‘Cynical? Realistic? It’s all the same, wouldn’t you agree?’ Green took a deep breath. ‘Why, Gerald. We haven’t spoken like this since the last time we enjoyed each other’s company. In the burial chamber under Beaconsfield.’
He paused and eyed Gerald curiously.
‘I never got a chance to ask you,’ the old man continued. ‘When I placed the golden staff upon your forehead, what did you see?’
Gerald flinched. How could Green know that he had a vision? What was that golden rod?
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Gerald said.
‘Is that right? Tell me, Gerald, how have you been sleeping lately? All sweet dreams?’
‘You were there!’ Gerald yelled. ‘Inside my head!’
He rushed at the old man, grabbing at his shirt. But Green stepped aside and Gerald went sprawling across the floor. Green pointed the gun at the boy’s head. ‘I enjoyed our little night-time chats, Gerald. It is amazing what one can achieve with the right equipment. And that golden rod has some truly amazing qualities. Which is why I intend finding the remaining two caskets. But you’ve already guessed that.’
Ruby rushed to Gerald, helping him up from the ground. ‘I should have believed you about the dreams,’ she said.
‘Indeed you should have, Miss Valentine,’ Green said. ‘It was only through the occasional niggle in Gerald’s head that I could corral him towards Mamal-lapuram. You see, thanks to his ancestry, Gerald knows a great deal about the caskets—he just doesn’t realise it. He needs the occasional jolt to shake the knowledge free.’
Green called back towards the shadows. ‘Bring him out!’
Gerald was horrified as the thin man appeared at the far edge of the temple. In front of him he pushed a man who was clearly terrified. The man collapsed as he crossed the mosaic floor. The thin man lifted him up and threw him forward as if he were a sack of rice. He fell at Gerald’s feet, a sobbing mess.
Gerald gasped. It was the fortune-teller from the market in Delhi. The one who had slipped him the card bearing his family seal. The one who had run away.
Gerald dropped to his knees and held the man. The fortune-teller shivered like a frightened child.
‘Are you all right?’ Gerald knew it was an absurd question.
Green loomed over them. ‘Find the location of the emerald casket,’ he commanded. The fortune-teller didn’t move. At a nod from Green, the thin man lurched forward. He had a knuckleduster on his raised fist. The man recoiled, whimpering like a whipped dog.
‘No,’ he cried. ‘I will find it.’ He swivelled in Gerald’s arms. ‘Give me your hand,’ he whispered. ‘Everything will be all right.’
Gerald was too shocked to resist. He let the man take his right hand. A tingling shot up his forearm.
‘The tenth gate is opening,’ the man said. He scraped a rough thumb over the skin between Gerald’s eyebrows. ‘The way is almost clear.’ He closed his eyes and a rattling wheeze broke from his chest. Gerald feared it might be the man’s last breath. Then the fortune-teller leaned forward until his mouth was millimetres from Gerald’s ear. ‘You are the progeny,’ he whispered. ‘You must survive.’
The man tore himself from Gerald’s grasp. ‘I have the location of the casket,’ he said.
Green dragged the man up by the shoulder. ‘Show me,’ he demanded. The man limped towards a door in the far wall.
Gerald was still on his knees. ‘Progeny?’
‘Thank you for your assistance, Mr Wilkins,’ Green called over his shoulder. ‘You are no longer required.’ He cast a glance at the thin man. ‘Make it look like an accident.’ Green didn’t look back as he left.
A smile spread across the thin man’s fire-ravaged face.
He circled around them. Gerald could see Sam eyeing the knuckleduster with alarm.
‘It will look like an accident,’ the thin man sneered. ‘But that doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun.’
He took a step towards Sam. But before he could take another, a whizzing sound cut the air. Alisha was standing with her feet apart and eyes ablaze, whirling a bandit sling above her head. ‘This will take your head off!’ she cried. ‘Move away!’
The thin man swung around to face Alisha. His hand slipped inside his black jacket and reappeared holding a thin-bladed knife. It didn’t take Gerald, Sam and Ruby long to weigh up the situation. In seconds they too whirled slings above their heads. The thin man retreated a step, slashing the air with his dagger.
