Beyond the Knock Knock Door (23 page)

Her heartbeat fluttered as the harlequin reached the edge. Feeling the salty winds blow up his back, he suddenly realised her plan. “
You need to learn patience,
” her sensei had warned. She squeezed the hilt of the staff, drew on all her strength then thrust forward.

Unfortunately, the slight hesitation saved him. He leapt over her head, landed behind her then swept her feet from under her. Forlornly, she slammed on the deck and heard the wooden staff bounce into the sea.

‘Bravo,' he said, yanking hold of her long black hair. ‘A cunning tactic, young miss. Pity you're not one of us. You'd make a great harlequin.'

She clawed, kicked and screamed as he spun her by the hair towards that very same gap. Below her, the wide, hungry hole of the giant whirlpool roared.

‘Murderer!' Michael yelled.

The black harlequin's eyes blazed as the boy-knight crash-tackled him around the waist. Forced to let go of Samantha, the black harlequin grabbed at a railing but caught nothing but air!

Screaming, he fell overboard.

Victory came at a cost, however. Michael had rushed at him with too much speed and, heavy with armour, couldn't slow his momentum. Luke and Samantha yelled as he, too, tumbled overboard.

A blue flash forced Luke and Samantha back from the edge of the skysled. For a few moments, everything was caught in a time stutter. Unknowingly, Luke ran in reverse, stopped, yelled with outstretched arms, rushed to the railing, then zipped backwards again. His sister did likewise – jumping to her feet and lying down over and over. The hover engines whined and the flying platform shook underfoot, but within seconds the stabilisers kicked in and full power returned. Luke and Samantha blinked away the stinging blindness then looked at the whirlpool, fearing for their brother.

But rather than see Michael splash into the sea, their hearts filled with relief. Dangling midair and stripped of both gauntlets and helmet, he twisted in the wind, arms stretched to breaking point.

‘
Get me up!
'

Luke's jetpack gave one final blast before he returned his brother to safety. Using Samantha's jacket as a pillow, they laid him on the deck. And just in time,
too. Michael's shoulders were ready to pop their sockets.

‘But how?' she asked.

‘The crates,' he pointed, still weak from the lightning surge.

Luke rushed over and found the Gold Knight's gauntlets, helmet and sword wedged among the crates. When he fished them out, they boomeranged back to their rightful owner.

A wide grin cracked across Michael's face. ‘The magnetism works both ways.'

Samantha smiled, too, her eyes red. ‘Don't do that again, okay? Dying's a filthy habit.'

He laughed as she cried.

Half an hour later, the three of them tended to the surviving warriors of the Thirteen Tribes the best that they could. Some had lost their lives; others needed a hospital.

‘Has anyone ever survived the whirlpool?' Michael asked, leaning hard against the railing as he stared below. He wiped away a tear before anyone noticed.

Tahoke winced as he hobbled beside him and spied the swirling vortex. ‘I'm sorry. Our friend, Aurelio, has joined his fathers.'

Michael closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer.

Across from him, his brother and sister removed a tarpaulin covering some crates and discovered a cage with leg irons. It had clearly been used to smuggle captives to the Broken Isles. As fitting justice, they locked the harlequins inside.

‘Who's a little birdie now?' Luke asked. ‘
Wark! Wark! Wark!
'

The Vulture spat. Just like the rest of his troupe, he'd been stripped of his weapons, costume and mask. To the triplets' surprise, each one was human. Not Pacificans. Not monsters. Not hideous beings. Just plain humans.

‘We should get moving,' Michael said, heading to the steering wheel to distract himself from his grief. ‘That slaver ship should have found us already.'

‘The same slaver ship whose frequency I've been jamming?' Luke asked, tapping his wristpad.

Michael laughed with a pang of guilt. He should never have left his siblings behind at the Scorned camp. They worked best as a team.

‘Well, I've got my pirate ship,' Samantha said. ‘What do you say? Time to find a good drive-through?'

‘We must return to the mines and free my people,' Tahoke said. ‘We need to raise an army against these Pacificans.'

‘No,' Michael said firmly. ‘War will only mean more deaths. Besides, we've almost won the battle. All that's left to do is to tell Queen Oriana, who'll arrest the surviving traitors and free your people.'

‘What are we waiting for?' Luke asked. ‘Let's find out who they are.'

A subdued laughter rolled from the deck of the skysled as it hovered off a coral cay. The Lady of Hearts shrieked in frustration as her last glass globe sailed past Luke, who playfully jetted around her. After another
hour of standing in the glaring sun without food or water, she surrendered.

