The Set Up (15 page)

I glanced at Dylan. ‘Give me a minute.’

She nodded. I took Ketty’s arm and led her a little way down the corridor. I stopped and looked at her. All the softness in her eyes had gone. Her lips were pressed firmly together.

What on earth was I going to say to her? I thought back to what I’d decided when I’d realised flashing money about and showing off my telekinetic skills didn’t impress her. The truth hadn’t gone down particularly well when I’d told her about the Medusa gene, but it had to be the best option now.

‘I came here for two reasons,’ I said. ‘One: I didn’t want to leave things like I did with you. And two: I have to find something in this house and Dylan is helping me. That’s the truth.’

Ketty looked over her shoulder. I followed her gaze to where Dylan was leaning against the wall, twisting her long red hair round her hand. The knots in my stomach tightened as I saw her through Ketty’s eyes – the almond eyes, the perfectly oval face and those long, slim legs that seemed to go all the way up to her elbows.

Ketty crossed her arms. ‘And what,
exactly
, is that girl helping you do?’

I stared at her . . . was she
jealous
?

Ketty narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s something to do with that Medusa gene, isn’t it? She mentioned it earlier.’

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘Isn’t that nice, you two having a lovely psychic gene in common?’ she hissed. ‘I’m going to get Fergus.’

‘No.’ I grabbed her arm. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘Oh, I think I do.’ Ketty tore her arm away from me. ‘When Fergus told me about Jack Linden . . . how he couldn’t be trusted . . . I didn’t believe you’d be so stupid as to let him con you.’ She glanced at Dylan, still waiting up the corridor. ‘Now I see why you’ve gone along with everything he asked you to do.’

‘No.’ I followed Ketty’s gaze towards Dylan, who was staring down at the carpet, her loose hair tumbling round her face. ‘It’s not like that—’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Ketty whispered angrily. ‘And I’m going to get Fergus. Wait here.’

She pelted away round the corner. I stared after her, my head spinning.

‘Girlfriend trouble?’ Dylan said, drily. ‘Where’s she going?’

‘To get Fergus,’ I said.

What the hell just happened?

‘What?’ Dylan’s eyes widened. She pushed herself off the wall. ‘Why didn’t you stop her?’ She ran to the corner.

I followed. But Ketty had already vanished down a maze of corridors.

‘There’s no point going after her,’ I said. ‘She knows the house and we don’t.’ My mind was working overtime, trying to make sense of Ketty’s behaviour. She
had
to be jealous . . . that was the only explanation for the way she’d changed when Dylan had shown up.

‘Nico.’ Dylan was shaking my arm. ‘Come on, we have to move fast. She could be back here with Fergus in a few minutes. What did that email you found say exactly?’

I forced my mind back to the message. ‘It was something like: “
locked up – safe in our library at home. You know the number if you need it
.”’

‘So where’s the library going to be?’

I shrugged. I didn’t care about that now. I just wanted to sort things out with Ketty.

‘I ran past a room that had a bunch of books in it on my way in,’ Dylan said. ‘Let’s try that.’

I hesitated. Ketty could be anywhere in the house by now.
And
she was fetching Fergus. Dylan was right – we had to find the information on Viper before Fergus found us. I could go back for Ketty afterwards.

We sped off down the corridor.

‘How did you get into the house?’ I hissed as we ran.

‘There was a dog door downstairs,’ Dylan said. ‘I saw it after I fell and came in through it.’

‘A dog door? You mean like a pet flap?’ I said. ‘I haven’t heard any dogs barking – did you see any on your way up?’

‘No. I think it’s old,’ Dylan hissed. ‘My dad had dogs when he was a kid – I’ve seen pictures.’

We reached another staircase and scuttled down to the ground floor. As we reached a tiled passageway, I decided what to do about Ketty. Once we had the Viper information, I was definitely going to find her again and talk to her.

If she was jealous of Dylan then that meant she liked me.

At least I hoped it did.

‘The library’s this way.’ Dylan pointed to a door opposite that led into a room lined floor to ceiling with books. ‘Come on.’

