The Liberators (11 page)

‘I think they're moving already,' said Ivo. ‘Julius is planning a party at the National Gallery.'

Hunter raised her head and sniffed, like a dog. ‘That sounds like them,' she said. ‘Right,' she continued, sweeping to her feet, knocking her teacup over and ignoring the splash, ‘I must go. I must see what we can do. We will meet again. Now, out, you lot. Your presence here is dangerous. They might be coming any minute. We don't want them to know you have contacted me.'

‘Wait – how do we find you?'

‘Hold the Koptor and think of me,' she said. ‘It operates at the most basic, atomic level of matter. If you hold it and think of me, very hard, quantum particles in it will be activated and influence those in me. And I will be transported to wherever you are, as quick as a shaft from the bow of Apollo himself.'

It was at that moment that the room started to shake. It felt as if something very strong was battering at the door.

‘Oh my godfathers,' said Alice. ‘Quick, out the back, all of you.'

They rushed into the passageway and saw the door buckling on its hinges. ‘Come on! Through here!' she hissed. They went through a back room and Alice fiddled with the lock, and then flung the door open. ‘Climb over the wall, you'll be in the next road down. Run as fast as you can, jump on a bus, any bus, just run.'

She slammed the back door in their faces and pulled down the blind. Ivo half turned to go back, but Felix pulled at his shoulder. Miranda had already run to the back of the garden and was scrambling over the low wall. Felix took it at one leap, and Ivo, looking back over his shoulder, dragged himself over it, and the three of them sprinted down the alley.

They came out on to the Chamberlayne Road and saw a bus stop ahead.

‘Is there anyone behind us?'

‘Don't know. Don't look. Just run!'

A bus was approaching, and they dodged across the traffic, avoiding cars; they just made it as the bus pulled up.

Panting, they flung themselves into the back seats. Ivo turned and gazed out of the back window – there didn't seem to be anybody after them.

‘I think we're all right,' he said.

‘Sure,' said Felix. ‘All right. That's just the way I'd put it. All right.'

‘I hope Hunter's OK. Do you think we should go back there?'

‘I think she can probably cope,' said Miranda. ‘There's more to her than you might realise.'

‘But she looked so . . . so
rubbish
,' said Ivo. ‘She didn't look like she could hold off a rabbit, let alone whatever it was that was after her. I mean, even that trick with the knife –'

‘After her? Or were they after us? Don't you think it's odd that she would be attacked when we were there?' said Felix.

‘I don't know,' answered Ivo. ‘Let's just hope they don't find us.' Ivo breathed on the window and drew symbols in the mist. Felix glared down at the ground, his ankles crossed over each other, and Miranda pretended to text. The bus continued its way down the gloomy streets and the three of them huddled in silence.

Felix was fiddling with a piece of paper in his pocket, and eventually he sighed and brought it out. ‘Look,' he said. ‘I found this.' He spread it out on his knees. Miranda and Ivo crowded round him. It was a printout, old and faint, of a plan.

‘It's a map,' he said. ‘Of the underground tunnels.'

Miranda kissed him.

‘You know, old brother of mine, sometimes you really do come up with the goods.'

Felix brushed her off. ‘Look,' he said. ‘Here. There seems to be a large chamber in Marylebone – that's where we first saw Perkins going. And then another one in Mayfair, here.' He pointed to a large square, with two tunnels branching off it, one going west, which came out in Hyde Park, and one going east, which ended in the back streets of Soho. There were several smaller rooms off the eastern tunnel. There were three or four clusters of chambers, including one under the National Gallery. There was an exit in Mayfair too.

‘It's on South Audley Street,' said Ivo. ‘It must go up into Julius's house.'

He took the map and pored over it until they got off the bus.

When they reached Charmsford Square, Miranda said, ‘We've got two hours with Perky now. It's five o'clock.'

‘And then what?' said Ivo. ‘We have to move quickly . . . and Perkins is our only lead.'

Felix, looking serious, said, ‘I think we should follow him again. All of us. See where he takes us. We'll find out how deeply he's involved.'

