History Keepers: Nightship to China (32 page)

Zhu clambered onto the listing platform at the prow, smiling regally. When the townspeople saw who it was, they cheered and clapped, finally breaking into song. The young prince waved back, even doing a little dance for their benefit.

Nathan turned to Jake and raised his eyebrows. ‘Flamboyance? Are we responsible for that?’ he whispered. ‘Next thing we know, he’ll be throwing a fancy-dress ball with a rococo theme.’

Hong Wu, the thin man in black who had first accompanied the History Keepers onto the ship, came to ask what should be done with the commander’s coffin. Yoyo quickly took charge, supervising the sad task as it was transported to the
Thunder
, which was still moored at the pier. When the History Keepers went to say their goodbyes to Zhu, the smile left his face, and he looked them up and down.

‘I will not allow you to go back to England now,’ he said sternly, making Jake glance at Topaz in alarm. But then his face relaxed into a smile. ‘You will have dinner with me first.’

Chinese lanterns were lit all around the deck and the large map table in the centre was laid out for a feast (one end had to be adjusted to compensate for the slope). More lanterns lit up the rigging, red globes with golden tassels luminous against the dusky sky.

Hong Wu came scurrying up to Yoyo and whispered something in her ear. She looked over her shoulder and Jake did the same. They could just make out, laid on the deck of the
Thunder
, a glint of green – Galliana’s jade coffin, with a platoon of soldiers standing guard. Then Jake saw something else that made his heart quicken: a solitary figure standing at the end of the pier. He had a spindly moustache and a long white beard, and Jake realized that it was the fortune-teller they had met earlier.

One of you will die
, he had said.

He had been right.

The History Keepers set off at first light. They had decided to take Xiang’s submarine back to Point Zero with them; it could be added to the fleet. No one really wanted to crew it – Philip volunteered first, followed by Jake; but Yoyo said that they had been through enough –
she
would take it. Nathan insisted on accompanying her. To his surprise, she agreed.

Topaz and the Djones brothers watched them go off together, chatting amiably.

‘They seem to be getting on better,’ Jake noted.

‘Maybe they have more in common than they realize,’ Topaz replied.

They climbed aboard the
Thunder
, pausing for a moment in silence beside Galliana’s coffin, then prepared to set sail. Ship and submarine went in tandem, skirting around the flotilla, across the bay and out to sea, heading towards Vietnam.

When it came to taking the atomium, Jake asked what they should do with Galliana. Topaz reminded him that inanimate objects were carried through the time flux by
living
things: they simply had to stay close to her.

‘Yes – yes, of course,’ Jake stammered, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. Just yesterday Galliana had been commander of the service; now she was no longer a
living
thing. Philip put his arm around him as Topaz went off to write a Meslith to Point Zero. She needed to pass on the good news about Philip – and the bad . . .

As they approached the horizon point, just after lunch, Nathan came up through the hatch of the submarine and called across the choppy waters, ‘Good luck, you three. See you on the other side.’

They all waved back, and within moments they were taking off out of their bodies, soaring high over the earth, into the silence of the upper atmosphere. Jake could see the islands of Indonesia, the expanse of the Indian Ocean, and across to the eastern coast of Africa. Then everything spun out of focus, like a wheel suddenly accelerating. The next thing Jake knew, he was flying, his brother and Topaz close by. It felt as if they were moving at the speed of light, but still the Earth took a long time to come back into focus. At last they fell towards the pale seas of the eastern Atlantic – and Jake caught sight of the
Thunder
, north of the Spanish coast. Closer still, he spotted himself on deck, next to Philip and Topaz, standing guard over the green jade box.

He returned to his body with such a jolt that he stumbled back and would have fallen if the others hadn’t caught him. He noticed a change in the weather: the breeze was fresh here. A few moments later, a little way off, the sea started foaming; there was a hiss of air, a sharp flash of light and the submarine surfaced.

They were on their way home.

BY TEA TIME
, the two vessels were approaching the Mont St Michel. Jake noticed a great mass of colour: the History Keepers were gathered for their commander’s final homecoming.

