The Mask of Destiny (26 page)

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Authors: Richard Newsome

Tags: #JUV000000, #JUV001000, #JUV037000

BOOK: The Mask of Destiny
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Gerald's ears popped as the bus pulled to a stop. It had taken three hours to get to Delphi and the contrast between this place and the jumble of Athens couldn't have been greater.

They had driven along a narrow ridge for the last ten kilometres. On the high side were the rocky slopes of Mt Parnassus. Beneath them, the slope fell away to a valley shrouded in the grey-green haze of olive groves. Beyond the valley the distant waters of the Gulf of Corinth shimmered in the early evening sun.

Gerald, Sam and Ruby jumped down from the bus onto a narrow road that wound back through the centre of town. Gerald looked up at the barren cliff face that seemed to lean over them. ‘The most seismically active country in Europe, you say.'

Ruby followed his gaze to the boulder-strewn landscape above them. ‘That's what the book said.'

‘I'll try to keep the earthquakes to a minimum,' Sam said as he shouldered his pack. ‘What are we doing? Looking for a hotel?'

They started the slow walk into town. Cars were parked up on the footpaths on both sides of the road, leaving only a narrow gap for the occasional vehicle to squeeze through.

‘After what happened on Mont-Saint-Michel, I'm not sure a hotel is a great idea,' Gerald said.

‘Wherever we go, it needs to have a laundry,' Ruby said. ‘You two are foul.'

Sam looked at Ruby in surprise. ‘It's only been a few days.' He stuck his nose into his armpit. ‘I can't smell a thing.'

Ruby recoiled in disgust. ‘Then your nose must have packed it in. I've smelled sweeter road kill.'

Gerald felt a tug at his elbow. A young boy was looking up at him.

‘Do you need a place to stay?' the boy asked in perfect English. His manner was businesslike. ‘I have a good place for you.'

The top of the boy's head barely reached Gerald's chest but he stood on the path as if he was the Mayor of Delphi. His jet black hair swept across his forehead in an elaborate wave, framing a pair of dark eyes that seemed a half size too big for his head. He couldn't have been more than ten years old.

‘What's so good about your place, then?' Sam said. ‘You got a swimming pool filled with ice?'

The boy stared blankly at Sam. ‘It is clean, it is cheap, and it is close by.' He frowned. ‘We do not have a swimming pool.'

Sam grinned and looked to the others. ‘Sounds good to me,' he said. Gerald and Ruby nodded—close by was good.

‘Show us the way, boss,' Sam said.

The boy gave Sam another curious look, then set off up the road. Gerald and Ruby followed as Sam chatted with the boy. He led them past lines of gift shops, with dusty window displays stacked with reproduction busts of various Greek deities. Restaurants were opening their doors for the first of the early diners. Gerald peered through the door of one to see a dining room overlooking a spectacular view of the valley and the waters of the gulf.

‘You really feel like you're clinging to the side of a cliff here,' Ruby said.

Gerald looked up to the mountain on the opposite side of the road. The twilight had painted the rocks in yellows and ochres. ‘I wouldn't mind having a climb up there,' he said.

‘You might have to yet,' Ruby said.

‘How do you mean?'

‘I've been thinking. That lost treasure could be anywhere—in the valley, in the town, even up in those hills. And if that vile Charlotte woman is here, she's bound to have some idea where to look. Mason Green was always two steps ahead of us.'

‘You think Green would have told her where it's hidden?'

‘Or she extracted it from him with one of her potions, the witch.'

A few paces ahead, Sam was still trying to strike up a conversation with their guide.

‘What's your name?' Sam asked.

‘Nicolas,' the boy answered.

‘Yeah? I've got a joke for you. You'll like this one.'

The boy didn't look like he was into jokes.

‘Okay?' Sam said, trying to stop himself from laughing. ‘Knock, knock.'

Nicolas blinked at Sam. ‘What do you mean, knock knock?'

‘It's a joke. I say: “Knock knock”, then you say: “Who's there?”'

‘But you are there,' the boy said.

