Julius and the Watchmaker (17 page)

‘Rope?'

‘Yes, Julius, we'll need to be able to keep in contact when you go through, you'll see.'

Julius watched Clements clambering over the divan to fetch a coil of rope
. Now's your chance, Higgins. Make a run for it.

Springheel threw a switch and the brass wheels on the contraption whirred. ‘Look at this,' he said, beckoning to Julius as he unclipped one of the side panels and held a candle close to it.

Julius looked inside. There were thousands of cogs and wheels all interlocking and spinning at different speeds, some clockwise, some anti-clockwise.

‘Magnificent, isn't it?' said Springheel.

Julius stared inside.
It certainly is, Higgins.

‘You've heard about the coalminers in Cornwall who use canaries in cages to test for dangerous gases? Well, Julius, my boy, we are going to use that principle, but not in search of dangerous gases—in search of riches beyond the dreams of avarice.'

Springheel adjusted the brass cone at the end of the machine.

‘I can't go in myself, of course, I need to man the machine. Clements steadfastly refuses to go through the portal, snivelling coward that he is. We need someone brave, clever and reliable, someone who is in on the caper. My dear Julius, you're our man. It's one of your odd jobs. Simply nip in, take a quick look around and grab anything that looks valuable. We'll figure out what to do with it later.'

Springheel gave the cone one last twist and the contraption and the table started to vibrate. Clements approached with the coil of rope. ‘Look, Higgins,' he said, pointing at the Springheel Shaker. It had lifted off the table and was hovering a few inches above its surface.

‘I'm not going,' said Julius, with as much bravado as he could muster.

‘You have no choice, my boy,' said Springheel. ‘Two minutes, three at the most. I'll be keeping the Springheel Shaker in line while Clements holds the rope. If you need to be pulled out quick, just give two tugs. Two tugs from Clements and you come running back, understand?'

Clements tied the rope around Julius's waist, and Springheel gave the cone one last twist. A shimmering circle gradually formed in the air in front of the fireplace. Julius could still see the fireplace, but its image had become distorted, as if he was looking at it through a heat haze on a sweltering summer afternoon.

Clements put a pillowcase in Julius's hand. ‘Take this with you for the loot.'

Julius barely noticed the pillowcase. He was staring at the circle.

He's just opened a vortex, Higgins.

The circle of haze darkened and a faint image appeared as if through a misted window. Julius could just make out black rooftops stretching into the distance below a red sky. They resembled jagged teeth. Julius shuddered; he did not relish going back to the Grackack realm.

‘Unfortunately, I have not yet contrived a way of aligning the portal to convenient entry points so you will have to make the best of it, Julius. It's early morning and you will be up among the rooftops, so no one will see you.'

Julius approached the vortex. He could feel the vibration when he placed his hand against it. He pulled it back again with a jolt.

‘The trick is to jump straight through, Julius. The vibration will rattle your bones if you linger at the threshold,' said Springheel.

Julius held his face closer. His skin tingled and his teeth chattered as he looked through to see what he would be stepping into. A foot below was a flat roof and as far as he could see there was no one around.

Bloody hellfire, Higgins. Get out of here.

‘It's a rooftop, for goodness sake. There won't be anything of value there,' he said.

‘Well, you can look around can't you? Find a better place for the portal and we'll move the contraption and have another go at it.'

‘Another go?'

‘Now, now, Julius, faint heart never won fair maiden and all that,' said Springheel, standing beside Julius and looking through the portal. ‘We are about to make the find of the millennium. Why, Columbus or…or Magellan would give their right arms to be in your shoes right now—on the threshold of wealth and fame and…and dis—'

‘Disfigurement.'

‘I was going to say
discovery
—to go where no man has ever been, to see things that have never been seen. Think of it.'

Julius glanced at Clements. He was standing in front of the door, pistol in hand.

Springheel stared at Julius, his eyes glistening with greed. Julius held his gaze for as long as he could, while the Springheel Shaker hummed behind him.

You're trapped, Higgins, like a rat in a drainpipe with a terrier at both ends.

‘All right, I'll go,' he said.

‘Splendid. I knew you wouldn't let us down.'

‘But on one condition.'

‘And that is?'

‘I take Shelley's pocketwatch with me.'

Springheel's hand instinctively moved to his waistcoat pocket.

‘What could you possibly want with that, Julius? You'll be in and out again before you know it.'

‘I know…it's just that…it would be a mark of trust between us—it would seal our agreement. You trust me to look after it for you, and I trust you not to leave me on the other side.'

‘The timepiece as insurance,' said Springheel. ‘A strange type of “trust” in my book, Julius.'

‘It's the only type of trust I can give you.'

Springheel's eyes narrowed. Julius stared blankly back, not giving Springheel any expression to read.

‘Very well, take it,' he said, handing the watch to Julius.

Julius breathed again, quietly.
You've got Shelley's pocketwatch, Higgins.

Julius leapt through the vortex into the Grackack London. He landed on the flat, tarred rooftop and skidded along a layer of gravel. Overhead, red clouds stretched across the morning sky. The rope tied around his waist tugged, making him turn around. Clements' faint but rotund form waved to him from the other side.