‘That’s the biggest welcoming party I’ve ever seen,’ Topaz said as she, Jake and Philip watched from the rail. Over her shoulder she carried a satchel containing the Lazuli Serpent and Caravaggio’s portrait of Philip and Xi. They had all agreed that these priceless items needed to be kept safe in the castle vaults.

Jake surveyed the gathering. Over a hundred agents, each dressed in the finest clothes of their own time and place, stood to attention.

‘The commander hated black,’ Topaz commented. ‘That’s why everyone is dressed like that.’ Even Jupitus Cole wore white instead of his trademark dark morning suit. Charlie stood nearby, in an outfit every bit as bright as the parrot on his shoulder. Next to him, Oceane Noire, who looked much healthier, wore a dusky pink. Just behind them stood Fredrik Isaksen, his face stern but his eyes glistening.

As Philip Djones scanned the faces, he clutched the rail tightly and took a deep breath.

‘They’re not as scary as they look . . .’ His younger brother smiled, aware that Philip hadn’t set eyes on them for years.

Suddenly Jake had a terrible thought –
Olive, the commander’s beloved pet. What would become of her?
At this very moment he saw Signor Gondolfino clutching the dog tightly in his arms, stroking her and whispering in her ear. Jake was certain, by the stoic look on the hound’s face, that somehow she already knew . . .

The
Thunder
docked, and the submarine pulled up behind. No one moved or spoke as two gangplanks were put in place.

Philip alighted first, followed by Jake, and their feet had barely touched solid ground before a piercing shriek cut through the silence. Miriam, tears rolling down her face, had pushed her way to the front, Rose and Alan just behind her. The boys disappeared into such a flurry of kisses and embraces that you could barely tell one Djones from the other. Felson, barking with delight, jumped up and gave his share of kisses too.

Commander Galliana Gisella Ariadne Goethe was buried early the next morning, in the shadow of the willow tree next to the giant marble hourglass. Two paintings – one of her son, the other of her husband, both by Rembrandt and never seen by anyone except the History Keepers – were carefully laid beside her. Many people stood forward to speak, with funny reminiscences or tales of astonishing bravery. Rose Djones went last and spoke with great wit.

‘None of you know this,’ she said in conclusion, holding out her carpetbag, ‘but Galliana gave this to me on my very first mission, when I was just fifteen years old. It belonged to her mother, who—’ She broke off, then went on instead: ‘It has protected me all these years. I would now like to give it back to her, so that it may protect her on whatever journey she is now taking.’

As she laid it carefully in the grave, a peculiar thing happened: the stern Jupitus Cole let out a sudden choking sob. Rose turned to him as he clamped his hands over his face, his shoulders heaving.

‘Feelings . . .?’ Rose whispered mischievously. ‘Not made of granite after all?’ He collapsed into her arms and wept.

The second extraordinary thing happened an hour later: as the pair of them walked along the shore, getting some fresh air, Rose saw a jewel glinting amongst the rocks. She knelt down and picked it up, staring in amazement.

‘Jupitus Cole, something is clearly written in our stars . . .’ She held up the engagement ring that she had tossed out to sea after the disastrous wedding. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

They were married a week later, on the lawn at the base of the Mount, on a summer’s afternoon every bit as beautiful as the previous wedding day. When it came to the moment for the rings to be exchanged, the whole party held their breath, but the ceremony passed without a hitch.

As Jupitus and Rose were declared man and wife, a cheer went up, many of the guests jumping to their feet and clapping. Even Oceane Noire cried, ‘
Bravo!
’ in operatic tones. (She had broken every History Keeper rule by bringing a companion – a handsome oyster farmer who had nothing to do with the secret service – but everyone decided to turn a blind eye.)

‘
C’est merveilleux
,’ she sang, giving Charlie a smacker on the cheek that made Mr Drake fluff his feathers up in annoyance.

Charlie rolled his eyes at the parrot and whispered, ‘I may have created a monster . . .’

Afterwards there was a noisy feast and then, as the sun started to go down, lanterns were lit all around the island, the band struck up and the dancing began. The succession of quadrilles and waltzes grew rowdier as the heavens came alive with thousands of stars.

