The Three Thorns

by Michael Gibney

  The loud chatter from the crowd created the very advantage they were waiting for.

  “Shortcut,” Sebastian said, opening an old airshaft that led to Greta’s changing rooms backstage. Both climbed into the airshaft dropping feet first down the chute.

  A group of extras in the pantomime didn’t seem to take notice of Peter and Sebastian’s raucous entrance into the changing rooms when they shot out the bottom end of the airshaft and stumbled over each other. One extra gave out a sarcastic laugh at Peter’s donkey mask that fell off his head and slid across the floor. Struggling to pick it up, Peter and Sebastian slid on the polished wet floor, appearing almost like a comedic duo act.

  Luckily for him, Sebastian’s knight helmet remained securely fastened on his head and was large enough to hide his face.

  “I want you all behind the curtain, now.” Greta belched from behind the changing room door. She was ready to head back out the door when she caught sight of Peter’s donkey costume from the corner of her eye. Sebastian’s heart almost stopped.

  “Well, don’t you two look adorable?” she cackled back at the camouflaged fugitives. Each boy awkwardly nodded back to her at the same time. It was obvious that the woman was too drunk to talk to them further. Dropping her keys at the doorway, Greta pulled the door behind her and slammed it shut. Both boys turned their heads slowly to one another and comically shrugged.

  Sebastian swiped Greta’s keys off the ground. “Now we can lock them in after we sneak out,” Sebastian said excitably. “It’ll better our chances.”

  The curtains rolled and the orchestra stirred until it roared wildly. To the audience’s delight, the show started off strong. Everyone remained glued to their seats, apart from one member who sat in the upper balcony.

  The Inspector’s eyes kept searching around the auditorium for any signs of Sebastian. He had ordered his policing staff to search certain back parts and out of bounds areas of the opera house. Preoccupied giving out his orders, the lethal assassin in disguise hadn’t checked an unlikely blind spot—the main stage, where Sebastian and Peter joined the rest of the extras in one of the crowded battle scenes. It was the last place anyone would think to look.

  But as soon as Peter grabbed Sebastian to make a hasty run for the side exit, an extra unintentionally danced her way in front of his path and accidentally slammed into him. The unforeseen accident caused an immediate domino effect amongst the other extras on stage.

  Just when Sebastian thought their situation couldn’t get much worse, Peter’s unstable donkey mask loosened again and rolled across the stage’s edge, landing directly on top of the musical conductor’s head, fitting his noggin perfectly. The audience burst into fits of roaring laughter at the unexpected and clumsy catastrophe. Even members of the orchestra laughed behind their instruments at the sudden shambles. Viktor stood at the opposite side of the curtain, cursing and shouting in Russian.

  “I think it’s time to run,” Peter yelled, the moment Viktor came hurdling across the stage after him.

  “He hasn’t spotted me. I’ve got the keys to lock them all in. Distract him and I’ll sneak out the side entrance,” Sebastian said.

  Peter nodded and untied the rope that held the large velvet curtains in place. In one fell swoosh the left curtain came crashing down on set pieces, which fell on top of the cast, covering Viktor last. Laughter from the audience gradually changed to loud booing. The sudden disruption of the evening’s entertainment caused many in the audience to leave.

  The Inspector had been too late to notice Sebastian sneak his way through the gang of extras on stage to the side exit of the auditorium. Just as his hands clamped down upon the large handle of the exit doors, Sebastian spotted his dinner suit stuffed into one of the hangers that sat behind the side of the stage. It was a snappy suit complete with newly polished shoes that he was to wear that night after the show. The Cains would usually show him off to exhibit the illusion of a perfect family to those in high society such as the Mayor of London, the press, and other aristocratic and political figures of Parliament or anyone who attended their after-celebration parties on a regular basis, before putting him to work the moment they were home. Not this time, Sebastian thought.

  “Not ever again,” he whispered aloud to himself.

