فصل 52

CHAPTER 52

THE VELVET SACK

REVILE, HIS WIDE FACE CLAMMY with the sweat of fear, stood outside the door to the king’s chamber. His left hand was in his coat pocket. He raised his right hand toward the door, made a fist, then let it fall. He took several deep breaths, trying to work up the courage to knock.

“Enter.”

Revile jumped. Somehow von Schatten had known he was outside the door. There seemed to be nothing von Schatten didn’t know.

Revile entered the chamber. As always, it was almost dark, lit only by a candle burning on the king’s writing table. Von Schatten stood next to the table. The king was nowhere to be seen.

“Do we have the stone?” said von Schatten.

“Yes, Baron,” said Revile. “The Skeleton and his people took it to the Underground. But there was a…That is, we did get the stone, but there was an unexpected development.”

Von Schatten took a step closer, almost touching Revile. Revile felt a horrible coldness creep into his chest. He tried to step back, but found he could not.

“What unexpected development?” said von Schatten. By the flickering light of the candle, Revile saw his own terrified face reflected in von Schatten’s coal-black eyeglass lenses.

“There were other people at the museum. They got there before the Skeleton. And they had the stone.”

The dull-red glow appeared at the edges of von Schatten’s glasses. “Who were they?” he said.

“Five of them. Three men—we don’t know who they were—and two children. The Darling girl…and the flying boy.”

The glow around von Schatten’s glasses intensified. Revile felt the cold deepen.

“Was the boy captured?” said von Schatten.

“N…No, Baron, they…uhh.” Revile was unable to finish, as a searing pain shot through him. He realized he was feeling von Schatten’s anger. It lasted a moment, and then subsided. Revile desperately wanted to step backward, but still could not.

“They what?” said von Schatten.

“They escaped, Baron. There was a struggle; others arrived and set upon the Skeleton’s men. It was dark; apparently they had some kind of animal, which wounded the Skeleton’s men. But the Skeleton did get the stone.”

There was a long and, for Revile, exceedingly uncomfortable silence. When von Schatten spoke, his tone was measured, though Revile could still feel his fury.

“If they were after the stone,” said von Schatten, “then they know about the sword. They must know the entire plan.”

“Yes, Baron.”

“Tell Superintendent Blake I want him to intensify his search for the boy and the others. Tell him to concentrate on the neighborhood around the museum. They have to be staying somewhere.”

“Yes, Baron.”

“What is the situation at the Tower?”

“All is in readiness, Baron. We have three men in place, posing as representatives of the king. The Beefeaters weren’t happy about this, but they could hardly argue with a direct request from His Majesty. Officially, our men are there to oversee the safeguarding of the jewels as they are transported from their cases and prepared for the coronation next week.”

“Do these preparations involve Curtana?”

“As it happens, Curtana is to be polished tomorrow, Baron, along with the Sword of Spiritual Justice and the Sword of Temporal Justice.”

“I see,” said von Schatten, looking away, thinking. Seconds passed, stretching out to a minute. Finally von Schatten turned back to Revile and said, “Tell our men at the Tower I want the substitution to be made tomorrow, when the sword is being transported.”

Revile was stunned. “Tomorrow?” he said. “But—”

“Tomorrow,” said von Schatten. “Inform the Skeleton there has been a change of plan. And arrange for the train. We will reunite Curtana with its tip tomorrow night. We must act quickly, before the boy and his allies can make any more mischief.”

“Yes, Baron.”

“And tell the Skeleton to be on guard. We cannot allow the boy to thwart us. I am disappointed that the Skeleton has failed twice now to capture him.”

“He did not fail completely, Baron.”

“What do you mean?” said von Schatten.

Revile pulled his left hand from his pocket. He was holding a black velvet sack, tied tightly at the top with a double-knotted silver cord.

“What is that?” said von Schatten.

“Something very dear to the flying boy,” said Revile. He handed the sack to von Schatten. “I suggest you open it carefully.”

Von Schatten swiftly untied the knot with long, bony fingers. Keeping a firm grip on the top of the bag, he opened it just a bit. From within came a faint glow, and then a lone mournful chime. Von Schatten retied the knot and looked at Revile. He did not smile—von Schatten never smiled—but there was a look of grim satisfaction on his hatchet-thin face.

“This pleases me,” he said, his bony forefinger tapping the velvet sack. “The boy will never leave England without her.”

“No, Baron.”

“Which means,” said von Schatten, “the boy will never leave England.”