The Jade Boy (7 page)

Cleo clambered up on to Tolly’s shoulder.

The seething insect carpet seemed to be flowing up the passageway towards them and all the while, the glow from Tapwick’s candle pulsed stronger and brighter.

Jem heard a gasp.

Ann was now standing two steps behind them, her eyes locked on the wriggling blackness. She stepped between them and reached out for their hands.

“The house is playing tricks on us,” she whispered. “If we truly believe they are not there, they won’t be.”

“But they
are
there. Look at them!” hissed Tolly. “There must be millions of the horrible things!”

“Don’t believe your eyes. Believe your heart. Walk with me.” Ann took a firm step towards the insect mass.

“I can’t,” Tolly replied, pulling her back.

Ann looked at Jem.

“What about you?”

Jem looked at the twitching black mess that now seemed to be swarming high onto the walls overhead.

“I– I don’t know.”

“You must trust me. They are
not
there. Come.”

Ann took another step forward and pulled the unwilling boys with her. Cleo shrieked. Jem looked down at Ann’s determined face and suddenly felt ashamed.

“I believe you. Come on, Tolly, we must do as Ann says.”

Jem took a step forward, so that he was level with Ann.

“Walk with me,” said Ann again, and this time even Tolly took a step forward.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned as they walked grimly towards Tapwick.

“Believe,” whispered Ann, as, in unison, they stepped into the carpet of insects.

As their feet touched the ground the swarm vanished. Just a few feet ahead, Tapwick’s candle flickered and the tufty hairs sticking up from the man’s wig began to jitter.

“Into positions, quickly,” yelled Ann. Snatching the candle from Jem’s hand, she blew the little flame out and tossed it over the bannister into the darkness, before heading back towards her room.

Tolly and Cleo raced off into the gloom and Jem
scudded into position behind the bent little steward.

Tapwick’s frozen foot quivered and then it came down to make contact with the floorboards. He continued to scuttle along the corridor and down the stairs as if nothing at all had happened. Jem followed. When they reached the hallway, the steward turned his parchmenty face up to Jem and scowled.

“Ptolemy will take you to the bridge but no further, mind. He’s needed back here.”

Tapwick raised his nose to sniff the air. “I can smell you and that monkey, boy. Where are you? There’s work to be done.”

“There’s no one here but you and I, sir,” Jem said hurriedly. Tolly and Cleo clearly hadn’t made it back in time.

The man took a step forward and his boot crunched down on the small candle that Ann had flung over the bannister just a minute earlier. He bent down.

“And what do we have here, then?” he said, picking up the candle in his skeletal fingers and raising it to his nose. He turned his sightless eyes on Jem.

“I can smell
your
fingers on this candle, boy. Now, why should that be?”

Tapwick started to sway excitedly from side to side
and for a second Jem was oddly reminded of Count Cazalon’s revolting pet raven. He thought quickly.

“I found it on the stairs earlier, sir, when you took me up to the count’s room. I– I put it in my pocket because I like to read at night, but there are never enough candles at Ludlow House. It must have fallen out through a hole.”

“So you’re a thief, are you?”

Tapwick seemed to be enjoying this.

“No. Not at all. I just thought it wouldn’t be needed. You told me that yourself earlier, sir. You know all the ways here without need of light.”

“Indeed I do, boy,” said Tapwick, thoughtfully turning the candle beneath his nostrils. Then the man leaned in so close that Jem almost choked at the stench of his foul breath.

“But if I ever find that you have been trying to trick me, I’ll make sure that you know all about the ways here, too. And some of ’em aren’t too hospitable, if you get my meaning.”

The man began to giggle at some private joke and little bubbles of spittle appeared at the corners of his lips.

Tapwick wiped his mouth and raised his own candle. “Are you there, moor?”

There was a chirp from Cleo as Tolly stepped into the yellow candlelight and winked at Jem.

“So you’ve finally deigned to join us, have you?” said the blind man, sniffing hard. “You’re to take him to the bridge and no further.”

Tapwick shoved Jem towards the doorway and then raised his hand to smell the candle again. The man’s nose creased and wrinkled as he snuffled.

His sightless eyes closed and he opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped himself, muttering something that sounded like, “No. Not possible – she can’t have done.”

Tapwick shuffled over to the doors and grappled with the huge bolt.

“Be off with you,” he called as the boys – and the monkey – gratefully tumbled down the crumbling steps and into the fading light of a February afternoon.

As the great double doors creaked and juddered to a close behind them it sounded as if the house was muttering to itself.

Jem trudged along behind Tolly, lost in thought. It was getting dark now – the icy streets were
treacherous and it was colder than ever. Tolly had wrapped Cleo into the thick folds of his chequered cloak. She was perched on the boy’s shoulder with her head peeking out next to his. Jem could just see the end of her long white-tipped tail swishing under the red and white material.

Occasionally, Tolly spoke into Jem’s mind, urging him to keep up, but the boys didn’t talk until they turned into a broad street leading down to the river where shops and brightly lit taverns were thronged with noisy customers.

They crunched past a baker’s shop where a man was clearing snow-dusted currant buns from the wooden shelf outside his window. Jem realised that he was ravenous.

He felt for the two coins in his pocket. He knew he would have to use the bridge going back. He didn’t want to skidder across the frozen river – and the dead girl – in the dark.

Jem turned the coins in his fingers and looked at his companions’ hungry faces.

He heard Tolly’s voice in his head. “
If you are thinking about the buns – and I hope you are – the bridge toll is a penny, you’ll still be able to pay your way.
”

Decision made, Jem handed over a coin and
bought four currant buns. Pocketing the treats, the boys slid off down the street towards the southern entrance to the bridge. Fire lamps were now burning at the gateway and a long queue of carts, carriages and people waited to return to the city.

