by Darrell Pitt
‘This is making too much sense to me,’ Jack said. ‘I think we should focus on looking for suspicious people—eye patches or not.’
He turned his attention to the crowds. Very few people had eye patches. The only one he could see was an elderly lady with a walking frame, and her frail state made her an unlikely evildoer.
Before long, Jack found his attention diverted by the incredible architecture.
He had seen some extraordinary buildings in his life, but this was breathtaking. Ornately decorated archways led to corridors covered in mosaics of blue, white and orange tiles. But these took second place to dozens of intricately carved columns that seemed to defy gravity by supporting tons of stonework.
‘Incredible,’ Scarlet said, gazing about with her mouth open. ‘It must have taken years to do this work.’
‘Probably decades,’ Jack said. ‘Longer if you’re wearing an eye patch.’
They finally reached the Palace of Charles V. Different to the other buildings, it was made of square stone, Renaissance in style, plainer but still impressive. Jack was surprised to find an interior portico—a round outdoor area at its centre—surrounded by two levels of ancient walkways.
They waited for Mr Doyle and John Fleming, the crowds milling around. A man and woman had just been married, and a photographer was taking pictures with a bellows camera on a tripod.
‘My goodness,’ Scarlet said, pointing to the upper floor, where a man was walking into the distance. ‘We know him.’
‘Is he wearing an eye patch?’
‘Don’t be silly! We’ve seen him before!’
The man stopped once before entering a doorway, checking behind to see if he had been followed. He was tall, with a grey moustache. He does look familiar, Jack thought, his memory returning to the previous evening and the attempted attack in Barcelona. It’s the man who lured us from the bar!
Jack grabbed Scarlet’s sleeve. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We need to keep him in sight.’
‘What about Mr Doyle?’
‘You can wait here, if you want.’
‘Not a chance.’
They scrambled up a staircase and raced down a corridor, just in time to see the man descending a flight of stairs. He left the building, glancing back once again, but Jack and Scarlet ducked behind a column.
‘Did he see us?’ Jack asked.
‘I don’t think so.’
They followed him down the steep hill. Trees gave shade on both sides of the path. A few tourists walking uphill had parasols to shield themselves from the late afternoon sun.
The man disappeared around a corner into a car park filled with vehicles of all types: small airships, steamcars and horse-drawn carriages. An old man fed oats to his old brown horse. Two small children chased each other around while their parents loaded picnic baskets into the back of a steamcar.
‘I don’t see him,’ Jack said.
The vehicles were parked so close to each other they were almost touching. There was no sign of the man with the grey moustache. Then Jack caught sight of him: heading down another road further away from the palace.
Jack and Scarlet spent the next half hour trailing him until they reached a train station. It was part of a whole new rail network that had been recently built across Spain over the last few years. Crowds were streaming in and out of an egg-shaped entrance made of iron and glass. Most of them were workers heading home for the day.
After the man paid for a train ticket, Scarlet purchased two: for herself and Jack. They trailed him down a flight of stairs to the underground, a hot tunnel stretching into the darkness.
‘Where are we going?’ Jack asked.
‘I have no idea. My Spanish is poor, but I pretended we were with the other man and needed tickets.’
They hid behind a pylon, keeping an eye on the man. It was less crowded down here. A board listed a number of stations, the most distant being the southern town La Zubia.
‘Mr Doyle will be wondering what happened to us,’ Jack said. ‘Maybe you should go back and tell him I’m following Moustache.’
‘Where you go, I go.’
‘Still, he’ll be worried.’
‘I know. I wish we could have left him a message.’ Scarlet snapped her fingers. ‘I know what I should have done. There’s a Brinkie Buckeridge story where she rips a piece of her skirt off, leaving a trail of thread that Dudley Dusseldorf follows.’
‘Scarlet, you’ll be wandering around in your underwear if you do that.’
‘True,’ Scarlet admitted, frowning. ‘Brinkie must wear very thick dresses.’
A train pulled in, belching smoke and steam. Jack and Scarlet boarded, careful to keep the man in sight. If he was part of the Valkyrie Circle, he might be on his way to their hideout, Jack thought. We might be able to corner the whole gang. This could be finished by day’s end.
An hour later, the train reached its final destination—La Zubia. The railway station was in the heart of a small town filled with squat earth-coloured buildings. It was late now and Jack was feeling hungry as they followed the man up a road that led away from town.
‘Where’s he going?’ Scarlet said.
‘To visit his ageing granny,’ Jack said. ‘How would I know?’
The road veered off to a path that wound around a hill before plunging into a deep valley. Jack and Scarlet stayed as far back as possible without losing sight of the man.