As we ran into the room, Fergus’s roar sounded in the distance.

‘NICO! WHERE ARE YOU?’

We ran through the library. The curtains were drawn and moonlight flooded in, brightening the whole room. Apart from a single, shabby couch, all I could see were rows and rows of bookshelves.

‘There’s nothing—’ Dylan began.

‘Wait.’ I pointed to a winding staircase in the darkest corner of the room. We raced over. I peered up the stairs. They disappeared into darkness. ‘Up here.’ I led Dylan up the narrow stairs. Our feet echoed softly on the iron steps.

‘NICO!’ At least Fergus’s muffled shout sounded further away. Hopefully he was going in the wrong direction. It would take ages to search the whole house properly. After all, he had no idea I was looking for information on Viper.

As we climbed, my mind ran over how Ketty had looked when she’d first seen me. That soft look in her eyes . . . the way she’d smiled. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was.

She likes me back.

I grinned to myself, as we climbed on. It got darker for a minute, then lighter again. At last the stairs opened out into another room. This was also a library, but much older and dustier than the one downstairs. And the books were different too – children’s encyclopaedias and large, colourful picture books were crammed into three wooden bookcases lined along the far wall. There was a window to the left and an old-fashioned fireplace in the corner with two small, faded armchairs in front.

I remembered William’s email: . . .
our library at home
. . .

Our library
meant his and Fergus’s library – a children’s library.

‘We’re in the right place,’ I said.

‘Good.’ Dylan had crossed the room and was gazing up at the large photograph that hung above the fireplace, lit up by the moonlight from outside. It showed a middle-aged man and woman standing proudly in front of a lake. Beside them were two boys. One was a sullen teenager with a shock of red hair. He looked like he’d been forced into the picture. Beside him stood two large dogs and a younger boy – maybe eight or nine years old. He was holding a bicycle and grinning.

‘Who are they?’ I asked, looking round the room for any sign of a locked cupboard.

Dylan clasped her hands together. ‘My grandparents and . . . and my dad when he was young.’ She pointed to the red-haired teenager, her voice thick with repressed emotion. ‘I’ve never seen a picture of him when he was my age before.’

‘Who’s the kid with the bike?’ I said.

‘That must be Fergus.’ Dylan turned away. ‘Come on, we’re wasting time.’

I stared at the boy for a second. Had Fergus really ever been that young? Another yell shook me out of my thoughts. It was still muffled, but then we were up a long flight of stairs. Fergus was probably closer than he sounded.

I glanced round the room. A child’s desk stood to the right of the bookcases. Two slim, marble candlesticks were the only items on top of the desk. There was no cupboard in the room. Nowhere to lock anything away at all.

‘Maybe there’s a closet behind those.’ Dylan looked at the bookcases.

‘Let’s check behind the desk first.’ I dragged it away from the wall.

‘Look,’ Dylan gasped.

A steel safe was set into the base of the wall behind the desk. A round knob surrounded by numbers was on the safe door.

The words from William Fox’s email flashed into my head.

Locked up – safe in our library at home. You know the number if you need it.

He hadn’t meant locked up
and
safe. He’d meant locked up
in
the safe. And the number he’d said Fergus would know must be the combination.

‘This is it . . .’ My heart skipped a beat.

‘NICO!’ Fergus was definitely closer now. ‘COME HERE. NOW!’

Dylan and I exchanged glances.

‘We haven’t got time to mess around trying to open it,’ Dylan said.

‘I know.’ I squatted down and examined the safe. It was small – about the size of a shoe locker at school – but set firmly into the plaster. It looked impregnable.

‘We’re going to have to break into it,’ I said.

‘How?’ Dylan twisted her hair round her hand, frowning.

I looked round the room. There was absolutely nothing we could use to try and prise the safe door open. Not that I could see anything short of a customised crowbar and a lot of muscle working. And the room was all bookcases and dust.