.

Chapter Ten

The two hours stomped by, punctuated by Perkins marching smartly up and down the dining room where Felix and Miranda had their lessons. When, eventually, he looked at his watch and said, ‘Hand them in, please,' the siblings did so with the barest acknowledgement. Outside, the blackness of evening showed in the squares of the windows. Electric light reflected back from Perkins' spectacles.

‘All the fight gone out of you?' said Perkins. ‘Good. Then we're getting somewhere.' He hitched up his unpleasant trousers, rose, and, nodding curtly, left the room.

They hung back in the doorway of the dining room and watched him go to the front door. He opened it, said loudly, ‘Goodbye,' and slammed it shut. Exchanging a glance with Miranda, Felix put a bony finger to his lips, and they crept after him, their hearts beating quickly and their stomachs tightening. They slipped out on to the street and in the glow of a lamp post saw him turn the corner ahead of them. Ivo emerged from behind a large dustbin where he'd been hiding and joined them in silence.

They followed Perkins all the way down Baker Street, keeping muffled up in their scarves and hats in case he turned around, but he was resolute, striding ahead. At the end of Baker Street he turned right and walked straight across Oxford Street; they nearly lost him as four buses passed at the same time, but they glimpsed him nip down a side street and enter the Mayfair streets. They had trouble keeping up with him – there were a lot of people around.

‘This is near where Julius lives,' Ivo whispered. They were in the warren of streets around Grosvenor Square.

About a hundred feet behind Perkins, they saw him vault straight over some railings into a garden square, without looking either right or left. They paused.

‘Guys,' said Miranda, ‘I don't like this. Let's go home.'

‘No,' said Ivo, his face tight and drawn; he felt as if he had a hard case around him like a shell spiralling outwards. ‘We have to do this. Come on.' He sprinted across the road and leaped over the railings in one bound.

Felix shrugged and loped behind, and Miranda, shaking her head, went too. They joined Ivo on the other side. Ivo pointed. Perkins was striding towards the centre of the garden. There was a large statue of what looked from a distance like a tiger, baring its teeth, overshadowed by a tall tree spreading its branches out.

Perkins disappeared behind the statue, and then did not come out again. Ivo pressed on, the two siblings trailing behind him. Ivo's mind had become colder, harder. He came up to the plinth on which the statue loomed. It was clean, and new, an inscription bearing a date not two years ago: ‘
This statue was erected by the generosity of Julius Luther-Ross
'.

A sliver entered Ivo's heart. He went round the corner of the statue. Felix was at his elbow now, Miranda a little behind.

‘I like the statue,' Felix said, under his breath. ‘Cool tiger.'

The back of the plinth presented a blank face to them. Ivo passed his hand in a businesslike manner over it, and then his face contracted into creases of concentration. Aha, he thought. He traced his finger around until he found what he was looking for – a small crack which indicated the presence of an entrance.

‘Can we go now?' asked Miranda.

Ivo ignored her. He was taken up with the force of his mission. He felt the Koptor in his pocket and took it out.

Let's see if you do what you say you do, thought Ivo, and held it tightly. He inched around it for a button or a groove or something, but found nothing. Undeterred, he continued to squeeze it, thinking hard all the time. We have to stop them, he thought. He focused on thoughts of order, peace and serenity, remembering what Hunter had said about Apollo, all the time willing the blade to come out. And then, almost as if it had been there all the time, it was there, shining and sharp and deadly. Ivo stepped forward briskly and put the blade against the crack and moved it downwards: it passed through it as easily as if it were made of nothing more substantial than cloud. The stone panel shifted slightly forwards.

I did it, thought Ivo. I made it open. My own will caused it. Grimly and suddenly aware of the powers and possibilities that this entailed, he pushed against the side of the plinth. He felt it give, and as slowly as possible, he heaved it aside, trying not to make any noise, then entered the space. The others went after him, Felix closing the panel behind them.