Jem tapped Tolly on the shoulder and pointed down to a sheltered stone archway set into the riverbank. The archway faced onto a small platform, used by boat traders to load and receive goods, and it was deserted apart from the glowing embers of a fire that someone had lit there earlier, when the river itself had been a bustling marketplace.

“Come on,” said Jem, “we can warm ourselves while we eat.”

“And perhaps you can answer some questions,” he added, meaningfully.

The boys picked their way down a short flight of ice-crusted steps to the privacy and shelter of the archway.

“That was fast thinking with Tapwick and the candle back there,” said Tolly aloud, arranging his cloak to sit cross-legged in front of the small fire.

“I’m used to it. Pig Face is always trying to catch me out in the kitchens. And there’s Wormald, too. You met him, remember?”

Tolly snorted. “It would be hard to forget him!”

Jem reached into his pocket for the buns and handed one to Tolly.

“Right. I think you owe me some answers,” he said, decisively, tearing off a curranty morsel and offering it Cleo.

“For a start, who is Count Cazalon and what does he want of me? You two seem so sure that I’m in some sort of danger from him. Why?”

Tolly sighed. “I’ll tell you as much as we know, Jem, but I’m not sure it will help.”

“Well, you can at least try me,” Jem snapped. “After all, I thought it was you two who needed me!”

Tolly caught his meaning.

“No, it’s not that we don’t trust you. It’s just that we don’t know what he’s up to. Even Ann, with all her gifts, can’t make out his intentions.”

“That’s another thing,” said Jem through a mouthful of currants. “I don’t want to be rude, but who
is
Ann anyway?… And for that matter, who are
you
?”

Tolly looked uncomfortable. “Look, I know this is all confusing and difficult, but, please, you must trust us.”

He frowned and huddled Cleo against his side.
“So many stories.” The words were spoken softly, more to himself than to Jem.

Then he looked up and smiled sadly.

“I’ll tell you my story and then you can make up your own mind about me. But I think I’ll need another one of these first.”

Tolly tore a bun in two and offered half to Cleo. He began to speak, but his voice seemed to come from somewhere very far away.

“Once, I had a father, a mother and a baby sister. My father was a good man, a great and powerful man, and my mother was kind and beautiful. We lived in the most wonderful city. Our home was by a wide green river and we were happy. Then traders came. They pretended to be our friends, but they were liars – they tricked us all. They invited our people to a great festival outside the walls by the river. Everyone was so excited. We trusted our new friends and wanted to impress them so we dressed in our finest clothes and brought all our richest goods to trade. But they didn’t want our goods. They wanted us.”

Tolly paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

“When we arrived at the water, five huge black barges were waiting for us. Instead of trade goods,
our
friends
had weapons and we were bound, herded on board and trapped below the decks. Those who fought back were killed. The only people left behind the red earth walls of the city were the old and the sick. Everyone wanted to be at the festival.”

Tolly shuddered. Jem saw that his friend was pulling the remains of the bun in his hands into tiny, tiny pieces.

“We sailed up the river for days, perhaps weeks, all of us crushed together in the dark and filth of the barges. At first we talked, sometimes we sang, but eventually we fell silent. All apart from the smallest children… I remember my little sister crying in the dark and my mother trying to comfort her. Some people became very sick. For a long time I was chained to a dead man, Jem. Can you imagine what that was like?”

Jem shook his head.

“My father was so angry. He promised us that when we stood on the ground in the open air again, he would call up a storm and destroy the traders and their boats.

“Then, one day, the doors were thrown open and blinding light flooded into our prison. We were dragged from the barges and forced to line up on
a long stone quay. I’d always thought my beautiful home was the biggest place in the world, but the city where we now found ourselves was huge. It was called Alexandria, in the place your people know as
Egypt
. So many people, so many buildings, so much noise… We were terrified.”

Tolly looked deep into the fire, as if he could see the scene he was describing flickering in the flames.

“Only my father was strong and brave. He began the chant to call up the storm he had promised, but the traders knew of his power. They made him kneel in the dust and the sand on the riverbank. They whipped him… and then they cut out his tongue.”

Tolly stopped.

Horrified by what he had heard, Jem reached over to touch his friend’s shoulder. Tolly tensed and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“It was the first time I heard a voice in my head. My father spoke to me that day, after they ripped out his tongue. As he lay in the dust, I heard his voice telling me to be strong, telling me to protect my mother and sister.”

He took another deep breath. Jem knew Tolly was trying not to cry, so he looked away.

“I never saw my father again after that day.
The women and children were separated from the men and were taken in chains to the marketplace. We were sold like animals, right there on the quay. My mother fought to keep me with her, but the traders knew a strong boy was more valuable when sold alone.

“Sometimes, at night, in my dreams, I hear her calling out my true name, just as she did when I was dragged away from her and my sister.”

Tolly looked straight at Jem. “On the day that Count Cazalon bought me, I had seen six great floods – so, in your world, I was six years old.”

Jem didn’t know what to say. Tolly’s words made him feel ashamed of ever feeling sorry for himself. Wormald and Pig Face were nothing compared to this. At least he had a mother who loved him, sometimes.

After a moment he stammered, “And your mother, did you ever see her again?”

Tolly shook his head.

“That day on the quayside was the last time I saw my family. Within three days Cazalon boarded a ship for London and I was part of his baggage – as was Cleo here.”

Tolly fondled the monkey’s ears – she had crept
into his lap as he spoke. Her head was now poking out of the front of his cloak and she was peering up at him anxiously. “I don’t know what I would have done without her company during the voyage. And since.”