  Folding up his dinner suit around his new shoes that Viktor had purchased for him, Sebastian tucked the light bundle under his arm and headed back toward the exit door.

  As soon as he stepped foot outside the side entrance, Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter stood in front of him, each with a cigar hanging out of their mouth. Two other policemen kept watch for any signs of suspicious activity from the side of the theater, without realizing they had just found it.

  Mr. Jennings sputtered out some leftover chewing tobacco onto the wet cobblestones. “That’s a really shabby costume. Don’t they pay you actors enough to buy something a little bit more believable?”

  Mr. Porter hooted when Mr. Jennings added another negative critique.

  “For goodness sake, you look like an old dustbin. What cheap toot.”

  Sebastian simply pointed inside to the stage through the side doors. The two policemen poked their noses through the door, curious about the loud booing and yelling from the audience. The heavy stomping and clapping from the crowd inside was enough to entice Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter inside for a nosey look.

  Once the policemen and orderlies were inside the building, Sebastian promptly pushed the side door shut behind them and locked it with the key he had picked out by touch. Sebastian had grown so accustomed to locking the theater doors and helping out with waste and rubbish that he’d learnt the shape and size of every key. Just by the sense of touch Sebastian could figure out blue prints, doors, locks and keys without giving it a single thought. It was a natural instinct, like magic.

  Complaints echoed from the rowdy commoners who had paid for cheap seats at the back of the auditorium. The event had stirred an angry mob, all venting their anger at the cast and crew, but mostly at their larger-than-life Russian host.

  Peter had secretly climbed to the top part of the main stage lights to reach the emergency balcony that was used as a fire exit. He was almost at the exit when the Inspector stepped in front of him on the stage rafters.

  “Your disguise almost fooled me, traitor,” the Inspector growled. “What do you think about mine? How do I look?”

  The assassin turned around in its human form like it was admiring itself through a mirror. Peter silently took a few steps back.

  “I have felt your eyes on me the whole time,” it hissed, disgustingly. “Did I fool you…while you were spying on me?”

  “Almost—you need to work on that stench.” Peter smiled, holding his own nose.

  “So, you’re a protector? How pitiful. I can see this rescue isn’t as organized as His Majesty predicted. Very good.”

  The false Inspector sneered at him as it took a step closer upon the rafter. Peter instantly armed himself, taking out his hidden blade from its pouch.

  The assassin put its hands over its head, mimicking a surrendering stance. “You want to run little rabbit…so run. We will catch up,” the false Inspector said, confidently motioning its hand for Peter to leave.

  Peter stood his ground, baffled by the villain’s gesture and irritated by the noisy crowd’s ruckus below. Luckily, the audience’s uproar distracted the assassin enough to lean over the rafter and watch the rowing multitude beneath him.

  Peter took this opportunity gladly, throwing his dagger-like blade at the assassin as fast as he could. But the weapon proved feeble in its impact, bouncing back off the Inspector’s guise and flying steadily back into Peter’s open hand.

  “Much too eager, little cheater,” the false Inspector teased. “It’s never that easy.”

  Peter leapt off the balcony and slid down the theater’s remaining side curtain. Dashing halfway toward the front lobby amidst the crammed crowd, the daring boy squeezed through
several journalists and theater goers who had spilled out onto the London streets.

  “They’re just as powerful here,” Peter said out loud to a little flickering of light that had suddenly appeared from under his sweater. The light was as big as a firefly and rapidly circled the boy a few times then disappeared back into his shirt pocket.

  Sebastian didn’t notice the running boy at first until Peter passed the side of the grand building.

  “Peter, we made it,” Sebastian called out to the panting boy, holding the keys up high over his head.

  Carrying his dinner suit under his other arm, Sebastian led the way through the back alleys and nearby side streets. Running in the middle of the moonlit night, the boys jumped for joy in victory as they crossed the London Bridge.

  When they had made their way to the outskirts of the city, Peter told Sebastian of his close encounter and more about who the Inspector was; frightening information that Sebastian felt he was better off not knowing.