‘Now, missy,' Samantha said, walking up to her. ‘Let's see if I'm right about who's behind this mask.' She ripped it off but ended up disappointed.

The Lady of Hearts snarled at them with an unfamiliar face. She had strawberry blonde hair, pale skin and wrinkles spreading from her eyes. She too was human: an off-worlder, not a Pacifican.

‘Secret police need people in power to protect them,' Samantha said. ‘Who are you working for?'

The Lady of Hearts smirked and turned away. Undeterred, Samantha repeated the question. ‘And remember, there's still a shipping ban on the Western Seas. It might be a long, long time before you're found out here.'

‘We harlequins work for no one!'

‘Suit yourself. You better hope the sharks don't get you first.'

The skysled sped across the seas towards Pacifico. Tahoke piloted the controls while Samantha rifled through the harlequins' costumes for clues.

‘Wait!' Michael said. ‘We've got to turn back.'

‘Why?' she asked.

Michael hobbled to the stern and pointed back towards the whirlpool. ‘Don't you see? It's the Knock-Knock Door!'

His siblings joined him, but they didn't share his excitement.

‘Think about it. It attracts lots of water.'

‘But there's no Door,' Luke said. ‘It's just a giant hole.'

‘Maybe it's on the seabed. What else can hold that much water except an ocean?'

Sceptical, Luke turned to his sister then Tahoke, who clicked in frustration to his surviving warriors. None looked too pleased. ‘I'm not with you on this one, Mikey.'

‘What did you just say?' she interrupted.

‘It's on the seabed,' Michael repeated.

‘No, after that. “What else can hold that much water except an ocean?”' She groaned and slapped her forehead. ‘How stupid of me. I've been thinking too small.'

‘Sam, start making sense because the nearest loony house is a million planets away.'

She joined Tahoke at the steering wheel. ‘I know where the Knock-Knock Door is. It's not the whirlpool. It's back at Pacifico.'

‘Are you sure?' Michael asked.

‘Absolutely. Let's rescue the Queen Bee then go home.'

Stingrays soared beside the skysled as it descended into Pacifico. Below, among the streets and canals, the city was at its busiest. Royal yachts and presidential starships from a hundred worlds were moored in the marina under tight security as their leaders joined the tricentennial celebrations.

‘Take your positions,' Tahoke warned, dressed in the blue harlequin's costume. ‘We're approaching the titans.' The triplets finished securing the tarpaulin over the cage and crates then stood defiantly in their own harlequin disguises. Two marines on the giant stony crown stared at them with a mixture of suspicion and loathing before turning away, allowing the skysled to continue unopposed.

‘That was too easy,' Michael said.

‘Just more proof someone in power is involved,' Samantha added.

‘Set us down there,' Luke pointed. ‘It's the same warehouse.'

‘What do we do with them?' Tahoke asked, nodding towards their captives.

‘Leave them until we find Queen Oriana,' Michael said. ‘She'll arrest them for treason.'

The warehouse's roof opened automatically, allowing the skysled to land among the broken mining machines. The triplets and injured Scorned warriors ditched their costumes then regrouped outside.

‘Hopefully, the tunnels will take us to the palace,' Luke said, lifting up a grate. ‘We can sneak in without attracting trouble.'

He swapped his flashlight's battery with one from the warehouse and climbed down. Samantha followed, then Michael, who paused when Tahoke's men left for the streets.

‘We'll meet you at the palace,' the chieftain said. ‘First, my people need to learn the truth. They have a right to know their homeland is in danger.'

Reluctantly, the triplets watched them go. Discretion was vital. They hoped to reach Oriana first without tipping off the surviving traitors.

‘So who is it?' Luke asked his siblings as they followed the service tunnels under the harbour.

‘The black harlequin told us he'd been hired by the government to invade the Broken Isles,' she said. ‘It must be a politician.'

‘I reckon it's Prime Minister Federico,' Michael said. ‘We didn't know he existed until he got rid of Pasquale. He's probably been slowly working his way into power.'

‘You better be right,' Luke said. ‘We don't want to accuse an innocent man.'

Further along, as his flashlight swung through the darkness, he was stopped by Michael. ‘What are these?'

The walls were covered with graffiti and children's paintings. Some were of animals and flowers. Others, though, were gloomier. They depicted a battle between Pacifico and the Thirteen Tribes. Warriors on sharks rode through the streets and darkened the skies with arrows, while marines defended themselves with swords and pikes. Among their feet lay the dead and wounded.