Without a word, he spun around and ran for a door in the far wall. They watched as a heavy stone portal fell shut behind him.
‘Nice thinking,’ Gerald said to Alisha. He saw her knees were shaking.
‘Yeah,’ Sam said. ‘Lucky he doesn’t know how rubbish you are at throwing.’
Ruby took Gerald by both hands. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
Gerald nodded. But he was distracted. The gnawing sense that the casket was nearby would not leave him. He wandered across the twisting pattern of the red, white and blue floor tiles.
‘It’s here,’ he said.
‘How can you tell?’ Ruby asked.
Gerald gave her a look that said he had no idea. ‘It’s buried here. Somewhere under these tiles.’
Sam gazed at the huge expanse of the temple floor. The twisting criss-crossed mosaic added to the impression of an impossible task. ‘Unless you’ve got access to a bulldozer, I suggest we just get out of here.’
The sound of rushing water suddenly filled the temple. Gerald’s eyes darted around him. What had the thin man done?
Then the water arrived.
Great cascades poured in from all sides. Gerald grabbed Ruby.
‘The thin man’s switched off the pumps. Come on!’ he yelled and raced towards the closest doorway. But it was like running into a raging surf. Water surged across the floor, sweeping them from their feet and sending them tumbling. Gerald was flung onto his back and he lost hold of Ruby’s hand. A torrent of water crashed over him, rolling him along the tiles. He held his breath and closed his eyes tight. His feet flew up over his head as he was spun around in a watery corkscrew. The water wasn’t stopping—the temple was filling up. His lungs screamed for air and his eyes shot open. He had to find which way was up. He had to breathe.
Gerald kicked hard. His hands swept through the water in a desperate effort to find the surface. But it was like trying to swim in a washing machine. Just as Gerald thought his lungs would collapse, he burst to the surface. He gulped in a lungful of air and fought to keep his head up.
He saw the bobbing heads of Sam and Alisha and swam towards them. The water lapped higher and higher up the temple walls, swallowing lines of statues as it went. The rectangular slots that let in light from the outside slammed closed—shutters set below the openings floated up with the rising water. The higher the level rose, the darker the temple became. The cheese grater was sealing itself off.
Gerald reached Sam and their first words were the same: ‘Where’s Ruby?’
‘She’s not a very good swimmer,’ Sam said, his chin barely above the surface.
‘There!’ Alisha pointed. Gerald turned his head and saw her clinging to the statues on a wall. But the rising water kept buffeting her away. She was struggling.
Gerald ploughed towards her. Shutters continued to snap closed, casting the temple insides in an eerie pink glow. Ruby’s hands slapped at the surface and her head lolled as water splashed into her mouth. Gerald was only metres away when she disappeared under the surface.
He duck dived. In the ghostly silence that embraced him, he saw Ruby suspended like an out of favour marionette. Her limbs were splayed awkwardly and her hair wafted up like floating silk. Her eyes were closed and tiny bubbles escaped from her lips. Gerald kicked as hard as he could, surging down. He wrapped an arm around Ruby’s chest and strove for the top. They breached together. Sam and Alisha took hold of her. Ruby coughed and water spewed from her mouth. And she breathed.
Gerald fell back
, spent. The water was rising faster the higher up the temple they floated. The interior had darkened to a blood red, lit solely now by the beams shining through the jewelled ceiling.
Gerald’s strength was flagging. His backpack and his boots were dragging him down. They had to come off. He shrugged his pack clear and it fell away. Then he filled his lungs and again ducked beneath the water. His fingers fought with the sodden, tangled laces and he finally wrestled one boot off. He dropped it and watched as it sank in a graceful arc, laces trailing.
Then he saw it. He was so shocked he almost forgot he was underwater. He dashed for the top and took a breath, then dived again. Under the red light that now suffused the temple, the pattern in the floor mosaic changed. The white fell away and the red disappeared altogether, leaving the dark blue tiles dominant. And there, near the statue of Ganesha far below, an emblem in the blue pattern emerged as plain as day: a triangle of three forearms with a blazing sun at its centre.
Gerald surfaced. ‘I’ve found it!’ he shouted. ‘I know where the casket is.’
