware of just how high they were above the stone floor. He saw Ruby staring up at him, concern written across her face.

  There once was a girl named Ruby…

  No! He had to concentrate.

  Alex struck the block with a tremendous clout. The stone surged forward, spitting the keystone out like a watermelon pip. Gerald was taken by surprise as the heavy granite block fell into his fingers.

  Fell through his fingers.

  Gerald dropped it.

  ‘Careful!’ Alex yelled.

  But it was too late.

  The keystone smashed onto a plank at the top of the scaffold then spilled over the edge. Gerald and Alex watched as the keystone fell through the air and hit the floor far below like a bomb.

  ‘You idiot!’ Alex yelled. ‘If that machine is broken…’

  Gerald did not want to think of the consequences. He may have cost the professor his life.

  Alex looked at Gerald. Gerald held his gaze for a moment. Then they both moved in a clattering dash down the side of the scaffolding. ‘Ruby! Sam!’ Gerald yelled as he rattled down the wooden frame. ‘It’s in the keystone. Quick!’

  Alex yelled out for his teammates, urging them into action. ‘Find it!’

  Gerald and Alex jumped to the floor at the same moment and dashed to the pile of rubble. Gretchen and Owen were already on their knees, picking through the debris. Ruby and Sam dived in seconds later.

  Alex pushed his way into the scrum, shouldering Ruby aside. She landed awkwardly on a sharp rock and yelped in pain. In a mad flurry of digging, Alex pulled a sturdy metal box from the wreckage and held it above his head in triumph.

  ‘I’ve got it!’ he cried.

  The searchers stopped. All eyes were on Alex as he slid his fingernails under the lid, ready to prise it open.

  ‘Stop,’ Gerald said, breathing hard. He was on his knees, begging. ‘You said you’d give it to me.’

  Alex didn’t take his eyes from the prize in his hands. ‘Well, I guess I lied then.’ He eased off the lid and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.

  He looked in the box.

  ‘Well?’ said Gretchen. ‘What’s inside?’

  Alex’s voice was dry as desert sand.

  ‘It’s…it’s empty,’ he said. A look of absolute desolation washed across his face. The words had barely left his mouth when there was a creaking groan from above. Gerald looked up. It took a moment to register what was happening. By the time the first bricks were hitting the floor Gerald was on his feet and he, Ruby, Sam and Felicity were sprinting for the passageway.

  The roof was falling in.

  The headmaster’s office at the Oates Outdoor Education Centre was crowded with dust-caked bodies.

  On one side, in a sullen line, stood Gerald, Ruby, Felicity and Sam. On the other, equally sullen, were Alex, Gretchen, Owen and Millicent. Between the two groups stood Mr Beare who, while not sullen, certainly did not look happy.

  Facing them all was Dr Crispin. And judging by the shade of purple his face had acquired, he was not happy at all.

  ‘It is a miracle that no one was injured or killed,’ the headmaster said, pacing the small amount of carpet left vacant in his office. ‘What on earth were you all thinking, going into such a dangerous place?’

  Felicity opened her mouth to answer, but Dr Crispin flung up a hand, cutting her off. He was mid-rant and in no mood for interruption. ‘How would your parents react if you had been hurt, or worse? As it is I’ve got the Scottish Heritage Council baying for my blood. Can you imagine their response to all of this? You lot stumble into a previously undiscovered cellar under a heritage-listed castle and instead of reporting your finding you blinking-well destroy it. That castle may be a ruin but that doesn’t mean you can ru
in it some more.’ The headmaster leaned back against his desk and wiped a checked pocket handkerchief across his brow.

  Gerald stared glum-faced at Alex Baranov.

  It had been an eventful afternoon. After the first of the stone blocks from the cellar archway started raining down like mortar shells, Gerald had managed to lead everyone back to the hidden doorway. They dashed along the passage, keeping just ahead of a roiling plume of dust that chased them though the tunnel. They shot out of the stairwell into the courtyard like a fusillade of cannonballs. Gerald gave a garbled explanation to Mr Beare about what had happened while somehow avoiding any mention of the scaffolding, the rubber mallet or the keystone. But with a gaping sinkhole suddenly appearing in the centre of the castle grounds, swallowing up entire buildings, the second leg of the Triple Crown was abandoned. Everyone was marched onto the buses for the drive back to the camp. Gerald avoided taking the coach with the jagged crack across its windscreen.

  Dr Crispin ranted on and on. Discipline this. Responsibility that. Gerald figured that if he said nothing, the headmaster would eventually run out of puff and everyone could go and get something to eat. But Dr Crispin, clearly rant-fit from a lifetime in training, was showing no signs of fatigue.

  ‘And who came up with this year’s Triple Crown challenge anyway?’ he barked, turning his full fury to Mr Beare. ‘Why were students at that castle to begin with? Who in their right mind would send a hundred hormone-addled teenagers into a castle? Can you answer me that?’

  Mr Beare’s pasty complexion faded to a sickly greyish hue. He groped for a response. ‘Um…we used an external supplier,’ he said. ‘A company that specialises in this sort of thing.’

  ‘Specialises in what, exactly?’ the headmaster interrupted. ‘Endangering students’ lives and a spot of castle demolition on the side?’ He seethed at the hapless maths teacher. ‘Out!’ he cried to the eight students. ‘I need to continue this conversation with Mr Beare. Alone.’