At the top of a crest was an abandoned-looking house. Several windows were broken, and some tiles were missing from the roof. It was accessible via a rope bridge, stretching across a hundred-foot ravine. It shuddered as the man crossed before disappearing behind the house.
‘Quickly!’ Scarlet said. ‘He’s getting away.’
‘I’m not sure,’ Jack said. ‘We’ll be sitting ducks on that bridge if he comes back.’
‘Why would he come back?’
With Scarlet leading, they started across the bridge, gripping the handrails as wooden planks creaked underfoot. Jack felt queasy. There was something not quite right about this whole journey. Where was the man going? Surely he didn’t live in the home on the hill?
Reaching the halfway point, Jack began to breathe a little easier—until a figure appeared on the other side from behind some rocks. It was the man! And he was holding a machete.
‘Jack!’ Scarlet cried.
They started back. Jack pushed Scarlet in front of him as the man began hacking at the ropes. One of the hand rails broke, then the second. Jack cried out as they dropped away. He and Scarlet had to remain perfectly balanced or they would fall over the side.
The wooden planks began quaking. Now he’s cutting away at the platform ropes, Jack thought. Once he breaks them—
A sound like a whip cracking echoed across the ravine as the bridge tilted.
‘Keep going!’ Jack cried. ‘Keep—’
But he got no further as the final rope supporting the bridge broke.
CHAPTER NINE
The rope ladder slammed into the wall.
Sm
ack!
Jack clung to the crossbar for dear life. Above him, Scarlet screamed again.
‘Jack!’ she said. ‘I can’t…’
She fell.
Jack threw out his arms and managed to grasp her as she tumbled past. ‘Grab one of the crossbars,’ he grunted, clinging to her and the timber at the same time. ‘Quickly!’
Scarlet started climbing. Jack glanced down into the ravine. It was a hundred-foot drop. They would be badly injured—or worse if they fell.
He steadily climbed after her and they were soon back on flat ground.
‘Oh my Lord,’ Scarlet said, collapsing. ‘My heart is still racing a mile a minute.’
‘I don’t think it’s over yet,’ Jack said, falling next to her. Moustache was nowhere to be seen. ‘That man must have known all along he was being followed.’
‘Is there another way around?’
‘Probably. But let’s not wait to find out.’
Jack’s legs were still trembling as they followed the path back towards town. Within minutes, they were among homes and shops. Jack found it hard to believe they had faced death just a few minutes before. The sun was low in the sky now. Mr Doyle would be pulling his hair out! And how many times had he told them not to do anything too risky?
‘We need to get back to Alhambra,’ Scarlet said.
‘Yes,’ Jack agreed. ‘But let me buy something to eat first.’
‘You and your stomach!’
They ate Spanish omelettes in a café before boarding a train. There was no sign of the man with his machete, but Jack remained vigilant as the train thundered down the tracks. Scarlet thrummed her fingers impatiently on the windowsill.
‘I keep wondering what Brinkie would have done,’ she said. ‘Would she have continued after Moustache, or would she have turned back?’
‘She wouldn’t have done either. She’s imaginary.’
Scarlet glared at him. ‘She’s as real as you and me,’ she said. ‘Almost.’
The train sped through the early evening and arrived back in Granada at eight o’clock. Jack and Scarlet crossed the city on foot to get to Hotel Hermosa. ‘I can’t wait to get to bed,’ Jack said. ‘I feel like we’ve been awake for a hundred hours.’
It had started to rain softly, making the streets slick with moisture. People in a pub laughed and sang. The smell of hot food wafted through the air from an upstairs kitchen. A couple kissed in a doorway.
By the time they reached the street where their hotel was, Jack felt ready to topple over from exhaustion.
Passing a steamcar on the side of the road, a man stepped from the back seat and approached. ‘Excuse me, senorita,’ he said to Scarlet. ‘I have something for you.’
‘For me?’ she asked. ‘What is it?’
The man produced a gun, pointing it at her chest. ‘You will both come with us if you want to live,’ he said. Turning to Jack, he added, ‘Do not think of running if you want your girlfriend to live.’
They were bustled into the back of the waiting car. The driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator and they sped away. Through the window, the hotel flew past.
We were so close!
Jack and Scarlet were jammed tight between two men as the car swept through the city. They drove to the outskirts, an industrial area with factories and abandoned warehouses. Bouncing over uneven ground, the steamcar reached a mansion that looked odd in this part of town.
‘Where are we?’ Jack asked. ‘Why have we been brought here?’
‘You will find out soon.’
They were taken inside. The hallway was well lit, and furnished with fine-woven Spanish carpets and lavish paintings of rural life on the walls. A chandelier hung above the stairwell. Whoever owned this home was clearly wealthy.
