by R. G. Bullet
In the latter stages of the baron’s illness, the physical twitching was reduced with herbal remedies and a rigid neck brace, but when the secondary phase took effect a feverish urge to gamble gripped him. Within a short time, the baron had managed to lose his entire fortune with bizarre and radical bets. The losses were staggering: a castle along the Rhine, a coffee plantation in Brazil, a ranch in Argentina, nine Old Masters, and a fifty-one percent stake in a dot-com company that survived the Internet bubble.
But the incalculable loss was the Shroud. The baron’s psychosis was kept hush-hush, and so the sentinels welcomed Alturus as the next Keeper, assuming he’d been well-chosen by the baron, and never suspected he would bring their worst nightmares to fruition.
The chief usher looked at Archy and the trainee, who at this point in the story were both sitting on the edge of the bench.
“Go ahead, ask away,” the chief usher prompted, shooting another cautious glance over his shoulder at the entrance.
“Who’s that one?” the trainee asked, pointing to another painting.
The chief usher picked up the portrait and held it up to the light. It was of a striking-looking gentleman in old-fashioned clothing.
“The bard himself—Keeper 46.”
“How do you know he’s the 46th? There aren’t any names or numbers,” Archy said.
“You notice the trees in the background?” the chief usher answered. “Look closely at the lower branches, how they cross over one another. Can you see the number four and six, there and there? And in this one,” he said, picking up the portrait of the 56th Keeper again. “Look at his desk. It’s very faint, but do you see the dates five and six crossed out on the calendar?”
Archy, desperate to take a closer look, slid inconspicuously up the bench.
“How many times has a Swap happened before the 56th Keeper?” the trainee asked, “and what’s it about?”
“I really shouldn’t be talking,” the chief usher said, trying to resist the urge to show off. “All I can tell you is that a Keeper’s Swap forfeits his right to the Shroud and he returns to a normal life by taking all of the possessions of whomever he swaps with. There, now you know.”
“But why, why would anyone do that?”
“Shh, keep it down. It’s not exactly a holiday protecting the Shroud, is it now? They have the Kurul to outmaneuver for one thing, the Dour Dozen to answer to for another, not to mention the fate of humankind. You can’t blame a man for wanting a peaceful life.”
“What about Alturus Burk?” the trainee asked. “We heard he’d made a Swap too—with some boy.”
“That boy, my lad, is sitting right here.”
Archy saw the look of amazement flash on the trainee’s face.
“You’re the new Keeper?” the trainee blurted at Archy. “The others told me you were Mr. Hall’s nephew!”
At that moment, Speaker Idosa entered the Inner Hall clutching an attaché case. “Good evening, Mr. Bass, Chief Usher. Are we ready?” she fired.
The chief usher stood up with a squeak. “OH! Speaker Idosa! I didn’t hear you as usual. Yes, yes we are. Shipshape and all set. We’ll just go and start her up.”
The chief usher exited the room with the trainee in tow walking backward behind him, still gawking at Archy.
Archy sat alone as Speaker Idosa perched on an ornate chair high on the podium.
“Here we go,” she murmured, swinging her bulky robes to one side. She opened her case, pulled out some files and started going through them one by one.
Archy’s gaze drifted back to the portraits and he studied the faces of the 56th and 46th Keepers until he could see them with his eyes shut.
In the background he could hear the rising hiss of the steam elevator as it built pressure, then the commotion of the sentinels’ messy arrival. Speaker Idosa must have been used to the turmoil because she didn’t bat an eyelid when a fight broke out somewhere in the Crypt.
Sentinel Remnant entered first, holding his right hand under his armpit, his face showing pain. Following him was Sentinel Puffin, grinning mischievously, his wheelchair bobbing up and down from a buckled wheel. The remaining sentinels were causing a minor pileup as they tried to enter all at once.
“Hello, Sentinel Remnant,” said Archy, grateful he didn’t have to witness them dismount the elevator.
