Time Hunters and the Spear of Fate, The (3 page)

‘What do you mean?’

‘Because the party’s
taking place in the Indian Ocean …’

Becky looked
gobsmacked. ‘
In the Indian Ocean
? As in … underwater?’

‘Well it is called the
‘Enchantment
Beneath
the Sea Dance.’ So, yes, it’s happening underwater.
Six hundred fathoms down, to be precise.’

Becky couldn’t believe
her ears. ‘But - but what happens if you’re discovered?’

‘By what exactly?’

‘I don’t know … a
submarine?’

Uncle Percy gave an
unconcerned shrug. ‘I doubt that’ll happen. It’s happening forty seven thousand
years ago, during the middle Paleolithic era… I don’t think Neanderthal man had
submarines.’

Chapter
4

Hologramophone Alone

A short while later,
Becky opened her bedroom door. The air was perfumed with the sweet smell of
paper-white daffodils. She scanned the room quickly and knew at once Maria had
been busy. Not only was it spotlessly clean, but there were all kinds of
decorative touches that could only have come from her: a hand-carved olive wood
manger scene had been placed on the chest of drawers; a holly wreath decked
with four red candles lay flat on the bedside table; eight nutcrackers in the
form of wooden soldiers lined the window ledge; a large Christmas tree swathed in
tinsel filled the corner of the room.

As her gaze found the
wardrobe, she saw three very different outfits hanging from the doorframe. She
was pleasantly surprised.  Unusually for Uncle Percy, each one seemed
quite normal and perfectly wearable. The first was the same leather trousers,
loose-fitting cotton shirt and shin-high boots she’d worn recently to the
Caribbean; the second, a brand new pair of black jeans and fitted shirt; the
third, an ankle length silk dress in chestnut-brown with short sleeves and a
high neckline.

She walked over and
stared at each in turn, before looping the dress from its hanger. The fabric
felt so light to the touch, so delicate, like wafer-thin chocolate. Her hand
skimmed over it, top to bottom, barely daring to brush the material with her
fingers for fear of staining it somehow. She had never worn a dress prior to
the stupid one she’d been forced to wear to Victorian Oxford, but this was
different. This was the most gorgeous dress she’d ever seen.

However, just as she
considered wearing it to the party, an image formed in her head. Joe was
laughing hysterically and waggling a stumpy finger at her. She knew there and
then it wasn’t an option. He would be unbearable and she’d have to strangle him
with a clump of seaweed.

She returned the dress
carefully to its hanger and detached the jeans and shirt. She held them up to
the light and gave a satisfied smile.

Her decision had been
made.

Nevertheless, as she
began to unpack her case, her thoughts drifted back to the dress, and she knew
if invited to next year’s party, her decision would be very different. She
would choose the dress. And if Joe teased her, then she would just have to find
something else to strangle him with.

Just then, the door
creaked open. A peculiar moan rattled the air. She glanced over as a giant
rubber shark’s head inched into view, its right eyeball dangling down on a coil
of spring.

Joe was grinning at
her from inside the shark’s mouth. ‘What do you think?’ He flicked the eyeball,
which bobbed wildly from side to side. ‘I’m a zombie shark…’

Becky shivered. It had
been only six weeks since they had survived a real zombie shark attack and she
didn’t find the costume even slightly amusing. ‘Really?’ she replied
sarcastically. ‘I never would’ve guessed.’

‘Uncle Percy had it
specially made.’ Joe jumped up and down making the enormous jaws flap open and
shut. ‘Isn’t it the best costume ever?’

‘No,’ Becky replied
bluntly, ‘but it may be the daftest.’

Joe gave a dismissive
snort. ‘You’re only jealous.’

‘Jealous? Because you
look like a prat?’

The words had only
just left her mouth when a shrill buzz rang out from a tiny black box on the
windowsill. A light on the top of the box flashed green.  

Joe looked at the box.
‘What’s that?’

‘Dunno,’ Becky
replied. ‘It’s not been there before.’ She approached the box and picked it up.
Rotating it in her fingers, she saw an LED display that read:

Incoming
Hologramophonic message:

Recipient: Becky
Mellor

Sender: Percy Halifax

Location: Rolls Royce
Silver Ghost

Becky looked blankly
at Joe. ‘What’s a Hologramophonic message?’

‘Press the button and
find out.’