A flight of stairs led to a basement. Jack cast a look at Scarlet.
Where are they taking us?
They were led downstairs and shoved into chairs. Pairs of handcuffs were produced and their hands were secured behind their backs. The three men regarded them silently.
‘What’s going on?’ Jack demanded. ‘You’re not going to get away with this!’
‘We already have, young one.’
The men turned and left. Scarlet shuffled about in her seat. ‘Can you reach your lock pick?’ she asked. ‘I have a piece of wire in a pocket, but I can’t get it.’
Jack tried shuffling about in his seat. He could feel the weight of the items in his pockets. His parents’ locket. The compass. The lock pick was there, but he couldn’t reach it. Before he could reply, the door creaked open and a man entered.
Jack shot a look at Scarlet.
He’s wearing an eye patch!
Scarlet glared back. I told you so!
‘Little ones,’ he said, with a slight Spanish accent. ‘I regret that we have taken this course of action, but it was necessary.’
‘I demand our release!’ Scarlet said. ‘We are visitors in your country!’
He smiled without humour. ‘Welcome to España,’ he said. ‘My name is Carlos. You may leave at any time, but there is a price.’
‘What do you want?’ Jack asked.
‘You must tell me everything you know about X-29.’
‘That’s going to be easy,’ Jack said, ‘because we don’t know what it is.’
‘That is not the answer I am seeking.’
‘It’s the only one we’ve got.’
Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, its deadly blade glinting in the pale light. ‘Where is X-29?’ he said. ‘Give me its location and you may leave.’
Jack swallowed. ‘We don’t know anything about… X-29. We would tell you if we did.’
‘You will tell me what you know or you will be sorry.’
‘We don’t know anything,’ Scarlet said, her voice cracking with fear. ‘Release us or—’
The man strode towards Scarlet and gripped a handful of her hair. She cried out.
‘Let her go!’ Jack yelled, struggling against the handcuffs. ‘We don’t know anything!’
Carlos waved the knife near Scarlet’s face. ‘Your little girlfriend is very pretty,’ he said. ‘It would be a pity to ruin her looks.’
‘Leave her alone!’ Jack cried. ‘I’ll kill you if you harm her!’
The man shifted the knife in his hand and sliced upwards. An instant later Carlos had a handful of Scarlet’s red hair in his hand. He dropped it to the ground and Scarlet let out a sob.
‘Such beautiful hair,’ Carlos said. ‘It must have taken years to grow.’
He grabbed another handful and sawed through.
Jack swore at the man, but was completely ignored as another bunch of hair was severed. Within seconds, piles of her hair lay everywhere.
‘Where is X-29?’ Carlos asked again.
‘We don’t know!’ Scarlet shouted through angry tears.
‘You think because you are children we will not hurt you? X-29 will bring unlimited riches. A man could live forever on su
ch money. A home in the best suburb. Servants at his feet. A beautiful wife. Hurting a pair of English children is a small price to pay for a lifetime of luxury.’
He marched over to Jack, bringing the knife dangerously close to his face. ‘I have had to live for many years with only one eye,’ he growled. ‘It is sometimes most difficult. Imagine what it would be like to lose both eyes.’
A gunshot rang out. Then another.
‘Que?’ Carlos said, drawing back from Jack. ‘Qué es esto?’
The door flew open and John Fleming appeared. ‘Drop the knife!’ he ordered.
Carlos raised the shining blade. The gun fired. Taking a single, faltering step, Carlos grunted and dropped the weapon to the floor, and then collapsed. Fleming went to one of the man’s pockets, removed a set of keys and had Jack and Scarlet free in seconds.
‘I’m sorry I took so long,’ he said. ‘I was following in my car, but lost sight of you.’
‘The other men—’ Jack started.
‘Dead, but more will come. We’ve got to get out of here.’
Scarlet gingerly felt her ragged hairline. ‘That’s the worst haircut I’ve ever had,’ she said, wiping tears from her face. ‘I don’t know what my hairdresser, Mrs Betts, will say when she sees it.’
‘You’re alive,’ Jack said. ‘That’s the main thing.’
Keeping them close, Fleming led Jack and Scarlet from the room and through to the next chamber, where Carlos’ companions lay motionless on the ground. Jack and Scarlet followed Fleming outside. The evening air was cold, but sweet as honey to Jack.
‘We’re free,’ he said to Fleming. ‘Thanks to you.’
‘That’s my job.’ He led them over to a small steamcar, chugging at the side of the road. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ They piled into the front seat of the car and took off. ‘Mr Doyle is worried sick about you.’
