Gravenhunger (14 page)

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Authors: Richard; Harriet; Allen Goodwin

BOOK: Gravenhunger
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On the other side of the gulf, Rose was shouting to him … jabbing her finger at the darkening air … pointing behind him…

Phoenix glanced over his shoulder at the summit.

Cold fear flashed in his eyes.

High above him swirled a huge cloud of dust … and something seemed to be sucking it down towards the very centre of the mound.

A scythe of electric-white light slashed across the sky, illuminating Elvira as she dashed between the pine trees.

She’d been this way already, surely? Perhaps she should try going in the opposite direction…

Twisting round, she stumbled over a hidden tree root and went crashing to the forest floor.

She lay there for a moment, her cheek pressed against the slimy layer of mud and pine needles, and then she began to sob.

It was no good. She would have to go back and tell Mum Lorenzo was missing. The grounds were just too huge to cover on her own – and in any case, it had been over half an hour since she had last seen her brother. There was no knowing where he might have got to.

But what was she going to say? As far as her mother was concerned they’d both been in the house playing hide-
and-seek
.
If she told the truth now, Mum would be livid. It looked like she would have to tell another lie to cover up the ones she’d already told…

Elvira got to her feet and set off back towards the manor.

She had nearly reached the border with the garden when she stopped.

What if Mum came down to the river to look for Lorenzo and saw the tree-trunk bridge? What if she went over to the mound and discovered the two holes? There’d be trouble then, for sure…

There was nothing else for it. Before she did anything else she was going to have to go and fill in those holes.

Elvira hurried back the way she had come. A few minutes later she was crossing the river and pulling herself up the embankment, blasts of cold rain whipping her face.

She raced towards the mound and scrambled up its windswept side, then rushed over to the pit in the middle and knelt down beside it.

She would start with this one … and she would bury the trowel while she was at it. It wasn’t as if she was planning on using it again, was it? Right now she’d be glad if she never came back here in her life.

Crooking her arm around the pile of soil heaped at its edge, Elvira began to draw it into the hole.

And in amongst the falling earth a small bronze coin went spinning to the bottom … the same coin her brother had dropped only half an hour before.

Phoenix stood rooted to the spot.

It seemed there was nowhere to turn.

Above him twisted the vortex of descending dust and beneath him the gaping chasm stretched its
ever-widening
jaws.

He flinched as the remaining iron bolt seared through his jeans pocket into his thigh.

Cursing, he pulled it out.

What was happening to it? It had been warm before, but now it was burning hot – so hot he could hardly hold it.

Phoenix raised his arm, ready to hurl the bolt into the gulf below … and then he lowered it, frowning.

From across the void Rose was screaming at him to lie down flat, to cling to the mound for all he was worth, but he took no notice.

What was it she had said to him at the top just now? Something about putting his mother’s secret behind him? About putting it back where it belonged? Yes, that was it.
It’s time to put the past back where it belongs
.

How could he have been so blind? He’d been holding on to the one thing he had needed all this time…

He turned to face the summit, brandishing the iron bolt above his head.

“So this is what you want, is it?” he yelled. “This is what you’ve been waiting for?”

He began to heave himself up the slope, his fingers curled around the bolt.

At the crest he paused.

The pit he had dug in the centre had become a churning mass, sucking everything in its path towards it: dust and stones, twigs and leaves. Now and then there was a flash of gold amongst the spinning debris … a gleam of silver … a sparkle of precious stone.

Phoenix gazed open-mouthed over the rest of the mound.

The whole surface was peppered with tiny hollows, no longer just round the edge but right across the top. The tremor seemed to have deepened them too … and nestled at the base of each one was a glowing iron bolt.

The earth gave another violent shudder and Phoenix was buffeted sideways.

“OK!” he shouted. “I know what I’ve got to do, all right? I know what I’ve got to find!”

He waited for the tremor to subside, then started to drag himself around the mound on all fours, the bolt burning in his hand.

And not far off, half hidden by the swirling dust, the silhouette darted to and fro over the luminous skeleton of the great boat.

Elvira huddled beneath the covers of her bed, her face wet with tears.

The police were still outside, along with some of the villagers who had come up to help. One or two of them had gone back for torches and searchlights and now they were scouring the garden yet again, calling to each other through the rainy darkness.