He swam to the others. Ruby was floating on her back with Sam supporting her head. They looked exhausted.
‘That’s great, Gerald,’ Alisha said. ‘But we’ve got other problems.’
Gerald looked up. The ceiling was much closer than he expected.
‘We might run out of air,’ Alisha said.
The space was getting tighter as they neared the narrow top of the pyramid. Gerald took over helping Ruby. She looked at him with apologetic eyes. Gerald couldn’t think of anything to say. He kept treading water, kept holding her up.
The water level surged as they neared the temple ceiling—the walls pressed them close together. There was no room for Ruby to float on her back. Gerald flipped her in front of him and held her close.
‘We’re running out of air,’ Alisha panted.
The water lapped their chins. The top of Gerald’s head banged up against the red jewels. He had to kick doubly hard to keep his mouth clear and to keep Ruby afloat. He grasped at the ceiling, desperate for a handhold. The four heads now crammed together with just centimetres of space between the water and the top of the temple.
Then the flood paused, seemed to hold steady.
‘Air pocket,’ Sam gasped. His voice was thin in the confined space. The four of them breathed heavily, pumping their legs. Pins of light sparked inside Gerald’s eyes. He was close to passing out.
Sam’s fingers darted about the jewel-studded ceiling, searching for any openings. There was a large red gem in the very centre; a gem the same size as the Noor Jehan diamond and the emerald that Kali stole from the thin man.
Alisha saw it too. She reached for it.
Sam grabbed her wrist, holding her back. ‘If we pull this out, won’t the water rise up?’
‘Or we can run out of air and drown,’ Alisha said. ‘Your choice.’
Gerald’s eyes grew wide. His vision went to black and white. He was going under.
His face dipped below the surface, but he held Ruby aloft. His head rolled back. His lungs were flattened and useless. Time suspended. The world was on mute. He gazed up as if in a dream, as if looking through a web of cottonwool. Sam’s fingers were on the gem. Alisha pounded on the ceiling. Suddenly a shaft of white light burst into the temple. Sam had the stone in his hand. The water rushed upwards. There was a pop as the last of the air shot out the top of the structure. The temple was inundated.
The four bodies hung suspended as if preserved in amber.
Silence.
Then the water dropped. Air flooded in from the hole in the ceiling, filling the gap left by the receding water. And four heads popped above the surface. There was coughing and hacking, spitting and wheezing. And, finally, relief. The water was pouring out of the temple now. Shutters snapped open as the water slid down the walls, past the lines of statues, and the temple was again filled with light. Gerald still held Ruby. He spun her around to face him.
She smiled, her eyes bright again. Gerald grinned back. His feet touched the floor and within seconds the temple was flushed clear. The four of them sank to the tiles and looked at the gem in Sam’s hand.
‘I bet this opens the third casket,’ Sam said.
‘Has to, doesn’t it?’ Ruby said.
Gerald gazed up to the temple ceiling. ‘Marcus hid it up there,’ he said. ‘He was a stonemason. He must have helped build this temple. And this is where he hid the emerald casket.’ Gerald stumbled across to an open space near the Ganesha statue. His pack hung by its strap from the elephant’s outstretched hand.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘Can you see it? Concentrate on the blue tiles.’
Sam, Ruby and Alisha looked to where Gerald was pointing.
‘Looks like a bunch of swirls to me,’ Sam said.
Gerald retrieved his bandit sling from his pack. ‘That’s the genius of it,’ he said. ‘You can only see it under a red light, and even then only from above. Marcus set the ruby up there so one day somebody could find the casket.’
‘But only if they were trapped inside while the temple was flooding?’ Alisha said. ‘How could he know that the city would one day be lost under the sea?’
‘Don’t know,’ Sam said. ‘Don’t care. Let’s get the casket.’
Gerald tapped the tiles at the centre of his family seal—of the crest of the fraternity—with the one boot he still had on. It sounded solid enough…but in one place there was a hollow knock.
‘It’s here,’ Gerald said. He swung the sling above his head and drove it with all his strength into the floor. The stones disappeared through the mosaic, leaving a crater of broken tiles. Gerald dropped to his knees and tore at the hole in the ground. Ruby joined him, sending ceramic shards in all directions. Their heads met over the centre of the hole and they peered down.