“Ah, Archy! There you are. Good trip?”
“It’s getting easier every day, Sentinel.”
“Good to hear. Well, Alturus was here earlier today and we debriefed him. The serum worked well, and he told us some things that would make your hairs stand on end, I can tell you—”
Speaker Idosa coughed lightly.
“—uh, well then. Nevertheless, he has assured us of the time and place of the Restitution. He seems to have remembered the details well enough, which in itself is a surprise. The gladius has to be delivered to a Maximus Crassus, as we had thought.”
He beckoned to an usher, who walked toward them, carefully holding the gladius out in front of him. “Well, here it is. The fly in the ointment, as it were,” said Sentinel Remnant, tapping the blade with his finger. He looked at Archy over his glasses and then continued rather gravely. “Just a reminder—if you miss the exit gateway, the consequences for you and Alturus are disastrous. But don’t forget now, we’re all right behind you. We want this to happen as smoothly as possible.”
“Thank you, Sentinel Remnant,” Archy said, matching the sentinel’s tone. “I want to ask about what I can take.”
“Hmm, the short answer is whatever you find in these, Archy.”
Speaker Idosa rose and handed a cream-colored envelope with a wax seal on the back to Archy. “SOTS has become fanatical over the years about any written information falling into the wrong hands. This all dissolves with a single drop of water. So, after you read it, memorize it, and then destroy it. And if you don’t have any water, spit on the wretched thing. Do anything to ensure that no one else reads it.”
Archy slid the envelope into the outer mesh pocket of his backpack so he wouldn’t forget to read them. “Is there anything else?”
“Whatever you take must be brought back with you. You’ll have exactly forty-eight hours from Saturday midday to complete the Restitution. It states in the rules, which you’ll read soon enough, if it is mishandled in any way the Keeper will forfeit his privileges.”
“I’ll lose the chance to be Keeper?”
“No, you’ll lose our support and consequently the Keepership, Mr. Bass,” said Sentinel Fleury, strolling toward them.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Sentinel Remnant said. “Do you understand now? You should also know that the gateways are rigged to deter people from tampering with them. It frightens the pants off your everyday chap. After you’ve made the Restitution, you can then go off and have a look around. Just make sure you’re lined up to get back at the proper time.
“TimeQuests are a fold in the timeline. You’ll experience forty-eight hours but in reality you’ll have gone and returned in the blink of an eye. It will be like you never left. Here are the keys—”
The sentinel held a pair of keys on a string. “Don’t lose them. Try to keep calm during the actual transduction. And here are the verses, both in and out.” Sentinel Remnant pulled out another envelope from his robe and handed it to Archy. “Take a look at these and commit them to memory.”
“All right,” said Archy, putting the keys around his neck. He opened up the envelope and read over the verses.
“And here is a GPS; it will put you a few feet from the gateway. Pretty advanced stuff.” Archy saw Ambtronics 230x written on the top.
“That’s it!” Sentinel Remnant placed his hand on Archy’s shoulder. “Good luck! You have a day to get ready and—a day to change your mind.”
“Change my mind?” said Archy. “Not a chance.”
Chapter 23
Gets Her Way
Archy flew back to Covent Garden to get Vincent and spotted him waiting in the exact place
he’d left him. Vincent looked cold, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, pulling the shabby leather jacket around him tightly. On the ground were four bulging plastic bags.
Archy hovered close by. “Psstt! Get over to the small path between the restaurants. I can’t pick you up here.”
Vincent felt for the rug and hopped on between two huge rubbish bins.
“Get everything?” Archy asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah! Listen, this is utterly mental! I’ve been thinking about the rug. Do you know the things we could do with this? We could get into the bank of England unnoticed and—”
“Vincent, we’ve got to keep quiet about all this—trust me! Don’t mention it to anyone, all right?” Archy swerved around a double-decker bus and rose above the traffic. “I have some things to do, and I need your help.”