‘I know I am. But I'm not the one knocking at the door.'

‘But you just said knock knock.'

‘I know I did…look, just say “Who's there?”, okay?'

The boy blinked again. ‘Okay.'

‘Right. Knock knock.'

‘Who's there?'

‘Nicolas.'

There was a pause. ‘But I'm Nicolas.'

‘Yes, I know you're Nicolas. That's the point.'

‘So why would I answer the door if I am the one knocking on it?'

‘Don't worry about that.'

‘It would be pointless. If I am already inside the house, why should I knock on the door? Am I an idiot?'

‘Just say “Nicolas who?”'

‘What?'

‘When I say “Nicolas”, just say “Nicolas who?”'

‘Have I forgotten who I am?'

‘Just say it, okay?'

The boy shrugged. ‘Okay.'

‘Right. Knock knock.'

‘Who's there.'

‘Nicolas.'

‘Nicolas who?'

Sam could barely contain himself. ‘Nicolas girls shouldn't climb trees!'

The boy stared blankly at Sam. ‘Now what do I do?'

Sam stopped laughing. ‘You laugh.'

‘At what?' Nicolas said. He looked around, surprised by the sound of Ruby and Gerald in fits of giggles.

‘You can call me Nico,' the boy said to Sam.

Ruby wiped the tears from her eyes and tapped Nico on the shoulder. ‘Don't worry about him,' she said, tapping her head and indicating with a nod. ‘It's the heat. Is your place far?'

They had come to a set of stone steps that ran up between two shops. Nico nodded towards the stairs. ‘Not far,' he said, and started to climb.

Sam bounded after him. ‘Hold on,' he called. ‘I've got another one.'

Gerald nudged Ruby with an elbow as they made their way up the stairs. ‘Sam seems to get on well with little kids,' he said.

‘He always has,' Ruby said. ‘It's a very sweet part of his nature. I don't have the patience. But Sam really enjoys talking with them. Though this kid's sharper than most.'

The stairs seemed to go on forever. Gerald's thighs were still suffering from the Paris bike ride and he was relieved when they reached a shaded doorway. They followed Nico inside. Gerald dropped his backpack from his shoulders and let his eyes adjust to the dark interior of what appeared to be a neat but modest bed and breakfast. An older woman dressed entirely in black sat at a table in a corner of a lounge room. She was shelling peas into a metal bowl. A small television on a bench flickered in the dark—some afternoon game show was on.

Nico spoke to the woman in Greek and she gave the newcomers the once over. Then she spoke back to Nico. ‘My aunt says it costs thirty euros per night,' he said. ‘For each of you. Breakfast included.'

Gerald took his wallet from his pocket and pulled out some notes. ‘I guess we'll be here for a few nights,' he said, and handed the money to the woman. She counted it, twice, and slid it under the bowl on the table. She nodded at Nico and he led them down a hallway to a large bedroom at the far end.

‘You are the only ones staying here,' Nico said. He pushed the door open.

Sam elbowed Gerald and Ruby out of the way to be first inside. ‘Cool!' he said. ‘Bunk beds. I've got the top one.' He clambered up a ladder and launched himself across the mattress.

Nico gave Sam one last curious look then left them alone.

Gerald dropped onto the lower bunk and Ruby kicked off her shoes and flopped onto a single bed against the opposite wall.

‘Aaah,' she sighed. ‘This is the first proper bed I've been in for days.' She crooked a foot onto her knee and massaged her toes. ‘So we've got a place to sleep. Now what do we do?'

‘Sleep,' mumbled Sam from the top bunk.

Gerald sat up and emptied his pack onto the end of his bunk. Out tumbled his head lamp, Ruby's guide book, some pencils, scraps of paper and a lot of lolly wrappers. The last thing to tumble out was the ruby. He looked down at the sorry pile.

‘Not much to go on, is it?'

‘We should get new batteries for those torches,' Ruby said. ‘You never know.'

Gerald picked up a scrunched piece of paper. After the dunking in the grotto in France it had dried into a tight ball. He tried to flatten it out but it disintegrated in his hands.