Jake and his friends took part in a Scottish reel: Topaz, Charlie – who was still hobbling, but determined to join in – Nathan, Yoyo, with Lydia Wunderbar to make up the six. (Despite being
as large as a tent
– as she put it – she was famous for being very light on her feet.) Fredrik Isaksen lounged nearby, regaling a group of adoring ladies with tales of his adventures. Signor Gondolfino, still clutching Olive, looked on benevolently as the dancers whirled around, cheering with delight. Next to them stood Felson the mastiff, and Dora the elephant with Mr Drake perched on her forehead – friends together, watching the antics of these strange humans.

When the dance finished, Jake realized that he hadn’t seen Philip for ages. Unable to find him amongst the party, he glanced up at the Mount, searching the rectangles of light where windows had been thrown open. They were all empty – but at last he picked out a solitary figure on the battlements.

Philip waved back at him, so Jake went in and climbed the main staircase, past the portrait of Sejanus Poppoloe – restored after its accident – towards the ramparts. Philip turned, smiling, as Jake came to stand beside him. For a while they stared in silence at a far-off point where the stars met the ocean, listening to the revels below.

‘Everything all right?’ Jake said at last.

‘Never been happier,’ his brother replied. Jake knew that there must be more that he wasn’t saying: you couldn’t go through a ordeal like that and feel normal straight away. ‘So . . . Aunt Rose elected head of the History Keepers’ Secret Service! A landslide victory! There’ll be no going back to London now.’

‘Would you
like
to go back?’ Jake asked.

Philip frowned. ‘It never felt like home to me.’ He swept his hands around the twinkling Mount. ‘
This
is home.’

Jake was about to agree with him when a voice came from behind: ‘There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere.’ It was Miriam, carrying her shoes and limping, Alan at her side. Jake noticed that he had the book with the picture of the Egyptian pyramids on the front. ‘It’s getting out of hand down there,’ Miriam giggled. ‘In preparation for their honeymoon in Ottoman Turkey, Jupitus has put on hooped earrings and is doing a belly dance on the table.’

‘It’s the first time I’ve ever seen my sister blush,’ Alan chipped in.

‘What
is
that book?’ Jake asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

‘What –
this
book?’ Alan stammered as if surprised to find it in his hand. Husband and wife exchanged a glance.

‘Well, the fact of the matter is’ – Miriam used the tone she normally reserved for tricky customers in the bathroom shop – ‘we do have something to tell you, both of you, and now seems as good a time as any.’ She took a deep breath and clapped her hands together. ‘It’s about where you came from.’ She laughed nervously and turned to Alan for moral support.

‘What she’s trying to say is,’ he jumped in, ‘that you two thought you were born in Lewisham hospital. Well, you weren’t. You were born in the past . . . quite a long time ago.’

‘It doesn’t
change
anything . . .’ Miriam tried to make it sound like an everyday admission. ‘You’re still exactly the same boys. It’s no different from the twins over the road who came from Toronto.’

‘What do you mean, we were
born
in the past?’ Jake demanded. Philip was smiling, as if he had just solved a puzzle he had been working on for years.

‘We were living in Egypt at the time,’ Miriam went on. ‘In the time of Rameses the Second. We could travel anywhere in history back then: our
valours
were the best in the business. It really was the golden age of Egypt, wasn’t it, Alan?’

‘Oh yes, very lavish and upscale,’ he concurred.

‘Rameses the S-Second?’ Jake stammered.

‘We were stationed there, you see, running the Egyptian bureau, near the Valley of the Kings. I was pregnant with you, Philip, when we arrived . . .’

‘Forty degrees, it was – not the best conditions,’ Alan chipped in. ‘Anyway, to cut a long story short, we foiled an assassination attempt on the pharaoh himself, and his government were so grateful they made us royalty.’

‘We weren’t
royalty
,’ Miriam protested, though she beamed at the memory. ‘That makes it sound much swisher than it was.’

‘They made us governors of an entire province!’ Alan pointed out. ‘You had a throne of gold and turquoise and a thousand skivvies at your beck and call!’

‘Yes, that was quite nice,’ she conceded. ‘What a relief it was not to have to worry about cooking.’

Jake’s head was spinning. ‘What. Are. You. Talking. About?’ he asked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.