Setting the box back
on the sill, Becky pressed it and stepped back. At once, three lasers shot out
and converged in the centre of the room, forming a life-sized three-dimensional
image.  She gasped with astonishment.

Uncle Percy was
staring back at them, a tweed flat cap containing his long silver hair from
what appeared to be a very stiff wind. His arms were extended before him,
gripping a steering wheel that was just out of sight. Behind him, the
countryside blurred past in a silvery haze. ‘Good afternoon, Becky.’

Stunned, Becky said,
‘Err, afternoon.’

‘And Joe, I see.’
Uncle Percy gave a hearty laugh. ‘Your costume looks fantastic. Actually,
there’s a prize for the best fancy dress tonight. I think you’ve got a shot at
beating Berwin Babbage and I hear he’s coming as a shoal of plankton.’

‘Becky thinks I look
like a prat.’

‘A sprat?’ Uncle Percy
replied, clearly struggling to hear Joe’s voice over the rattling wind. ‘Well,
that’s still in keeping with the aquatic theme.’

‘Uncle Percy, what’s
going on?’ Becky asked. ‘What’s this box-thingy?’

‘Oh, it’s a
Hologramophone
,’
Uncle Percy shouted back. ‘Very old technology, but quite handy. It’s better
than your conventional smart phone, don’t you think?’

‘I guess,’ Becky
replied.

‘So it’s a 3D
videophone?’ Joe asked.

‘That’s precisely what
it is, Joe.’

Joe nodded his
approval. ‘Cool.’

‘I hope you don’t mind
me installing one in your bedroom, Becky,’ Uncle Percy said,  ‘but I’ve
fitted them in all of the rooms at the Hall as an added security device. I’m
sure you understand.’

Becky still looked
stunned to be having the conversation. ‘It’s your house.’

‘So where are you?’
Joe asked.

‘I’m on my way to see
Miriam Potts, one of the GITT crowd.’ A dark look crossed Uncle Percy’s face.
‘Apparently, she needs to see me rather urgently. But I’ll be back in plenty of
time for the party. We’re leaving at seven so if you could be ready for then.’

‘Course,’ Becky
replied.

‘Ta ta for now then…’
And with that, Uncle Percy’s hologram vanished.

Becky glanced at Joe,
intrigued.  ‘I wonder what she wants to see him about?’

‘Dunno,’ Joe shrugged.

‘You don’t think it’s
to do with Emerson Drake, do you?

‘Wouldn’t surprise
me,’ Joe replied sourly. ‘He’s probably kidnapped Santa…’

*

Becky managed to
banish all thoughts of Drake from her mind, and she and Joe shared an
enjoyable, bicker-free few hours together. After joining Maria for some
Kinderpunsch (an apple and grape fruit drink), they wandered to the stables to
visit Pegasus and Gump.

To Becky’s surprise,
Pegasus had grown significantly since the last time they had seen each other;
now as tall as Becky, Pegasus’ snow-white white wings were about three feet
long and fully feathered. Gump, too, had grown and was approximately the size
of a garden shed.

Thick flakes of snow
tumbled from dull-white cloud as Becky led Pegasus along the path that bordered
the lake, which was frozen solid. She watched with amusement as Joe clambered
on to Gump’s back, tucked his legs beneath the fan-like head plate and rode him
like an elephant. Gump mooed happily, every now and again glancing back at
Pegasus as if the whole thing were some strange prehistoric courtship ritual.

All the while, Becky
couldn’t stop thinking about that night’s party. Finally, she would get to meet
the travelling community and, more importantly, have the opportunity to thank
them for what she knew was their extensive search for her dad. Each Monday
morning, as regular as clockwork, Uncle Percy emailed her
The Travelling
Times
, the GITT newspaper, which was invariably jam-packed with reports of
places and timelines that had already been investigated and eliminated from
their investigations. And each time she felt disheartened at their lack of
success, she would recall Uncle Percy’s words.

‘Remember, Becky, your
father is a hugely intelligent man. I don’t care where or when Drake has
imprisoned him. He will find a way of letting us know where he is. It could be
the smallest thing – a scrawl on a wall that’s out of time, a tactical whisper
to a fellow prisoner - but one way or another, I believe your father will find
a way to get a message to us. You just have to look for the signs and have
faith…’

And she did have
faith.

She really did.