‘Hello…’
Gerald reached both hands in and heaved out a rectangular chest. It was about a metre long and covered in tiny jewels. On top of the lid was a carving of an archer with his bow at full draw. And in the archer’s chest was an indentation the same shape and size as the emerald.
‘Will you look at that?’ Gerald said. He ran his fingertips across the carved detail of the lid. It was truly magnificent. He pulled out the drawstring pouch from his pocket.
Gerald tipped the emerald into his palm. It felt warm on his skin. He placed it into the recess on the lid; it fitted perfectly. With a deep breath, he gripped the emerald and turned. The archer emblem swivelled and the lid opened. Gerald lifted it off.
The box contained a single golden rod, about half a metre long and decorated with elaborate filigree. Ruby reached in and took it out.
‘Oh,’ she said with surprise. ‘This is heavy.’
She held it out in two hands towards Gerald.
He looked at the rod as if it was about to lash out and bite him. ‘It’s the same as the one from Beacons-field,’ he said.
‘So no zombie curse then?’ Sam asked.
‘You sound disappointed,’ Alisha said. ‘But look at this.’ She held up the underside of the casket lid. It was covered in ancient writing.
‘Zombies?’ Sam asked, a little too eagerly.
Alisha shook her head. ‘It looks Latin,’ she said. ‘Hold on. I know this!’
‘You’re telling me you can read something carved inside a box fifteen hundred years ago?’ Sam said.
‘Possibly even older than that,’ Alisha said. ‘I can’t read it all but I recognise bits of it. It’s Horace. From one of his odes. Number eleven, I think.’
‘Who’s Horace?’ Sam said.
Alisha looked at him with pity. ‘Only one of the greatest Latin poets ever. How does this one go? Don’t ask what final fate the gods have given to me and you… How much better it is to accept whatever shall be… Um, oh yes. Carpe diem! Seize the day. While we are speaking, envious time has fled. Seize the day. Put as little trust as possible in the future.’
Sam shrugged. ‘No worse than Shakespeare.’
> Ruby still held the sceptre out towards Gerald. ‘Are you going to take it?’
The last thing Gerald wanted was the pain he’d experienced when he touched the golden rod under Beaconsfield. But it was compelling. He felt his arm move. He reached out a hand. He couldn’t resist.
The moment the staff touched his palm his fingers clamped around it. His brain was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of images that seemed to flow out of the rod and into his body. His mind was alight with a time-lapse of every moment of his life: a baby in a cot, his parents—so young—beaming down at him, a toddler stumbling along a beach, his first football team, the day he met his mate Ox in grade one at school. Then more recent events: Ruby freeing him from the thin man at the British Museum, the romp through the Rattigan Club, Sam facing down Sir Mason Green at Beaconsfield, Gerald’s dash through the markets chasing after Alisha. Then the barrage of visions moved into unfamiliar territory. He was in a cave. He was suspended in mid-air. Water surrounded him. And all the time a scream of unspeakable pain pierced his ears.
Through the visual bombardment, Gerald could somehow sense his fingers being prised open and finally a punch to the chest sent him backwards across the floor.
He shook his head and looked up at the startled faces of Ruby, Sam and Alisha.
‘What happened?’ he asked, still stunned by the vision.
The others stared open-mouthed at him. Sam was nursing the knuckles of his right hand. ‘Gerald,’ Ruby said finally. ‘Where did you go?’
Gerald went to stand up but flopped onto the floor. He was still woozy and his eyes weaved in and out of focus. Otherwise he might have moved sooner when he saw the thin man grab Ruby.
Chapter 24
Gerald must have blacked out for a full minute. He was struggling to take everything in. The thin man had Ruby by the elbow and a dagger at her throat. Sam was by the base of the Ganesha statue holding the golden rod like a baseball bat.
‘Let her go or I’ll bend this thing in half!’ Sam cried.
The thin man betrayed no emotion at all. ‘And I will slice your sister from ear to ear. She will be dead before she hits the floor.’
The Emerald Casket Page 23
