Child of Time Read online

  Honoré thought for a moment. ‘So where is this ball to take place? And when? I may be moved to attend myself...’

  ‘Oh sir,’ gabbled the Comte, ‘you would assuredly be most welcome. It is tomorrow night. At the Palazzo Bembo.’

  Of course it was. Honoré smiled, seeing the pieces start to fall together. And Emily had gone to the Palazzo to try to rescue the children, who were no doubt to play a part in this whole process. He stepped back from the Comte, and gestured to Roberto. With a final snarl at the Comte, Roberto raced away into the darkness again. Honoré crossed to the carriage and, pulling open one of the sacks, removed four of the masks from within.

  ‘Thank you for your help, Comte. Of course, you realise that if you breathe a word of this to anyone, my friend knows where you live...’

  The Comte swallowed and nodded mutely, watching Honoré as he moved from the carriage and away down the street to be swallowed up by the darkness lurking beyond the sizzling torches.

  ‘May the Devil protect me,’ the Comte muttered as he struggled to his feet and the rain started to come down harder.

  3

  When Honoré got back to the house, Maria was waiting for him.

  He shrugged off his coat and hung it over the back of a chair, where it dripped water onto the floor.

  Maria didn’t comment. It was late and he was obviously as tired as she was.

  ‘Anything happen?’ he asked.

  ‘Depends what you mean,’ said Maria, yawning. ‘I phased back to the future, to the Cathedral, just like always. But there was one difference this time: I felt a bit more in control of the process, as if I might actually be able to direct my movements to some extent. So, on the way back, I experimented.’ Perhaps, she thought, it had something to with the fact that she had had companions on the previous trip; maybe Honoré’s influence had given her a degree of control over her powers at last, or at least made her more self-assured, knowing that she wasn’t totally alone.

  Honoré nodded and looked at her encouragingly.

  ‘You remember how, when we first came through together, we arrived on that bridge? Well, that’s where I’ve always appeared before, but tonight, this time, I pictured this house, and willed myself to arrive here...’

  ‘And you did?’ finished Honoré.

  ‘Not quite... The rubbish pile out the back, in fact... But the point is, it wasn’t the bridge. I did actually change something. I’m gaining control.’

  He nodded again. ‘I remember when I first saw a timesnake, I had no idea what I was seeing or what was happening. And the first few times with Emily... well, it was a little uncoordinated and uncomfortable to say the least.’

  Maria looked thoughtful. ‘Yes. The first few times, I was so ill... I started to starve myself, as I couldn’t bear to be sick every time I arrived... and of course I never knew when I was going to leave!’ Perhaps one day, she mused, she would gain enough control to stay put in one place? She sighed – being able to settle down was a luxury she’d never been able to contemplate. She wandered to the table and picked up one of the masks that Honoré had appropriated from the Comte. ‘Ugly looking thing... So these are the masks that Marco created?’

  It was made from black velvet and consisted of a cap that covered the top part of the head, joined to an eye-mask that came down just as far as the nose, leaving the wearer’s mouth exposed. It was, as were they all, decorated with many tiny bone fragments, which glinted white against the black velvet, outlining the eye holes, creating faux eyebrows and forming delicate patterning over the skull cap. The bones were probably those of birds and rats, something that could be obtained fairly easily.

  Honoré attempted to fit one of the masks over his head. ‘I hope they vary in size... or this could be quite a squeeze.’

  Maria tried on the one she was holding, and it fitted well. ‘So, when is the ball?’

  ‘Tomorrow night.’

  ‘And Emily?’ asked Maria.

  ‘Emily has gone to try to help the children,’ said Honoré. ‘I just hope she manages to stay out of trouble.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ said Maria, placing one hand over his. He couldn’t care about Emily that much, she thought to herself, if he let her wander off on her own in a place like this.

  Honoré looked up into her face, which was mostly obscured by her mask of vivid scarlet and bone, and smiled briefly. ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said, but his eyes told a different story.

  ‘You fool!’

  The voice woke Emily, and she shielded her eyes against the sudden glare from the doorway. Against all the odds, she’d slept, though she’d no idea how long for.

  There was a stranger in the corridor, obviously chastising the guard who’d brought her here. The stranger was maybe in his early thirties and of medium build, dressed in a rich purple robe over black trousers and jerkin – and he was staring at her with increasing incredulity. He turned on the guard again, his voice deep and rich. ‘Don’t you realise who this is?’

  Emily frowned. The man had been handsome once, she decided, but his face was now pitted and riven with scars. She realised with a suddenly shock that some of those scars mirrored the markings on Maria’s face. Had he suffered the same tortures as she had?

  He was evidently important. She could tell by the way the guard was shifting nervously from foot to foot and muttering apologies under his breath.

  ‘No, no, of course you don’t... Release her this moment.’ The man turned back to Emily, eyes apologetic. ‘My lady, I am so, so sorry for this inconvenience. This dolt will be punished.’

  She decided to play along with this apparent case of mistaken identity. ‘Of course.’

