Skip: An Epic Science Fiction Fantasy Adventure Series (Book 3)

by Perrin Briar

  Chapter Thirteen

  The hallways and corridors became emptier of visitors the farther into the museum Elian went. He finally came to the corner that led to the Rare Artefacts room. He stood there, waiting. The guard would be standing behind him there now.

  Elian looked to the left and saw Jera in her black dress. She pretended to be looking at a painting on the wall. Really, she was waiting for the signal from Elian out the corner of her eye. Her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, but she still looked great. Elian nodded. Showtime.

  Jera turned and dragged her bag across the floor, positioning herself in front of the guard. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew out an exhausted puff of air. She turned and started, as if surprised to find a guard there. He was huge. Almost seven feet tall and almost as wide.

  “Oh,” she said. “Hello. I’m about to leave the city to live in a new town. Thought I’d see some of the sights one last time before I went. Not such a good idea as it turns out. I’ve been dragging my bag around with me all day.”

  The guard said nothing, and just stared ahead. Jera bent down and pulled on the bag again. It moved about an inch.

  “It’s no good,” she said. “I can’t move it anymore. I only wish there was a big strong man here to help me.”

  She looked back over her shoulder at the guard and fluttered her eyelashes. But again, he didn’t respond. Elian checked his watch. They were running out of time.

  “Would you help me?” Jera said flatly.

  No response.

  “Hello?” Jera said. “Are you made of stone? I need some help here. A lady’s in distress and you don’t leap to aid her? What kind of world are we living in?”

  The guard blinked.

  “I’ll have to just go find a gentleman who will help me,” Jera said.

  The guard bent down and picked up her bag as if it was a feather. He carried it down the corridor, with Jera by his side.

  “Thank you,” she cooed. “You are a gentleman.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We’ve had a breakthrough,” Dr Slyman said with a smile that took up his whole face.

  He looked strange without his white coat on, almost as if he were naked. Behind him his assistants stood in a line with armloads of journals and books. They were in the clocktower, the golden pieces had lost a good deal of their shine and had big cracks across their surfaces.

  “It’s very strange,” Dr Slyman said, “but unlike all other clocks that change time after a skip happens, this clock appears to precede it and actually change before it happens. It’s a miniscule difference, perhaps of only a few nanoseconds, but it’s there.”

  Gregory leaned forward in a leather armchair they had brought in especially for him. His mouth felt dry.

  “What does that mean?” he said.

  “We found something in the journals about how to fix it.”

  Gregory sat up straight. Dr Slyman approached a man holding a journal and flipped through the pages. Finding what he was looking for, he moved to the cracked pieces on the wall.

  “Each of these objects has a unique name,” he said. “The Cog of Fate, the Wheel of Fortune, and the Chain of Destiny. It appears they each have a replacement part somewhere in the world.”

  Gregory stopped breathing.

  “Do you know where?” he said.

  “Yes,” Dr Slyman said. “The writer of these materials made a map.”

  He flicked through the journals the assistants held with an incredible lack of speed. Gregory’s hand formed a fist of impatience.

  “It’s here somewhere,” Dr Slyman said. “I put a piece of coloured paper in it… Ah, here it is.”

  A dust curtain fell from a stained and ragged journal when Dr Slyman took it from an assistant. A page, dry and rough with age, fluttered to the ground. Gregory picked it up.

  It was a hand-drawn map, not at all to scale, but had a few key landmarks. Using these, Gregory could picture where the real locations were in his mind. Dr Slyman read from the journal.

  “The writer made a series of notes in red ink in the margins,” he said. “‘And so, three pieces of the clock were given; one to each of the greatest and most everlasting peoples in the land. The Chain of Destiny to the scholarly Goleuni, whose knowledge and skills shall never be underappreciated. The chain is a symbol of their ability to bring people together under a single idea. The Wheel of Fortune to the fairy folk who guard our world and ensure balance amongst all its people and creatures. And finally, the Cog of Fate was given to the ancient Tangents who maintain life on our world.’”

  “Where is the location of each of these pieces?” Gregory said.

  “The chain is in the Rumble Jungle, the wheel in the Haunted Forest, and the cog under the dead Tangent’s Tree at Earth’s End.”

  Gregory peered closer at the broken objects. Something about one of the pieces, the cog, jumped out at him. A memory began to worm its way into his consciousness. The image became clearer to him. It was sat on a piece of red cloth… Soft red cloth… Behind a sheet of glass…

  “Sir, I-” Dr Slyman said.

  “Sh,” Gregory said, holding up a hand. “I’m remembering something.”

  But the image was already fogging up and becoming indistinct. Gregory growled and banged his fist on the arm of his chair. Dr Slyman started.

  “I’ve seen something like this before,” Gregory said, “but I can’t quite remember where.”

  “Have you ever been to any of these places?” Dr Slyman said.

  “Yes, all of them.”

  “Then it’s quite possible you may have strolled right past them without knowing it. It’s quite an easy thing to do. It’s not like they’re on display.”

