finger and arm subsided, and his anger gave way to guilt. Yet despite his change of heart, his spike in powers had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the gathering, particularly Lucy.
“Do we know anything about what the villains want?” said Benissimo.
“Nothing,” said Madame Oublier. “But zere is great cause for concern. You are aware we have lost contact with Gearnish?”
“Yes.”
“What you may not know is zat this happened at ze same time zat the major gold reserves went missing. Gearnish is of great tactical importance. Its factories are ze very heart of the Hidden’s industry, capable of building anything and in any number. Ze minutians have always sided with us, always. I fear ze city has come under ze control of darker forces, as do our allies. As we speak, ze Hidden are talking of war. You of all people, Bene, know the seriousness of zis – you fought with my grandmother against ze demons, did you not?”
For a brief moment Ned was reminded of the enigma that was Benissimo’s age.
“Were it not for St Albertsburg’s lancers and the machines of Gearnish we would surely have lost, Madame.”
“Precisely why the Iron City’s lack of communication has us all so worried.”
“So … a load of gold has gone missing. Lots of people have been kidnapped, including my parents. And you’ve lost the city where most of your weapons are made. Did I miss anything?” said Ned.
“Non.”
“But … what does it all mean?”
“Nothing good,” said Madame Oublier. “Luckily, we are not alone in our search for answers. London’s own Scotland Yard have been tracking ze thief’s movements and are also aware of ze liquid, and how it links both robberies and abductions. ‘Project Mercury’ is a surveillance operation zey are running tomorrow night at ze British Museum, where zey apparently believe ze next break-in will take place. How zey have this information before it has come to us I don’t know, and it is frankly embarrassing, but it is our one and only lead.”
Benissimo, Ned noticed, had visibly stiffened. “Did you say the British Museum?” he asked.
“Oui.”
“Vault X, Madame?”
“I fear so. George, I hear it told zat you are something of an encyclopaedia on ze Hidden and its treasures. Why don’t you tell ze children what you know about Vault X?”
“Yes, Madame, and thank you,” began the ape, who clearly enjoyed being referred to as an encyclopaedia on anything. “Society at large believes that there are seven wonders of the ancient world. Were they to travel beyond the Veil, they would know that there are in fact eleven, and that the remaining four are still intact. The British Museum concerns itself with wonders of every kind, a staggering construction of some nine hundred and ninety thousand square feet, its marbled corridors—”
“Ze Vault, monkey.”
“Ahem, indeed. Of its staggering thirteen million objects, there are some that originate from the Hidden side of the Veil. This is not known even by the people who procured them, though they do know that these objects are peculiar, and they treat them as such. They abstain from any categorisation, or even rudimentary analysis by the museum’s learned custodians. Instead, they lock them away. On a secret floor of the building’s never-ending underground storage, in vault ‘X’. It was decided that the items in question would pose less of an academic problem if nobody knew they existed.”
“But ze Twelve are not ‘nobody’,” cut in Oublier again. “We have always monitored ze museum. Some of its artefacts are extremely powerful and I have no doubt zat zis mercurial thief is after one or more of its treasures.”
“Let us deal with it, the museum is not far from here,” offered Benissimo.
“I am not here to ask or to allow, Bene, I am here to order. The sum of gold taken could build a hundred armies with which to wage war, yet combined with such ‘particular’ kidnappings I fear a more obscure purpose.”
“Indeed,” said Bene.
“So,” said Madame Oublier. “Your mission is simple. Find zis thief, find out who he is working for and report only to me. Until I know what is happening, I do not know who is on our side, or who has been compromised.”
“Well,” began Bene. “You can trust us to—”
“Yes, yes,” Madame Oublier said with a dismissive wave. “I know. But I trust nothing to chance. I shall have my men unload an item for you before we leave. To watch over Ned. For … protection.”
“What is it?”
“Oh,” she said. “A little extra insurance.”
With that, she stood and swept out of the tent.
Though the great ape had lost much of his beloved library to a fire, the comforting wall-shake of his snore was at least familiar. Less so were the howls of anguish and what sounded like sobbing, coming from a trailer nearby. George’s trailer was always placed next to the Darklings and their cages. More as a deterrent for any would-be escapees than anything else. Jonny Magik’s trailer was right beside it, in a similarly distant plot to the rest of the troupe, and Ned was starting to see – or at least hear – why. Whatever the man was suffering from, it didn’t sound like indigestion, and his howling formed a constant and unpleasant serenade.
What with that, the snoring, the loss of his parents, and his fear of the voice that awaited him in his nightmares, Ned wasn’t hopeful of getting much sleep at all.
At least he was back at the circus. George had endearingly and exhaustingly kept him company after their meeting with Madame Oublier. He’d brought him food, offered to bend bars for his entertainment and even tried to impress him with banana-induced flatulence.
Ned opened up his backpack, lifted out the carefully wrapped Christmas presents he’d taken from his home and placed them under his bunk.
To Ned they were more than presents, they were a doorway to his mum and dad, a promise – a false one perhaps – of a normal life. A life where the ones you loved weren’t taken from you, where Christmas was still Christmas no matter who you were.
Now, in a single day, he’d lost his parents and said goodbye to two of his closest friends. It was as if his entire life on the josser side of the Veil had been erased and all because of the thief at his letterbox.
Ned sighed, and lay down on the bunk. He closed his eyes for a moment.
His mum had told him that in their long years of separation, the one thing that had consoled her was the sky at night. Hidden away at the convent of St Clotilde’s, she had watched it every evening, knowing that Ned and his dad were under the very same sky and that, even unwittingly, they would from time to time look at the stars with her.
Ned smiled. He wondered if the stars were out tonight. He could go and see but it was warm and comfortable on the bunk. Maybe I’ll try tomorrow, he thought.
It was a nice thought, a lulling thought, and Ned felt his mind begin to drift …
…