The entrance opened into a corridor that headed downwards. Stealthily, they felt their way down the passageway through the darkness; this time there was no carefree joking around. Soon a light appeared in front of them, and they saw that they had come to the end of the tunnel, where it opened out into a large room. Felix held out his hand, halting his sister and Ivo; they crouched in the entrance way, hidden by the shadows, and edged as far forward as they dared.

The room was enormous, far larger than the one they had been in before in Marylebone. There were two black statues of panthers on either side of the room, and the walls were hung with tapestries that showed hunting scenes. Fine carpets covered the floor. The atmosphere was dry. In the hall was a thin, languid young man with very long blond hair and a finely chiselled face; his features were so symmetrical as to be almost unreal, and he had a wispy, ethereal face that was devoid of any expression, as if he were posing for a photograph in a fashion magazine. It was Strawbones, and he was slouching in a velvet chair.

Perkins was standing as if to attention in front of him.

‘Well, Perkins?' said Strawbones. ‘What news?'

‘I hate my pupils,' was Perkins' response, enunciating every word with suppressed rage. Miranda squeezed Felix's hand.

‘I've said before, Perkins, that you should not question me. It is a means to an end, that is all. Their parents are very useful. They know the right people. They're bringing a table to the National Gallery.'

Lydia's party, thought Ivo.

Perkins threw himself on to the ground, so that he was kneeling, with his head bent before Strawbones. Ivo thought for one horrible moment that Strawbones was going to tear Perkins' head off. But instead he stretched, and yawned, and said, ‘We are all set for Liberation.' Something scuttled across the floor, and the three friends watched a large rat skitter away. A gust of air howled through the hall; Felix shivered next to Miranda, who pulled her jacket closer around her. Ivo ignored it.

Strawbones raised himself from the chair, standing up straight. A change came over his face – his eyes appeared to be turning completely green, and when he spoke his voice was stronger. ‘Yes . . . we, Julius and Strawbones Luther-Ross, the Eleutheroi, the legends, the Liberators, will rise to power. Long have we waited in the dark places, long have we hidden ourselves from the light of the world, this corrupt, filthy,
heaving
world of barbarians. We will make them see what it is to be untrammelled by restraints, to act on every impulse, every desire, without fear, without consequence.'

The friends watched Strawbones lift his arms out as if he were crucified, or flying, and Perkins remained kneeling, mumbling something, some kind of chant. His chant rose higher and he threw his head up and Strawbones was lit by strange fire. Then Perkins' voice dropped, and Strawbones, relaxing, sat back in his chair. Perkins got quietly to his feet.

‘There is no obstacle,' said Strawbones gently, and then he said, even more quietly, ‘except the Koptor. Did you find the Koptor?'

Miranda gently nudged her brother. Ivo tensed, its coldness in his hand. They are so close to it, he thought, and they don't know. This made him feel strong, and powerful.

Perkins muttered inaudibly.

‘I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. I asked you if you had found the Koptor. Did you?'

‘No.' Perkins said no more.

‘Well, that is
depressing
. Honestly, Perkins. We charge you with one easy little task like finding the Koptor and you can't perform it. What will we do with you?'

There was a pause. Felix, Miranda and Ivo held their breath, sure that any sound they made would be picked up.

‘Find it,' barked Strawbones, and suddenly his voice was old, and full of blackness, and then he began to laugh. He picked up a long walking stick that had lain by his side, and banged it three times on the ground. The knocks echoed, and as if in immediate answer a tapestry was flung off one of the walls to reveal a doorway, out of which poured a riot of people. Felix, Miranda and Ivo drew further back into the shadows, watching the throng flowing in, rushing like a stream, gurgling and foaming. There were thirty or forty of them, and Ivo could see that they ranged in age from the teenage to the elderly. Some were clapping cymbals together, some were pounding sticks on the floor, some were shouting. They surged around the chair where Strawbones was reclining, and formed an unruly circle, baying and hooting like animals. Strawbones stood up suddenly, quick as a salmon leaping. He basked in the Acolytes' attention, and as Ivo watched him he felt Strawbones's charisma boil outwards from him like a stellar force.