  Dr Slyman waved his hand for his assistants to leave. They piled the books on the table.

  “There’s little else we can do,” Dr Slyman said. “As time is fast slipping through our fingers, my assistants and I were wondering if we might be able to return home.”

  He turned to look at Gregory, and found his expression was frozen into a grin.

  “On display?” Gregory said. “On display! Of course! Now I remember where I saw it!”

  Gregory got up and paced up and down the room, coming dangerously close to the swinging pendulum, but he didn’t notice.

  “That’s why Stump’s been travelling to these places!” he said. “He’s collecting the clock’s spare parts to control time himself! First the jungle, then the forest, and now the earth! Only he won’t find it there! It’s not there! But I know where it is.”

  He straightened, a big smile on his face.

  “I must get word to Richard.”

  He ran from the room.

  “But sir…” Dr Slyman said. “Our free time…”

  But he was too late, Gregory was already gone. Dr Slyman hung his head.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Richard came out of the hearing room. He hated that room. It wasn’t a hearing room, but a shouting room. Richard put his hand to his head and moved his jaw around. He had a ringing in his ears from his father’s latest berating. And he didn’t even know the Wythnos girls were missing!

  “Excuse me, sir,” a servant with a large nose said, “there’s a message for you.”

  Richard took the message off the silver tray. His eyes widened as he read it.

  “When did this come?” he said.

  “About ten minutes ago, sir.”

  “Why didn’t you bring this to me earlier? You fool!”

  Richard seized the man by the lapels. The servant dropped the tray in surprise.

  “Are you in it with them?” Richard said. “You are, aren’t you?”

  The servant struggled to breathe.

  “I was told by Master Ascar that he was not to be interrupted under any circumstances,” he said.

  “Yes,” Richard said, holding up the message. “Any circumstances but this!”

  The door to the hearing room opened.

  “What the devil�
�s going on out here?” Terence said.

  Richard let the servant go. The servant straightened his lapels, picked up the tray and ran away down the corridor.

  “I just got a message from Gregory,” Richard said. “There’s going to be a heist.”

  “Where?”

  “In the Ascar National Museum.”

  Terence’s face drained of blood.

  “That’s your responsibility, isn’t it?” Richard said. “I wonder how disappointed father will be in you if they succeed.”

  “You must stop them!” Terence said.

  “Don’t worry, I intend to. With any luck they might not have even started yet.”

  Richard turned and ran down the corridor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elian entered the Rare Artefacts room and was relieved to find the Mooney flowers were not yet present. He looked up at the sky through the glass ceiling. It was orange, fast fading to yellow. It wouldn’t be long before the Mooneys put in an appearance.

  Elian approached the Cog of Fate. Even in the dying light it shone like a newborn star.

  “Excuse me.”

  Elian jumped, rising a foot in the air. A young woman and her son stood behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” the young woman said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s no problem,” Elian said. “How can I help?”

  “We’re looking for the exit but seem to have gotten a little lost. Could you direct us out, please?”

  Elian looked down at the emblem on his uniform.

  “Certainly,” he said, bluffing. “Go down this corridor, turn right and keep going.”

  “Thank you. It’s like a maze in here.”

  Elian watched the mother and son leave the room. The moment they were gone he took the key on its cord off from around his neck and inserted it into the lock. It fit. He breathed a sigh of relief. He turned the key. It stuck and did not turn. He tried again with the same result.

  “No!” Elian said. “No!”

  Just then he heard a deep creaking sound like two bricks rubbing together. At the joints between where the tiles met the Mooney flowers began to sprout.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grandfather Time sat on the roof of a building looking up at the moon. It shone dully up in the velvet night, a few clouds blocking an otherwise perfect scene. His mind wandered to advanced mathematical principles that governed the world and the universe, and he floated away. It was like meditation to him. It gave him a release, both calm and relaxing, letting him know he was an insignificantly small part of the universe.

  Down in the streets below, a streaming blaze of white flew through the streets on hooves muffled with leather as a large contingent of the Force pulled up beside the kerb in front of the museum. A horse snorted, and then neighed into the night. A constable soothed it with a calming hand.

  Grandfather Time started from his reverie. His eyes bulged at the sight of the Force. He turned and angled his metal sheet at the museum’s roof, letting the moonlight catch it and pulse frantically. Grandfather Time didn’t know Morse code and couldn’t relay any information other than the fact that the Force was there. Unsure of what to do next, he hesitated, and then began to hobble down the stairs to the street below.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They descended the stairs to the kerbside where the carriages congregated. The large guard set Jera’s bag down onto the loading bay of a waiting carriage.

  “Thank you so much!” Jera said. “Please, let me give you something.”

  She reached into her handbag. The guard waved her off.

  “No, no,” he said in his deep bassy voice. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A large contingent of the Force coalesced at the museum’s steps. A man in front, who Jera recognised as Richard, barked orders, pointing and gesturing. The guard hadn’t noticed them. Yet.

  “Well, I want to give you something,” Jera said. “How about a kiss?”