  “Why did the Inspector let you go?” Sebastian asked.

  “It’s not me he wants,” Peter panted. “He’s testing me…to see if the map is a decoy. He mustn’t be sure, or they’d have tracked down the others by now. He wants to know where I’ll lead him next. Now that he’s found you, he’ll follow us to find the others.”

  “Then we shouldn’t lead him there, right?” Sebastian asked, jumping onto the first set of closed train tracks that led out of London.

  “We’ve no choice. Even if we lead the assassin elsewhere, the police have the map, and so does that orderly from Gatesville. We have to get the others out of Warwickshire as soon as we can,” insisted Peter, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

  The journey to Warwickshire wasn’t as fast or easy for them as it had been for Benjamin and Tommy. They frequently sought refuge in different villages, resting in barns and inns where it was safest. The time each dawn approached, they found themselves further away from the city and closer to Jacob O’Malley’s farm. In the morning they would wander through different towns, stealing food from the market place and then later sneaking a ride upon the back of gypsy carriages and farmer trolleys, using the giant haystacks for cover and warmth. The pair journeyed through the great hillsides of England until they reached a train station in the country, one where its tracks led directly north.

  ***

  “Is this Warwickshire?” Sebastian asked. The train station attendant looked hard and curious at the haggard boy.

  “Near enough. One stop ahead of you, young Sirs.”

  “Thank you.” Sebastian smiled nervously at the gawking attendant and scurried over to Peter on the platform.

  “We have to use these tracks. It’s the only way we’ll be sure to stay on course. I can’t afford to get us lost now,” Peter spoke faintly, so that the attendant wouldn’t hear, but it didn’t work.

  “You’re not supposed to travel on those tracks by foot, lads. It’s against the law,” the attendant warned, calling back to them. Peter and Sebastian bided their time and sneaked onto the tracks anyway, when the train attendant helped an inquiring elderly lady.

  After they had run for almost an hour, Peter and Sebastian inhaled deeply, taking in the beautiful summer scent of the countryside’s nature around them. Sebastian’s blistered feet needed a rest but he wouldn’t show his discomfort.

  Peter’s eyes dashed in all directions, feeling a presence of something heading their way; assassins, a mob or a singleton, he couldn’t tell. All they could do now was hope that their own route was enough of a diversion to make it to Benjamin and Tommy before the Inspector or Mr. Jennings would.

  Another hour passed before they approached the platform for Warwickshire where Benjamin and Tommy had arrived six months prior. The moss on the tracks had grown over since then and weeds had sprouted through the cobblestone cracks on the platform. It looked like a neglected pit stop. Not much of a platform existed, for most of it had worn away due to bad weather during the winter. The station even lacked an information booth or post, and it appeared that no train station attendant patrolled the area.

  “There’s no one here,” muttered Sebastian. His voice sounded coarse and groggy, for the air had grown a few degrees cooler now, affecting the boy’s stamina.

  Peter hopped a few feet up from the track onto the unstable platform. Sebastian took the privacy of the derelict area to his full advantage and used the nearby gentlemen’s room.

  “What are you doing?” Peter demanded.

  “I was keeping this good suit for a special occasion. But now that we’ve made it here…I’m going to change out of these horrible rags. Besides, I need to change my shoes most of all. My feet are pounding.”

  The moment Sebastian changed, he appeared as though he could pass for a rich child from Oxford. Peter pointed toward the daunting hill. “My friend has a farm only a few miles beyond that hill.”

  “You mean we have to climb all the way up there?” Sebastian yawned. His tiredness made him grumpy and unwilling. “You could have told me before I changed.”

  “It’s not so tough, I’ve done it before,” Peter said encouragingly, tapping the boy forward.

  Sebastian made a puppy-dog look with his big sad eyes behind his massive spectacle frames and said pleadingly, “But these shoes are new.”