Other items – broken clay pots, metal soup cups, chalk stubs, blackboards, books squeezed into cracks and a mouldy blanket hanging limply across the doorway of a makeshift sick room – provided clues that a large number of people had once sheltered down here. A lingering fear left the triplets cold.

‘Tahoke said there had been a lot of blood spilt between both nations, didn't he?' Michael stated.

‘And Cavalli's father had been killed by the Thirteen Tribes,' she added.

‘But this looks like a long time ago,' Luke said. ‘Possibly decades.'

‘Let's move on, hey?' Michael said. ‘Let's not worry about it now.'

Several more turns later, Luke hastened their pace. He led them through the steam room then towards the metal door with the peephole. ‘That's it,' he pointed.
‘The hidden dungeon. Lady Isabelle could still be inside.'

‘Then hurry up,' Samantha said, impatiently. ‘Let's rescue her.'

‘No, wait! It's guarded.'

He pulled the green harlequin's mask from the largest pouch, placed it on his face then knocked. Footsteps approached and the peephole slid across. The marine paled before throwing open the bolt. Michael rammed the door and Samantha hogtied the guard so he couldn't escape. Luke yelled ‘Clear!' after discovering no more marines. He lifted a key ring and hurried down the curving pathway.

The smell was vile, but it was nothing compared to the shock of facing dozens of grey eyes. The prisoners spotted the Hall of Heroes' costumes and stared at the triplets with hunger, confusion and anger. Luke dispelled any fears that they were conspiring with the jailers. He unlocked each cell as his siblings found food and water.

‘Get to the surface,' Michael said. ‘Tell everyone what you know.'

‘Isabelle's not here,' Luke said, looking through the prisoners – both Pacifican and Scorned alike. ‘Or the Red Samurai.'

‘We're too late. They've already been sold into slavery.'

‘We have to find them.'

‘One heroic gesture at a time,' Samantha said. ‘Time's running out. The traitor will soon know we're in the city. We need to find Oriana – now!'

As they fell into step behind the prisoners, a couple of stragglers turned a hook and a secret door swung open. They disappeared through it, just as they'd watched their jailers do. The triplets followed.

It branched into several more tunnels, including one dipping deep underground. ‘That's the way to the palace,' offered a prisoner.

He was right. At the other end, they discovered a spiralling staircase, which surfaced three floors above at a second secret door. When the triplets cracked it open, they covered their eyes against the brightness of a holo-painting. ‘It must be how the black harlequin snuck in at night,' Luke said.

Staying hidden, they spied a cloakroom. It was full of mirrors, couches, suits, shirts, walking canes, hats, shoes and colognes.

‘I've got an idea,' Michael said.

Dignitaries from across the universe filled the enormous ballroom, entertained by dancing troupes, trapeze artists and a full orchestra. They drank, discussed politics and marvelled at four giant cone-shaped cakes – each assembled with three thousand white-chocolate roses.

Disguised as nobles, and with most of their costumes locked in the cloakroom, the triplets moved among the guests, keeping an eye out for the newly elevated Prime Minister Federico. A few times they thought they heard his sly voice, only to be disappointed by a case of mistaken identity when they got close enough.

‘There he is,' Samantha said, pointing to a set of folding doors.

Applause overwhelmed the last hum of violins before four trumpeters quieted the din and turned the guests towards the new Prime Minister. He threw open his arms and announced, ‘Distinguished friends, in this, her family's three hundredth year in power, let us all welcome Her Majesty, Queen Oriana of Pacifico!'

The doors opened and everyone applauded. Beautiful as ever, Oriana sashayed through, wearing elbow-length gloves, a shell crown over her purple hair, a downy azure dress with a long train, and a giant blue butterfly mask. She curtsied to the dignitaries then brought the room to a hush. With a snap of her jewelled fingers, her mask suddenly flapped its wings and fluttered away! The guests erupted with more applause. But that was not all. With another snap, her entire blue dress exploded into thousands of smaller butterflies. Laughter soon filled the ballroom as the colourful insects landed on the noses and shoulders of nobles, monarchs and presidents.

As the orchestra struck up a rousing symphony, Oriana walked among the celebrations in a lavender silk gown, which had been hidden underneath. The chatter returned and Michael slipped through the crowd, trying to reach her, but Oriana's friends swarmed first. Against his better judgement, he held back to avoid causing a scene. Samantha and Luke had surrounded the Prime Minister anyway.

‘Are you sure Federico's the traitor?' Luke whispered,
finding the pair of handcuffs in one of his pouches. ‘I still think we're going after the wrong person.'