Vincent watched in awe as the vehicles and buildings shrunk beneath them. “But you know we could get into any cinema for free?” he shouted as they zoomed over Tower Bridge.
“Vincent, I keep awake at night thinking what I could do with it. Going to a cinema is the last thing on my list. People like the ones we saw at the airport are still after me. I hardly sleep.”
Vincent understood this time and he stopped spurting ideas, for the moment, at least.
With just a few miles left until they reached Rushburys, it started to drizzle. Archy lowered the altitude, flying as fast as he could above the pavement, under the trees, and around bus stops.
The rug started juddering just as they entered the grounds of Rushburys. They flew over the playing fields, going very fast to get there sooner, but the rug suddenly lost power. The boys crashed to the ground, sliding right through the rugby posts and tumbling to a stop. Vincent scrambled to his feet. Mud slid off his clothes and fell with a splatter. He and Archy quickly gathered everything before they were seen.
They ran, ducked, and wove their way, hiding behind trees until they came up against the outside wall of the school building. They crawled through bushes toward the tuck room and the music rooms. They were nearly there when they heard fierce growling behind them.
“It’s one of Elms's dogs!” cried Vincent in a frantic voice.
Archy twisted around to see Vincent on all fours, face to face with the wiry hound that looked ready to pounce if he moved another inch.
“Keep still! Do not move,” Archy whispered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of dog treats. He threw a couple in its direction. The dog stopped growling, snuffled in the dirt, and wolfed them down.
They continued to crawl, with the dog following. Archy threw more treats along the way till all three of them were outside the music rooms. Archy and Vincent slumped under the windows.
“Sit!” Archy hissed. “Down!” The dog obeyed, wagging its tail.
Vincent peeked in through the window to see a boy hammering out a tune on the piano. “Easy with the treats, Archy,” he said. “We could be here a while.”
“Don’t worry,” said Archy, patting his parka pocket. “I have something to tell you anyway.”
Vincent sat back down and listened to Archy talk about the Restitution of the gladius, and how he wanted Vincent to come along on the mission.
Eventually the bell rang for bed. Inside, the boy stopped playing the piano and left the music room.
Archy opened the window and jumped in. Then he held it open for Vincent.
“You’re telling me these sentinels are older than Stonehenge?” said Vincent as he jumped off the radiator.
Archy threw the remaining treats out at the dog and shut the window. “I don’t know their age exactly, but Alturus told me they’re ancient and know a lot of things about a lot of things.” He pulled the gladius out of his backpack and showed it to Vincent, who took hold of it and did exactly what Archy had done. He swung it around, nearly slicing his own leg open.
It took a while for Archy to fully understand Vincent’s lack of enthusiasm for the TimeQuest. But he got it when Vincent finally said, “I want to go, Archy—really—but Dad’s not going to let me.”
Archy noticed Vincent’s slumped look when the perfect answer seemed to pop into his head. “There’s always a solution, right, Vincent?” Archy grinned.
“Yes...”
“And if we invite Georgia?” Archy offered tentatively.
“Are you crazy? She’s a nightmare, Archy. A real bore. She always gets her way.”
“That’s my point! She can get your dad to let you both go. Think about it.”
Vincent didn’t need to think about it. “Perfect. She could get Dad to do anything.”
Archy rolled his backpack over, returning the gladius—and that’s when he saw the fizzing remains of the envelope.
“NOOO!” he yelled out, smacking his head hard. The rules for the TimeQuest bubbled through the mesh pocket and slid onto the ground in a soggy mess. “Now the sentinels are going to think I’m an idiot for messing up before I’ve even started!”
Archy tugged out the remaining part of the envelope but before he could open the piece of paper, it disintegrated between his fingers.
“Didn’t you say Alturus had been on a TimeQuest?” Vincent asked. “Get the rules from him.”
He’s right, Archy thought. “Good thinking. And Alturus won’t mention it either. He can’t afford to. You’re a genius, Vincent.”