One man, whose job it had been to search beyond the river, had guessed she wasn’t telling the truth, she just knew it. She had hung around at the bottom of the garden waiting for him to come back, dreading what he might have to say – and when at last he had emerged from the forest he had given her such a knowing look, as if he knew quite well that she had been over on the mound.

She hadn’t wavered from her story, though. Lorenzo had grown tired of playing with his soldiers, she had said. She had agreed to play his favourite game of hide-and-seek, but when it had been his turn to hide, she hadn’t been able to find him anywhere.

Elvira swallowed, remembering what had really happened … the frantic searching of the house and grounds …the race against time to fill in the two holes…the sprint back to the manor … the heart-stopping journey upstairs to wash and change into clean clothes … the burying of the dirty ones at the bottom of the laundry basket in her room
… and all the time, the only thing she could think of was Lorenzo. How she should never have allowed her brother to cross the river in the first place. How she shouldn’t have let him out of her sight – not even for a second. How, if anything truly dreadful had happened to him, she would never forgive herself…

It was then that she had spotted the iron bolt sitting on top of her chest of drawers. If anyone saw it, there would be questions. And besides, she never wanted to see it again. It was a reminder of just how stupid and selfish she had been.

She had snatched it up and pushed it under a loose floorboard beside the window, noticing neither its faint glow nor its warmth against the tingling of her freshly-scrubbed hands – and then she had raced downstairs to find her mother.

Mum had been pretty calm at first. She’d said Lorenzo was probably just playing a joke on them. But it wasn’t long before she had started to panic too and Dad had been called back from work.

After that everything had happened very fast: the police had been summoned and a huge search party mounted. All day the house and its surroundings had hummed with activity.

Now though, things had quietened down. Most of the villagers had gone home, and whilst a few stragglers remained outside with the police, it was obvious from the sound of their voices that they no longer held out much hope.

Elvira burrowed further inside the bed.

If only she had been honest from the start, then maybe they might have had more chance of finding him … if only she had told the truth when it had most mattered.

She reached up under her pillow and closed her fingers around the silver angel. If only … if only…

There was no point wondering at what might have been – her little brother was gone.

And it was every bit her fault.

The tremors were getting closer and closer together.

He had twenty seconds at most … twenty seconds to check inside as many hollows as possible before he would be forced to press himself to the ground, tensing his muscles against the juddering earth.

But how many more hollows were there?

Hundreds and hundreds of them … too many to count … yet he was going to have to look in every one.

Phoenix made to peer into the next hollow, his fingers clenched around the iron bolt, then cried out as another tremor, much stronger than anything that had come before, ripped through the earth, flinging him forward.

The next moment he was scrabbling against the blistering soil.

Something seemed to be pulling him towards the centre of the mound – an invisible force dragging him onward.

From all around he could hear the far-off clamour of voices mingling with the rhythmic beating of drums, and ahead of him the column of light had appeared once more, its milky rays illuminating the mouth of the ravenous pit.

Phoenix opened his mouth and screamed.

He knew how it would be down there: the heat … the lack of air … the impossible blackness. He had felt it all before. But now there was something worse than that – something far, far worse: the king himself. Flailing out with his arms, he plunged the iron bolt into the earth.

At once he jolted to a halt.

He lay there, just inches from the rim of the pit, clinging to the bolt.

A terrible gleaming rose from within the hole … and he glanced down to see the great bronze helmet with its face-mask glaring up at him through the pillar of light.

Come on in, boy. Come and see the treasure for yourself.

Phoenix stared back into the empty eyes, his heart slamming against his chest.

Come on in. You know it’s what you want

For a moment it seemed that the eyes would suck
him in … that he was powerless to resist their magnetic pull…

“No!” he cried. “It’s not what I want at all! Not any more!” He tore his gaze away. “You took Lorenzo, didn’t you? You lured him into the river. Well, you’re not having me too!”

He tightened his grip around the bolt.

If he could just use it to get back to the edge … to where he would be safe from the pull of the pit…

He wriggled back until he was at full stretch, then in one swift movement pulled out the bolt and rammed it into the earth in front of his chest.

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