Don't give in to it, he thought. He hoped Miranda and Felix would be able to resist too. He turned to look at them, and saw the swift spark of interest in Felix's eyes. Perturbed, but unable to do anything about it, he turned his gaze back to Strawbones.

‘Do we have another recruit?' shouted Strawbones above the din.

There was raucous laughter; a murmuring of voices, and then one came out louder than the rest: ‘Yes, O Liberator, we do.'

‘Good. Where is he? Or she?' Strawbones's voice was cold, thought Ivo, but somehow deeply attractive: it made you want to please him.

‘Here!' said a woman's voice, strong and clear. Somebody stepped into Ivo's line of vision, and he saw that she was about forty, very well dressed, in a business suit, with hair impeccably arranged, and diamonds shining in her ears.

‘Ah, excellent!' said Strawbones. ‘Now what is your name?'

‘Jennifer Brook,' said the woman brightly.

‘And are you committed to our cause?'

There was no pause, indeed his words were barely finished as she shouted, ‘Yes!'

‘She has performed the test?' asked the Liberator. ‘Show me the proof!'

Jennifer Brook opened her handbag and rummaged in it, and then pulled out something which looked to Ivo from a distance like a long, thick piece of string. Except that it wasn't. Ivo realised what it was just before Jennifer said, ‘The tail of a cat! Slaughtered for you, O Liberator!'

She flung it into the air and Strawbones caught it, and held it high above his head. Every mouth in the room was open, revealing crimson, cavernous throats and pinkish, worm-like tongues hollering.

Juniper, thought Ivo. She killed Juniper.

‘Then we shall begin. Acolytes!' Strawbones's voice now was full of richness, of enticing undertones. There was a roar from the rabble. Felix and Miranda, Ivo noticed, had exchanged a glance at the mention of Jennifer Brook. Taking advantage of the noise, Felix leaned into Ivo's ear, and whispered, ‘She knows our mother!'

They watched as the herd of people danced round in a circle with Jennifer Brook in the centre of it.

Then a voice cried out, ‘Eeyoh! Eeyoh!' It was filled with elation, with joy, with the vibrant, bursting, chaotic sensation of life. It was intoxicating, and it promised freedom. Ivo felt as if he were part of the world itself, as if he could feel things growing, and he felt as if he understood everything about the universe. But Ivo recognised it – he felt, on the edges of perception, what he'd felt on the underground. Glancing at Miranda and Felix, he saw their mouths trembling, laughter threatening to spill out. Controlling himself fiercely, he clamped his hands over their mouths and stuffed a huge amount of his jumper into his own, biting down like an animal.

‘Eeyoh! Eeyoh!' came the cry again, and the Acolytes danced more wildly.

Ivo could see Jennifer Brook standing in the middle of the circle, and he saw the bliss in her eyes. She undid her hair, which tumbled around her shoulders, and tore off her shoes, flinging them out, not caring where they landed.

The Acolytes began to chant: ‘O Eleutheros. O Liberator. Swallow-Feather, Nightfall, Abandoner. Clash of Cymbal, Prince of Deer, Stone Eater.' Jennifer Brook joined in, screaming over the top of them: ‘I will join! I will join! Free me, O Liberator, free me, Prince of Deer!' Round and round the Acolytes danced, faster and faster and faster, and Ivo was sorely tempted to run out and join them. But he held on to Miranda and Felix, feeling them strain.

‘I am Eleutheros!' proclaimed Strawbones. ‘I am freedom!'

The crowd pounded the floor with their feet. A haze of dust flew up from the carpets.

‘I am Liberator!' he shouted. ‘I free you from your selves!' Again they beat the floor, twirling round and round, like dervishes whirling.

‘I am the swallow's feather! I am the bringer of night!'

Incessant, his followers spun in a vortex around him.

‘I make you abandoned! I am the clash of cymbal! Swift as deer, destroyer of stone! I am the Liberator!' His voice rocketed around the hall.