  The guard blinked in surprise. Then he smiled. He leaned down. Jera kissed him on the cheek, which turned crimson red. Most of the Force had dispersed by now, either entering through the main entrance or rounding the corners to the other entrances.

  The guard took her hand and helped her into the carriage. He waved her off as the carriage pulled away. He touched his cheek and smiled. He turned to head back into the museum, and started at the sight of a hundred white uniformed men surrounding the museum.

  Through a rectangular window in the carriage, Jera could make out the driver’s legs. Lewis’s face, upside down, lowered into view.

  “How’d it go?” he said.

  “Fine. But the Force arrived! Do you think he’ll be all right?”

  “If his reputation can be believed, Elian Stump is always all right.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We are definitely not all right,” Elian said outloud.

  Silvery moonlight shone through the glass roof onto the Rare Artefacts room. The Mooneys blossomed, spreading their petals wide to absorb every ray of light. A dozen vines stretched across the floor from each flower, linking together to form a giant latticework. Along the walls, long-fluted flowers poked out and hung pointing at the centre of the room.

  “This isn’t good,” Elian said. “Plan B it is.”

  Elian kept his feet still, not moving a muscle. He reached into his jacket and extracted the vial of green liquid. He removed the stopper and tipped the liquid over the glass container. The glass sizzled and popped, melting before his eyes. A shard of glass fell on the floor, striking a vine, which seized it, and four poisonous needles from the wall flowers smacked into it, shattering it into a dozen pieces.

  “This is really not good,” Elian said, wide eyed.

  The acid had done its work, and made a hole in the glass cabinet. Elian reached in, fingers first, and fed his arm through the hole. His arm caught at the elbow. He stretched for the cog, his fingertips grazing it, but he couldn’t reach any farther.

  “Come on,” Elian said. “Please.”

  With his index and middle fingers he attempted to pincer the cog, but it only slipped farther from his reach. Elian hung his head.

  “Plan C,” he said.

  He reached into his front pocket, finding a fuzzy round ball. He picked Puca up and held him in his palm. He was snoring. Elian poked him.

  “Puca,” he said. “Wake up. Puca.”

  Puca blinked with heavy eyelids.

  “It’s time for Plan C. Just like we practiced. Remember?”

  Elian turned Puca so he could see the glass container.

  “Get the golden cog,” Elian said, pointing at it. “Get the golden cog.”

  Puca yawned and rolled back up into a ball.

  “Puca, wake up!”

  Puca yawned.

  “Listen, Puca. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. But this is more important than us. This is about saving the universe. Can you squeeze in through this hole? Can you get the golden cog?”

  Puca stared back at him, sniffling his nose. He nodded, and then rubbed his eyes. Elian lowered Puca through the hole and into the glass box, not letting go.

  “Grab the golden cog,” Elian said.

  Puca gripped it with his tiny paws. Elian pulled, but Puca lost his grip, and dropped it.

  “Let’s try again.”

  Elian lowered Puca back down. He gripped it again. Elian pulled puca and the cog up out through the hole. Elian didn’t breathe until he had it in his hand.

  “Yes!” Elian said. “Well done!”

  He hugged Puca and kissed him.

  “Eugh!” Elian said, wiping his lips. “Remind me to give you a bath after all this is over.”

  Puca poked his tongue out. Elian looked out over the ground and walls smothered by green vines and poisonous bulbs.

  “Now we just have to figure out a way to get past this natural assault course of doom. But at least we can take our time.”

  Footsteps thund
ered down the corridor just outside the door. It did not sound like a single guard.

  “Or maybe not,” Elian said.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What are you doing away from your post?” Richard said as they marched through the museum’s empty corridors.

  “I was just helping a lady…” the large guard said.

  “While you were helping her, someone was robbing the museum!”

  They rounded a corner and came to the Rare Artifacts room. The floor and walls were covered with thick vines and Mooney flowers. The room appeared to be empty, but that didn’t mean someone might be hiding behind a stone plinth.

  “I know you’re in there, Stump,” Richard said. “Give yourself up! You’ve got nowhere to go!”

  Silence answered him.

  “Have it your way,” Richard said.

  He turned to the guard.

  “Deactivate the Mooneys,” Richard said.

  “I’m afraid we can’t sir,” the large guard said. “That’s why they were chosen in the first place.”

  “I need to get into that room. Deactivate them.”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” the large guard said.

  He looked out at the impossible assault course before him.

  “Can I take that for a moment?” he said, gesturing to a constable’s shield.

  The constable handed it over. The guard took a deep breath. He stepped into the room, looking up at the plants along the walls and floor. He slammed the shield down, severing the vines on the floor, and then raised the shield. There was a series of TINGs. The large guard opened his eyes and peered down at the shield. Half a dozen pink needles protruded. The large guard moved forward.

  A snare caught his leg, but he twisted, and it pulled off his boot. Another snare caught his other boot, then his socks, and his trousers. Puffing and panting and out of breath, he got to the middle of the room, before the empty cabinet. Sweat ran down his face, red with exhaustion.