  The guard swallowed nervously, standing to one side as Emily swept to her feet in the most imperious manner she could muster under the circumstances. She stood and waited as the scarred man waved the guard out of the way and took her by the arm. ‘This way, my lady.’

  She allowed herself to be led out and along the cell-lined passageway. ‘I was starting to think that I would be there forever.’

  The man apologised again, clearly mortified. ‘When that idiot guard’s report reached me, along with your description, I had to come and check for myself. Such a terrible error is totally unacceptable. Today of all days.’

  Emily nodded. ‘Of all days,’ she echoed.

  ‘And you must make ready for the ball... for our plans to come to fruition.’

  ‘Is all prepared?’ she asked, hoping that she might be able to find out a little more.

  ‘Yes, my lady. All is ready. The guests should start to arrive in about four hours’ time, and then... then we can begin the summoning...’

  ‘Indeed.’ Four hours? She must have slept right through the night. Honoré would be worried about her.

  ‘But you must be upset, to have suffered such dreadful treatment... Guards!’

  They had reached the top of a flight of steps leading out of the cell area, and at the man’s cry, a second guard unlocked the door there. Emily then followed the scarred man through into what she assumed must be one of the main hallways of the Palazzo. The guard stood to attention.

  ‘Your orders, Grand Master?’

  The man gestured to Emily. ‘Escort the lady to her bedchamber to rest before this evening’s events. Allow no further misfortune to befall her.’

  The guard nodded. ‘At once, Grand Master. This way, my lady.’

  Emily swallowed. So this was the Grand Master of the Sodality? She wondered exactly who he had mistaken her for... Never mind: she could use this to her advantage, and the first thing to do was to make sure that she wasn’t taken to the room in which her supposed alter-ego could possibly already be sleeping. She could do without that sort of confusion.

  As they reached the top of the stairs, Emily stopped the guard with her hand. ‘Guard, I feel that I wish
to rest somewhere closer by. Take me to the first free room.’

  The guard looked slightly taken aback, but nevertheless nodded, ‘Yes, my lady.’

  He opened a door for her just a little further along the passage. She entered, dismissed the guard and waited until the door had closed behind him before finally letting out a sigh of relief. So far, so good... Now, what had the Grand Master said? Four hours to go before whatever it was kicked off... Not long, then, to try to find those missing children. But where to start?

  Emily moved over to the window and stood looking out on the courtyard below, wondering what Honoré was up to at that moment, whether or not he had discovered enough about the Sodality’s plans to be able to stop them. And what of Maria? Would she help them, or was she less trustworthy than she seemed – or, at least, too much a part of all this to be on their side? It was a beautiful afternoon, and for a moment she stared out at the gardens beyond the courtyard, wondering how a place so beautiful could harbour such evil.

  As she let her mind drift for a moment, she became convinced that somebody was watching her. She swung round, but the room was empty, and when she thought about it, it wasn’t so much something she had seen as something she had heard. Somebody was calling to her, deep inside her mind. There was a tugging at her memories, and things were starting to slide into place, but she wasn’t sure what it all meant as yet.

  Emily?

  Walking through the streets with Maria holding his arm, Honoré admired the bustle of Venice in this time period. So many people, so much life and colour. People walked past them dressed like peacocks, and others sat by the canals and bridges just enjoying the warmth of the day. The rain had cleared up overnight, and the morning’s sun had made Venice gleam as though it had just been washed. Even the smell seemed more bearable, although he still couldn’t get to grips with the street gutters and constantly having to watch where he stepped.

  He was concerned about Emily, about where she was and how her rescue attempt was going. He was also worried about Maria, who, ever since she had realised that she was gaining some control over her powers early that morning, had been lost in thought. He felt sorry for her, and hoped in his heart that when this was all over, she could be happy. All he could see in his mind’s eye when he looked at her, however, was a grinning skull covered with deeply cut runes. He resolved to try to ensure that, before she ended up in that state, she would at least experience some period of happiness in her life.

  It seemed like everything was down to him right now, and all the responsibility was starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he’d made the right move in going to the morgue in the first place, or whether he’d have been better off just meeting his clients as arranged.

  They stopped off at another friend of Maria’s and arranged to borrow a couple of suitable outfits for the masque that night. Honoré was supplied with a well-fitting suit made of dark blue velvet, a ruffled shirt and a black cummerbund for his waist. Maria selected a pale green silk dress, something light and easy to move in, and to this she added a long-sleeved white top and some long, close-fitting pantaloons, also made of silk. He realised she was choosing garments that would hide as much of her scarred flesh as possible and make her less conspicuous. If truth be told, Honoré found her markings curiously attractive, and he felt himself wanting to brush aside the long black hair she hid behind and let everyone see her inner beauty; but he didn’t dare, so he busied himself wrapping the outfits in paper and string and admired the city instead as they returned to the house to rest and prepare.

  Emily?

  There it was again. Emily shook her head and wondered if she were going mad. She eased open the door to her room and peeked out, but there was nobody around. It was a girl’s voice anyway, and she’d not seen any other women here so far – just the guards and the Grand Master.