‘Who else could it be?' Samantha answered above a group of laughing lords and ladies. ‘Just stay back until Michael gives the signal, okay?'

The dignitaries continued to press Oriana, making it impossible for Michael to speak to her alone. As far as he knew, she hadn't even spotted him under this disguise.

Conversations were loud, animated and occasionally broken by a footman announcing the arrival of an important world leader. One dignitary in particular caught everyone's attention – an elderly woman, whose skin was painted completely white. She wore a silver crown of rubies, a necklace of sapphires and an all-white gown adorned with white peacock feathers fanning from her back. Her head was shaved completely bald except for a single topknot of black hair, which ran down her nape, just like the sugar merchant. And drawn around her eyes were circles of yellow, blue and green that matched more traditional peacock colours.

‘Your Majesty,' the woman said, curtseying. ‘My world wishes to honour your royal household's three hundredth anniversary with a gift.'

Her entourage wheeled forward an enormous cage containing eight strawberry finches. The birds leapt among the plants and chirped like silver bells.

‘Empress, you honour me greatly!' Queen Oriana mirrored the Empress's curtsey then wiggled her left fingers through the cage, hoping to attract a pretty finch.
‘Can my household return this favour in any way?'

The Empress smiled. ‘Word has reached even our ears from across the Seven Worlds about your musical prowess, Your Majesty. Would you indulge your guests and play from your mandolin?'

Oriana moved away from the cage and hid her right glove. ‘Respectfully, I cannot this day. I injured my hand in a fall.'

Amid the sighs, Michael screwed up his face. His memory flashed with images of their evening together among the instruments at the royal palace's observatory, and the battle with the harlequins – specifically the white harlequin. Oriana played the mandolin?

She nodded to the orchestra to resume its symphony, and the guests returned to their conversations. From the fringes, the marine sergeant – now promoted to captain – pushed through them until he reached Oriana. He begged her indulgence then whispered into her ear.

‘No!' she answered, reeling away. ‘They cannot be dead!'

Again, the ballroom hushed.

The Empress turned her wide, feathered gown around and asked, ‘Your Majesty? What news disturbs you?'

‘It's – It's the Gold Knight. He –' Michael reversed his direction, struggling to reach his siblings. ‘He is slain!' she yelled.

Shock overwhelmed the guests. The room whirled with grief and speculation, until fear bullied its way into people's hearts.

‘Who has committed such an act?' the Empress asked above the din. Several more voices echoed the same question.

‘The monster that lives on the Broken Isles and those who control it,' she said, sobbing.

‘Who controls it?'

‘The Scorned! They seek our riches for themselves and have declared war!'

All reason was lost among the noise and madness. The wild rumour soon became truth. Nobles called for the marines to take arms. Others promised to fight the savages and drive their kind from the Western Seas once and for all.

However, the growing anger drained away as a holographic recording beamed above their heads. It flashed with images of the pirate ship scouring the Broken Isles, thousands of slaves mining for gold, children sewing clothes, the harlequin sky battle, Aurelio's death and haggard prisoners locked away in the hidden underground jail. Everyone stood transfixed.

‘Who is responsible for these atrocities?' Prime Minister Federico suddenly shouted.

‘One of your own,' Michael yelled, throwing off his noble's disguise, alongside Luke and Samantha.

Again, the guests were taken aback. ‘The Gold Knight! He lives!'

‘Sir Michael?' Oriana asked, wide-eyed.

‘Healthy as you can see,' he answered. ‘But the same can't be said about the monster.'

‘Because it never existed,' Samantha yelled for the
whole gathering's benefit. ‘It's a lie to scare people away from what's really happening on the Broken Isles.'

‘Which you're watching, thanks to my built-in camera,' Luke said, tapping his earpiece's projector. ‘All this footage has been filmed during the past twenty-four hours.'

There was a great intake of breath. ‘Those mines are real?' Federico asked in a rising voice.

‘Yes, as your government well and truly knows, Prime Minister,' Michael answered. ‘And so are the slaves.'

‘Slaves owned by pirates,' Samantha said.

‘Pirates working for someone in this room,' Luke said.

‘Who?' the guests shouted.

‘Yes, who?' Oriana asked. ‘They will forfeit their life!'

‘Then, Your Majesty, Pacifico needs to find a new queen,' Michael said.

The news ambushed everyone. Lords and ladies stared at each other, while presidents and kings waved over their advisers. The initial confusion was expected but not what happened next. Rather than demanding she be arrested, the triplets encountered anger. ‘Outrageous!' people shouted. ‘Lies!'