  Onward they climbed for what seemed to be only a few gruelling minutes to the top. To Sebastian’s surprise, the fields behind the hill’s top proved dry and didn’t ruin or stain much of his new attire that he wore proudly. The sumptuous sun-kissed countryside lay before them almost all too opulent to be true. It was a sight Sebastian had only dreamt about when he lived in London’s West End. The scenery even astounded Peter for a brief moment, and then his sight caught something in the near distance.

  A lustrous light glistened in the far secluded part of the forest opposite them. Sebastian was first to look up, but he wasn’t the first to detect the sky. Clouds started to thicken and metamorphose into something that appeared quite unnatural, unnaturally fast. A look of fear crawled over Sebastian’s face as they instinctively took off running down the hill and into the open fields.

  Peter could still see the radiance of what emerged to be firelight a few miles away from them as he led the way to Jacob’s farmhouse. Mr. Jennings and the police had made their own route toward the farmland from the city.

  It was now a matter of which group would reach Jacob first.

  14

  Benjamin’s Twelfth Birthday

  It was massive! The luxurious dessert was covered in thick white cream that oozed from the sides of it. Rows of chocolate layers separated each part of the light flaky sponge and candy sprinkles decorated the icing on top with rainbow colors. It was indeed Benjamin’s first ever birthday cake.

  Jacob had cooked all day in the kitchen using fresh eggs from the chicken coop, goat milk, and a spare packet of flour.

  The evening was bright. Purple clouds covered the skies and dim orange light from the sunset filtered its way through the tall windows in the living room, shining directly onto the birthday cake. Jacob initiated the birthday ritual by lighting the only candle they had on top of the cake.

  And then, right at the moment as Benjamin blew out his only candle, a loud banging came upon Jacob’s wooden farmhouse door.

  Bang! Bang! BANG!

  The sounds of thunderous thumping chilled the boys to the bone. In a few seconds the memories of those Gatesville days came flooding back to Tommy. A rush of blood and adrenaline pumped ceaselessly through Benjamin’s heart.

  Jacob let out a long sigh, as if the expectation of this visit had come to pass.

  “It’s all right,” he said in his reassuring voice, before he calmly walked down the hallway to open the door and greet whoever was making such a racket. Luther was too busy eating his slice of Benjamin’s birthday cake to notice much of what was going on.

  Tommy and Benjamin grew anxious about who it could be loitering outside.
Was it someone coming to take them back to Gatesville? Was it the horrible Mr. Jennings? Both worried that they might have been tricked as Jacob’s calm attitude only fuelled their suspicion.

  At the same time Jacob opened the door, another boy dashed through the doorway and into Benjamin’s path.

  Benjamin braced himself for the head-on collision. Before they knew what had happened, both boys fell to the ground in opposite directions.

  “I didn’t expect you to be this keen to meet each other.” Jacob chuckled loudly, offering both boys a hand.

  The frail, thin boy wiped the carpet hairs from his suit. Fixing his thick, crooked spectacles onto his nose again, he took Jacob’s offered hand to lift him to his feet. Benjamin took a helping hand from Tommy.

  “Watch where you’re running, four eyes,” Tommy scorned.

  “Look who’s talking,” Sebastian replied, after staring at Tommy’s odd set of pupils.

  “Someone else is here to see you, boys,” Jacob interrupted.

  As Jacob slowly took a step aside from the front doorway a figure stood in front of Tommy, casting a shadow over his already startled face.

  “Better late than never,” Tommy snapped.

  “Tommy Joel and Benjamin Brannon, meet Sebastian Cain,” Peter announced.

  Without hesitation Benjamin put out his hand to greet Sebastian and was met with the same enthusiasm. Tommy wasn’t as friendly to Sebastian, or as willing to make a new friend as Benjamin.

  “Boys, this is the third person I was talking about,” Jacob smiled.

  “So, he is why you left us on the train,” Benjamin muttered to Peter.

  A sudden roar of thunder outside interrupted their brief reunion. The sky had darkened and the feeling of an undeniable evil presence quickly swept over the farmland, causing Benjamin to shudder.