Julius looked around the rooftop, fear quickening his breath. The air was warm and humid on his skin. There was nothing to see, just a blue door to a stairwell on one side. Its paint was peeling and cracking. The rope was not long enough for Julius to reach it. He ran to the edge of the roof and looked down into the street, three storeys below. It was full of Grackacks and Grackack carriages moving along without horses to draw them.
How long have you been here now, Higgins? Ten, twenty, thirty seconds?
His hands were beginning to shake. What if a gyroflyer flew overhead? What if someone opened the blue door?

There's nothing here, Higgins. It's a blasted roof. What can you steal on a blasted roof ?

Julius crouched low. Windows from other buildings overlooked him. If a Grackack peered out he might be seen.
This is ridiculous, Higgins. Springheel has no idea what he's doing.

Julius was about to sprint back and dive through the vortex when, through the haze, he saw Springheel grappling with the device and Clements shouting something. He felt a tug on the rope.
Something's gone wrong, Higgins
.

Julius moved too quickly. His boot skidded on the gravel and he fell. In a second he was on his feet again.

‘Noooooooo!' he cried as he leapt towards the rapidly contracting vortex. It shrank to the size of a sovereign and vanished. The rope was severed. Julius landed back on the roof again and rolled over.

He picked up the rope-end. There was smoke rising from its blackened stump. The vortex was gone.

Julius sat against the door to the stairwell and rocked back and forth, his arms hugging his knees.

Night fell on the Grackack London. Julius kept his eyes on the spot where the vortex had been, willing it to come back. Willing Springheel to fix the vibration contraption and come to his rescue, and cursing himself for jumping through it in the first place.

Then, he remembered Shelley's pocketwatch. He held it tight but did not dare make it glow. What if a face appeared at one of the windows overlooking the roof.

Julius jolted awake and looked around.
Where am I?
It took only a second or two to remember. The watch was still in his hand. He put it in his pocket, staggered to his feet and untied the rope around his waist. The clouds had parted, revealing a blue sky. In the distance, gyroflyers buzzed like giant insects.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Julius tried the handle of the blue door. It was locked.
Bloody great, Higgins, just marvellous
. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He took out Shelley's pocketwatch again to see what time it was, not that it really mattered.

CHAPTER 16

Saturday 8th July, 1837
10:14 PM

Night fell again. Julius looked over the edge of the roof. It was time to go down into the street. With hands weak and trembling from hunger, Julius tied one end of the rope to a bracket holding a drainpipe. He tugged the rope to test it and looked over the edge to the street below. Despite the almost-full moon, he could not make out anything below.
All well and good, Higgins. If you can't see them, they can't see you.

Julius patted the watch in his pocket for the tenth time, then clutched the rope and lowered himself over the side. The bracket sagged a fraction in the mortar holding it to the wall. Julius's heart stopped. His legs dangled uselessly against the bricks—he could not find a toe hold. He froze with terror.

The bracket slipped again. Dust from the crumbling mortar fell into his eyes. His hands lost their grip and the rope slid through them burning the skin of his palms. He screamed in pain. And he fell. But somehow he managed to grab the drainpipe just as the bracket gave way. The rope, and the bracket, fell past him and clattered on the cobblestones below. Julius clung to the drainpipe, his cheek pressed hard against its sooty surface. His feet found a narrow windowsill.

Think, damn you, Higgins. Think.
Julius took a deep breath and tried, with little success, to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. He pictured the route down to the ground. There were two more windows between him and the pavement. The drainpipe ran all the way down, with three brackets holding it to the wall.

Julius forced a deep breath into his lungs, and then another. His eyes were stinging now and the pain from the rope burn was making it almost impossible to hold onto the drainpipe. But with each breath Julius felt his courage increase slightly.

It's now or never, Higgins. Go.

Julius jumped his feet from the windowsill and gripped them to each side of the drainpipe. Gravity took over and he slid down until he came to the bracket just above the second window. He grabbed it and came to a stop. Strength was seeping out of him faster than he could think. He relaxed his grip and slid down to the next bracket. But all his strength was gone when his hands came to it and he fell.

Time seemed to slow down. He waited for the impact with the cobblestones.
The ground's not that far below; why haven't you hit it yet?
He even had time to be amazed that he was pondering such things while falling to his possible death or serious and painful injury.
Maybe you'll just keep falling forever, Higgins.

Then he hit the ground. Pain shot up from the soles of his feet, into his backside, then his hands, then his head. He rolled over, squirming and writhing. The tears in his eyes helped to wash out the mortar dust.

Julius rolled his aching body into the wall. His head was pounding and his lungs and heart were trying to beat his ribs black and blue. The most difficult thing was to not scream out loud. The street was still empty, but voices came from the house behind him. He pushed himself up and limped and hopped along the pavement and into the first alleyway he came to.

He settled himself down behind some foul-smelling crates to get his breath back. Barking and high-pitched howling cut through the night. His mind conjured images of the animals that might be emitting these cries and he wondered if any of them roamed freely along the city's streets.