Dust. Everything was so old. I reached over and scraped at the wall beside the safe. The plaster crumbled under my fingers. I tapped next to the small dent I’d made. The sound was light. Hollow.

‘We don’t break into the safe,’ I said. ‘We take the whole thing with us.’

‘What?’

I grabbed one of the marble candlesticks off the desk, bent down and drove it into the wall beside the safe. More plaster crumbled away.

I thumped the candlestick harder against the hole.
Yes.
I was through. The plaster was only a centimetre or so thick.

‘If we break through the wall all round the safe,’ I explained quickly, ‘we’ll be able to pull it out and take it with us.’

Dylan nodded. She picked up the second candlestick and heaved it against the wall on the other side of the safe.

Thump. Thud.

We worked fast. In less than a minute the wall above and beside the safe was gone.

I reached down and tugged at the safe. It was incredibly heavy . . . impossible to lift, let alone carry.

‘Jesus, what’s this made of?’ I said.

Dylan tried to help, but even with her holding the safe as well, we couldn’t budge it a centimetre.

‘I’ll have to teleport it,’ I said.

Dylan stood back while I focused on my breath. It was fast and jagged.
No good
. Panic rose inside me. I’d never lifted anything this heavy
.
Except . . . there was that bench in the school grounds. I’d moved that without even trying. Yes, this wasn’t about how heavy the object was. It was about me . . . about how deeply I focused.

I breathed out again, slowly.

‘NICO!’ Fergus’s shout was definitely closer now.

‘Hurry,’ Dylan hissed.

‘Bugging me doesn’t help,’ I snapped, closing my eyes.

Focus. Breathe. Move.

I opened my eyes and positioned my hands on either side of the safe. I could sense Dylan hopping from foot to foot beside me but – unlike when Ketty was nearby – it wasn’t so difficult to shut out the distraction.

Move.

The safe floated up and towards me.

Yes.

I drew it closer. It was just out of the hole when I felt it resist. I frowned, mentally tugging at it harder. But it was stuck.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I don’t think it’s me,’ I said.

Dylan darted round behind the safe. She knelt down and peered into the hole in the wall the safe had just come out of.

‘Shit,’ she said. ‘It’s attached to something with two wires.’ She peered more closely. ‘The wires go into some kind of panel.’

For a second I hesitated. ‘Pull them out,’ I said.

‘But . . .’

‘It’s the only way.’

‘Okay.’ Dylan grasped a wire in each hand and yanked, hard.

I felt the safe move freely again – but, in the same instant, an alarm screeched into the air. Unbelievably loud.

‘No!’ Dylan leaped to her feet

I stood too, the safe still floating just above my hands, the two red wires trailing from it. ‘Run!’

We raced back to the stairs. Down. Round and round, down the spiral staircase. My entire focus was on the safe in the air in front of me, but in the back of my mind I knew Fergus must be able to hear that alarm. He would know where it came from. He would be running here, too.

We reached the ground floor. Footsteps running towards us. No way back through that dog flap door.

We raced in the other direction.
There.
A window leading out to the front.

‘Through here.’ I hurled the safe through the glass. With a crash it landed outside. Dylan grabbed at the jagged shards of glass left in the frame, yanking them out with her bare hands.

‘Stop,’ I cried, horrified.

‘Medusa gene,’ she hissed, pulling out another sharp pane. ‘Remember? It’s fine.’

I stared at her hands. They should have been covered in blood, but they didn’t have a scratch on them.

‘Wow, that’s
amazing
.’ I stared at her. ‘You didn’t even have to psych yourself up.’

‘Will you hurry up?’ Dylan pointed at the window.

I hesitated. What about Ketty? I
had
to see her again. And she wanted to see me too. That look in her eye when she’d first seen me . . .

‘Nico!’ Dylan said furiously, crawling through the window. ‘Come
on.
’

It was okay. I’d go back for Ketty as soon as I’d helped Dylan get away. I hauled myself up and out through the window. With a thud I landed heavily on the cold, damp ground, beside Dylan. The safe was just in front of us. I reached out my hands and tried to focus on my breath again.