  Unless... It couldn’t be, could it? Maybe the children were looking for her as much as she was looking for them. But how could they know who she was or that she was even there? She padded quickly along the passage, away from the staircase, deciding to follow her instincts. Corridors led off on either side, but she kept going straight ahead, her inner vision guiding her now.

  Keep going, Emily. The voice in her head made her lose her balance momentarily, and she stumbled. But it was stronger now. She’d found the connection in her mind, and she concentrated on it, sensing the mind at the other end of the link.

  Hello, Emily. The voice was warm, but there was a undertone of fear, of exhaustion and of consciousness stretched too far and too thin.

  ‘Violet?’ she whispered out loud. She didn’t know how that name had come to her, but she was sure it was right. She knew a Violet. A girl of around 17 or 18 years old, whom she had encountered in the 1950s, one of the Peculiar, a group of talented children who had been part of a secret project at that time. Could this really be the same person?

  ‘Where are you?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t see you.’

  I know. And the voice seemed to stutter in her head. But we can feel you. Follow my voice and you’ll find us.

  A wave of dizziness passed through her and, breathing heavily, she rested one hand on the wall for support until it passed.

  Turn around. Follow your instincts.

  She did as the whispering suggested. Without thinking too hard about it, she let Violet guide her along corridors and down staircases, trusting the girl not to betray her to the guards, wherever they were. Before long, she was walking along a dingy corridor somewhere in the basement of the building. She had taken what felt like a tortuous route, mainly because, as the voice – Violet? Was it really Violet? – explained, they had wanted to ensure that she remained undetected. Now she stood beside a metal door set into the wall.

  This is the place. Take care, Emily. The sights are not pleasant, and you must be strong.

  Emily nodded, and immediately felt foolish, as there was no-one there to see her. She gently pushed open the door and slipped inside.

  The first thing to hit her was the heat: it was humid, sticky and uncomfortable. The second was the noise: the usual silence of the Palazzo was shattered by the sounds of crying and occasional screams, while machinery chugged away in the background.

  Keeping to the shadows, she made her way across to a low railing, which overlooked a large area below. She looked through the railing, and her eyes opened wide.

  Below her was what could only be described as a torture chamber. There were six tables lined up across the room, and on top of each was strapped the body of a child. One of them was little more than a baby. The tables were spotted with blood and dirt, and while some of the children writhed and cried, others just lay there, utterly exhausted. She could see that some of them had markings on their bodies similar to Maria’s, while others had shining rods bisecting their flesh, and one boy even seemed to have a grotesque artificial limb in place of an arm. Emily was reminded of the monstrous part-human, part-machine creature Abraxas, and of the abomination she and Honoré had encountered the last time they had skirted close to the Sodality... Was this how such creatures had been developed? With experimentation undertaken on children? She was sickened by it all, and knew she had to make it stop – whatever the cost.

  A flight of steps led down to the chamber, but she dare not descend as she could hear people talking down there, somewhere out of her field of vision. No doubt there would be guards, and maybe scientists keeping track of what was happening. Some of the equipment was certainly not of this time period – glass and electronic components mixed in with steam power and cogs and gears. A mishmash of technology from various different eras, all called into the service of the Sodality.

  She edged closer to the railing, straining to get a better look. As she did so, two men moved into view below, taking up positions by a workbench, where they stood and compared notes. She crouched down and listened intently to their co
nversation.

  ‘... with a 20% success rate on the increase of mental capacity.’

  ‘What does that mean in real terms?’

  ‘For the Child of Time, we are aiming for a sixty per cent increase, so we are still far short of our target.’

  ‘Sixty per cent! You think we can reach that?’

  ‘Well, eventually, if we increase the power through the implant...’

  At this point the men wandered out of sight again, and Emily could make out no more of what they said. She smiled grimly as she reflected on what she had overheard. It was that term again: the Child of Time... What could it mean? Something they were trying to create? Was this where she’d been born?

  Fighting a rising feeling of nausea, she crept around the room, keeping under the cover of boxes and pieces of machinery as far as possible and trying to get to the far side, where she had seen another door. Violet had gone silent in her mind, but she was past that now and determined to rescue as many of the prisoners here as she could manage. If even one of them succeeded in escaping the Sodality’s clutches, it would be worthwhile.

  A door crashed open somewhere below, and she heard the sound of booted feet approaching briskly across the stone floor of the basement area. She moved over the railing again and peered down just in time to see the Grand Master sweep into view, his purple cloak billowing around him, no doubt come to check on the preparations.

  ‘Surgeon!’ He strode over to the closest of the operating tables and glanced dispassionately at the girl lying there. His voice was deep and powerful. ‘Surgeon! Attend me now!’

  A man came hurrying over to him, nervous and twitchy.

  ‘What is the status? We have but a few hours to prepare for the ceremony, and the chosen ones must be ready.’

  The Surgeon nodded, obviously in great agitation. ‘We have encountered difficulties, my lord, but we are making progress.’