After an hour or so,
Becky and Joe left Pegasus and Gump and strolled over to the tree house to see
Will. To their disappointment, he wasn’t there. They combed the grounds, but
couldn’t find him anywhere. Eventually they returned to the Hall and joined
Maria and Jacob for afternoon tea, during which Becky asked if either of them
knew Will’s whereabouts. At once, Maria became twitchy and mumbled something in
German, before making her apologies and scuttling off upstairs to change the
bedding, leaving Jacob to answer in what could only be described as a cheerless
manner.

‘I truly don’t know,
child.’

‘Well how long’s he
been gone?’ Joe pressed.

‘Five days,’ Jacob
replied flatly. ‘And if you wish to discuss the matter further, you must see
your uncle…’ Then he promptly stood and left to repair a wind-damaged fence in
the archery field.

It was six o’ clock
when Becky retired to her bedroom; the excitement she’d felt earlier had been
dulled by the niggling feeling something wasn’t quite right. After all, Uncle
Percy had rushed off on their first afternoon together and Will was still
nowhere to be seen. Trying to push these concerns to the back of her mind, she
showered, dried her hair and got dressed. At five to seven, she looked in the
mirror. The jeans and shirt were a perfect fit. Satisfied she didn’t look too
bad, she heard the door creak open.

‘Are you ready?’ Joe
said, beaming from inside the shark outfit. He scanned Becky from top to bottom
and said, ‘Woooow! ’

Surprised, Becky was
about to thank him for the compliment when he followed it with, ‘You look
boring!’ She was about to snap at him when his expression turned grave. ‘Uncle
Percy’s back. I heard him talking to Jacob downstairs.’

‘What were they
saying?’ Becky asked quickly.

‘I’m not sure,’ Joe
replied. ‘They were talking really quietly, whispers really. I’m pretty sure
Uncle Percy mentioned ‘
Berlin
’, but I can’t be certain.’

‘Berlin?’ Becky
repeated. ‘What about Berlin?’

‘Dunno,’ Joe replied.
‘But I do know Jacob sounded really worried after that, scared even. Whatever
it was freaked him out.’ He shook his head, the shark’s pendulous eye swung
left and right. ‘Summat weird’s definitely going on, Becks. That’s for sure.’

Becky couldn’t help
but agree.

*

As the downstairs
clock chimed seven, Becky and Joe descended the stairs to see a beaming Uncle
Percy standing at the bottom, dressed in a nineteenth century dress coat with
dazzling golden epaulettes and a wide bicorn hat pinned with a spectacular
diamond chelengk. His right jacket sleeve was empty and pinned against his
chest.

Becky thought if he
was troubled in any way he certainly didn’t show it.

‘Good evening,’ Uncle
Percy said in a loud, cheery voice.

‘Hiya,’ Becky replied,
rather mutely.

‘Evening,’ Joe said.
‘You look great. Who’re you supposed to be?’

‘I’ll give you a
clue.’ Uncle Percy nodded at the empty sleeve. ‘He’s an ‘armless chap!’

Joe shrugged. ‘No
idea.’

Uncle Percy frowned. ‘Please
tell me you’re joking.’

‘No,’ Joe replied. ‘I
mean, I’m guessing you’re a sailor but – ’

‘I’m Lord Horatio
Nelson,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘The most decorated sailor in British naval
history.’

Joe looked
unimpressed. ‘Oh, that bloke on the pole in London, the one covered in pigeon
dung?’

‘Well – err –yes,’
Uncle Percy replied with a sigh. ‘And that dung-covered pole is Nelson’s
Column.’

‘Then maybe if you
covered yourself in dung you’d look more like him.’ Joe grinned mischievously.

Uncle Percy was about
to reprimand him when Becky cut in.

‘Where’s Will?’

Uncle Percy’s face
darkened; he opened his mouth as if to reply and then closed it again. ‘He’s
not here.’

‘We know that,’ Becky
continued. ‘Where is he?’

‘We can discuss that
later,’ Uncle Percy said in a low voice. ‘We have a party to attend and –’

Becky stood firm. ‘I’m
sorry but I think we should discuss it now. Something’s going on and I think
we’ve a right to know.’

Uncle Percy gave a
heavy sigh and said, ‘He’s travelling.’

‘Time travelling?’
Becky said, shocked. ‘Without you?’