Chapter 24
Bundo’s Lead
Days had passed for Bundo with no news from Kurul headquarters. The mission had turned sour. Short-tempered as usual, he sat in the car grinding his teeth with frustration. The incident at Alturus’s flat had been yet another dismal failure for him and the thin accomplice. They nearly caught Archy and had almost been caught themselves. They’d wheel-spun away into the winding streets of the city as the wailing sirens of police drew closer.
After the chase they dumped the van and drove off in a car the thin accomplice stole from an old lady outside a liquor store. It was a decrepit vehicle, with strips of wood along the outside. It smelled of wet dogs and was extremely cramped. And that’s where they slept.
The following morning they returned to Alturus’s flat but as they drove past they both had to slump down in their seats. They sensed something was wrong; hefty-looking men with cropped haircuts and dark suits lingered in shops while others loitered awkwardly at bus stops. It didn’t look right; it was an ambush, Bundo thought, and he trusted his senses. The sentinels were involved in some way—he could feel it.
Later that day Bundo parked the smoking car at the back of a gas station on the Marylebone Road and tried hard to think of a new plan. He was angry at Kurul headquarters for putting him with such an inept partner. This fool, he thought looking across as the thin man dozed, drool running off his bottom lip. He is like his mustache, thin and good-for-nothing. Bundo made up his mind to torture him later that night if the Kurul leader offered no new information. It would ease his tension. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, thinking of the various ways to make it excessively slow.
The thin accomplice’s eyes opened.
“You woke me,” he slurred. “Why are you always so nervous? Always tap, tap, tapping. Here, look at this catalog,” he said, reaching for the litter on the floor. “It has silk underwear.”
Bundo’s temper snapped. He grabbed the accomplice’s top lip, pulling him over the handbrake, his huge hands covering most of the thin accomplice’s bony face, which only partly muffled the shriek.
“EEeeeeeeeaaarrr!”
“Shut up! Go and get me coffee! Come back, and shut up again!”
That night Bundo made his call to his Kurul leader in Istanbul. The conversation with his commander was brisk. Although there was no mention of the previous night’s blunder at Alturus’s flat, there was an ominous tone in his master’s voice.
“Get to the Greenwich observatory at eighteen-hundred hours tonight, and wait by the bench of the park’s entrance. Stay put. Our man will find you.”
“Why there?” ask
ed Bundo.
“We have a mole in SOTS. We’ll have a set of duplicates and you’ll get to infiltrate their damnable TimeQuest for the first time in history. Bundo—don’t mess up!”
“It’s been hard, Master.”
“Hard! HARD!” Bundo heard a hacking cough, then the voice came back, raspy and direct. “The Bosporus is unique, Bundo. You know a bloated corpse as large as yours can still flow very, very quickly out to sea.”
Chapter 25
Heavy Load
Archy and Vincent got back upstairs in time to bathe and get to their respective dormitories for lights out.
Archy spent hours trying to get to sleep, and the more he tried the harder it got. The rising doubt about whether Vincent and Georgia could come on the TimeQuest and the dissolved rules kept his mind spinning.
He knew the sentinels were testing him, but they were used to dealing with adults who may have won their support in much easier ways. He doubted that any of the Keepers would have had to go through such a challenge. Alturus certainly hadn’t had to.
Archy lay on his back watching the shadows of the trees dance across the dormitory ceiling. Maybe that’s why they made this test, because I’m just a boy and they expect me to fail, he thought. They don’t want to spend their time baby-sitting me when they can have someone who has all the answers taking care of the Shroud. Are they really on my side? What if I miss the entrance gateway? What if I crash?
He couldn’t find any answers for all the questions he conjured up. His mind eventually turned off, and in the early hours he surrendered to his exhaustion.
If getting to sleep was slow, his awakening the next morning was abrupt. Vincent stood over him, shaking his shoulder. Archy forced his puffy eyes open. The other boys were slowly getting up and showed surprise at seeing Vincent in their dormitory, buoyant, so early in the morning.