‘Was that the drawing of Mont-Saint-Michel?' Ruby asked.

Gerald nodded. ‘Yep, the thing that got us started on this chase.'

Sam spoke up from the top bunk. ‘You should try drawing something, Gerald. See if we can't jolt a clue out of you.'

‘I had the three gemstones last time we did it, in India,' Gerald said. ‘But I guess we could give it a try with one.'

Sam jumped down from his bunk and the three of them faced each other in the middle of the room. Gerald put his pencil on top of a notebook on a side table. He picked up the gemstone in his left hand.

‘Are we ready?' he said.

Sam and Ruby nodded. Then the three of them held out their right arms and formed a triangle. Gerald looked down at the ruby in his palm. It's dark heart remained dull.

He raised his eyes to Sam and Ruby.

Both stared back.

Nothing happened.

‘Well?' said Ruby. ‘Anything?'

Gerald shook his head. ‘Not even a tingle. Nothing at—hey!'

Sam had suddenly clamped down hard on Gerald's elbow, his hand shaking uncontrollably.

Sam's eyes rolled back, the whites exposed. His mouth dropped open and an other-worldly voice rolled out like a chariot through the gates of hell. ‘I am the messenger…'

The voice was unhuman. Demonic.

Ruby gasped. ‘Sam?'

‘I have a message…'

‘Sam?'

‘The one you call Sam,' the voice rasped. ‘The good looking one…he is extremely hungry…'

Ruby dropped her grip and shoved her brother hard in the chest. Sam collapsed onto the bottom bunk, convulsing with laughter.

‘You idiot,' Ruby muttered.

Tears welled in Sam's eyes. ‘The look on your face,' he said. ‘That was priceless.'

Ruby's eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Are you quite finished?'

Sam rolled upright and gasped for breath. ‘You've got to have a good laugh,' he said. ‘Now, let's eat.'

Walking down the stone stairway from Nico's house was far easier than going up. They stepped onto the main street.

‘What do you feel like eating?' Gerald asked.

Ruby pointed up the street, ‘Let's try this way,' and she set off.

She breezed straight past half a dozen cafes and restaurants, each with enticing aromas wafting through the doors.

‘What's wrong with these places?' Sam asked, struggling to keep up.

‘Just a bit further,' Ruby said over her shoulder. ‘You and your inner food demon are going to have to be patient.'

Gerald jogged along to catch up with Ruby. ‘Are you looking for anything specific?'

‘No,' she replied, maintaining her determined march forward. ‘Just teaching hollow legs back there a lesson.'

She increased her pace. Every shout of complaint from Sam as he trailed further behind seemed to generate a fresh spurt of energy.

In quick time they passed right through the village and onto a walkway that ran along the ridge. The valley was laid out beneath them to the right; barren cliffs soared above them to the left.

‘Where are you going?' Sam shouted out, now a good twenty metres behind Ruby and Gerald.

‘I think there's a good place a bit further on,' Ruby called back. ‘Not far to go.'

Gerald smirked. ‘You're evil, you know that?'

‘Only when I'm pushed,' Ruby said evenly.

They rounded a bend and the valley opened up, revealing a sight that stopped them in their tracks. Sam finally caught up with them.

‘What's with the route march?' he puffed. ‘Where are—' He stopped mid-sentence.

They stared down at an ancient ruin on a broad terrace beneath the ridge.

It was a rotunda, set on a platform with three steps encircling it. Three of the building's towering columns were intact; the rest were broken stubs that marked out the perimeter, like a mouthful of busted teeth.

Gerald couldn't believe his eyes.

‘It's exactly the same,' he breathed. ‘Exactly the same as the burial chamber under Beaconsfield.'

Chapter 19

T
hey scrambled down the path towards the rotunda, shoes skidding over loose stones.

Chunks of white marble were strewn across the grass like discarded toy blocks from the gods. Gerald jogged down a broad path of crushed stone, with the eerie sensation that it was a trail trodden hard by the feet of millions of pilgrims before him.

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