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Authors: Deborah White

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BOOK: Wickedness
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There’d been sightings in Brighton, Edinburgh, New York and as far away as Buenos Aires, but Claire knew that he wasn’t in any of those places. He was somewhere close by, she could feel him. Almost smell the cinnamon and flowers, hear his voice saying her name. And he’d know she had taken the spells and the casket.

“I wish he would come,” she whispered to Zacharie, talking to him on her phone, late at
night, in the darkness. “Then, whatever happens, it would be over and done with.”

“Let me come and get the casket. All this waiting is driving me insane. I just need to see you. Shall I come over? I could come now!” Zacharie sounding so
intense
, so desperate.

“All this waiting is driving me mad too. But you mustn’t come. He knows you’re the Guardian. He might not risk coming if you’re here. And I’m sure he’s watching the house. He’ll make a move soon. He will. He’s going to have to. And when he does…”

 

But the police and her dad had started to believe the threat had receded and were beginning to relax. She could feel the tension slipping away. They thought he’d probably left the country, or was in hiding somewhere and wouldn’t risk being caught. She heard her dad on the phone, making plans to get back to work. She heard him talking to Micky. Mum rang from the hospital and said they were letting her out just as soon as they were sure the baby was safe. Where there had been four policemen on duty in and around the house, now there was only one.

But she couldn’t rest. This couldn’t go on. The waiting. Something had to happen. But she didn’t know what.
Margrat’s
rope-walker would have known. She felt sure of it. But when she rang Zacharie he didn’t seem to. He was as much in the dark as she was.

“You
could
ask Jacalyn, Maybe she’ll be able to help.” Though Claire didn’t believe she would. Was relieved when Zacharie said, “She stays out of it. The ring’s mine. I must deal with HIM. And I will.
Je promis
. But you have to trust me. I don’t think you do, Claire… or you would give me the box.”

“Of course I trust you. You saved me from Robert AND you saved me from being crushed by all those tumbling acrobats!”

“Don’t joke, Claire. You must prove that you do…”

“Zacharie… Zac…”

But he’d gone. And when she tried to ring him again, it went straight to voicemail.

* * *

Dad had made pasta with tomato sauce for tea. They were balancing their plates on their knees in
front of the television, watching the local London news and, because it was pretty boring stuff, Claire was only half listening. She was checking her texts obsessively. She’d heard nothing from Zacharie and it was eating her up.

Then her heart leaped. A text from him!
‘Nothing is going to happen while you’re safe in the house. Be at the Jubilee Gardens for the highwire walk at 8 o’clock. We need to flush Robert out into the open so we can deal with him… and bring the box with you. We might need it.’

Maybe Zac was right after all. It was risky, scary, but nothing
would
come of doing nothing. She had to do something. So she texted straight back.
‘I’ll be there.’

“Jeez! Look at this Claire.” Her dad was pointing at the TV screen with his fork. “Isn’t that Zacharie? The one who saved you. He says he’s going to wirewalk the Thames tonight! Bloody hell… maybe
he’s
delusional too. Do you think he’ll make it?”

She sat up so suddenly the pasta nearly slipped off her plate. Her dad reached across and took it from her. “Careful!”

But she wasn’t listening. She was leaning
forward, looking at Zacharie’s face, animated, talking to camera and telling everyone what he was planning to do. “Turn it up! Turn it up!”

“Yeah, OK. Hold your horses!”

And then the presenter asked him the question “Why are you doing this now? Is it for charity or is it just a massive publicity stunt to advertise the circus?”

“Circus?! You never said he was with a circus…”

And this made her catch her breath… Zacharie turned to the camera and said very clearly, “A publicity stunt, of course. Planned for a long time… but
I do it also for Claire. So that she knows I risk my life for her
…”

“Does he
know
,” said Dad, incredulously, “that you’re only 14? If I ever see him again I’ll break every bone in his body. You stay clear of him Claire. Do you understand?”

 

Eight o’clock. Eight o’clock. He wants me to be there in just over an hour. She had to get out of the house. Right this minute. But how was she going to do that? Her dad was still fuming about Zacharie. Couldn’t stop going on and on about him.

But in the event it was easy. She found the single
policeman still on duty and she asked him if he would like a cup of tea! And, not suspecting a thing, he said he would. He followed her into the kitchen where her dad was clearing up the dishes and stood around talking to him about computers and all the problems he’d been having sorting his out. And her dad was distracted and Claire was able to slip away, pick up her backpack, nip out of the French doors in the dining room, through a gap in the hedge and into next door’s garden. She scrabbled over their wall and dropped down into the street beyond. Then she’d run as fast as she could to the tube station. Rummaging in the outer pocket of her backpack she found her travel card and was soon through the barrier and pushing past people down the stairs and onto the platform. She was so agitated and out of breath that people were staring at her. When the sign said that the next train via Waterloo and Charing Cross was going to be in four minutes, she swore loudly. She wanted Waterloo. Four minutes! Four minutes! An eternity. And when it did come, it was crowded and she had to push her way on. There were no seats. She had to stand and straphang, her backpack wedged between her feet. When the tube started to move, she calmed a little. She looked up at
the map and counted the stops. She tried to send Zacharie a text. ‘
Five stops from Waterloo
.’ But the message sending failed. Oh well, only five stops. Not long. It wouldn’t take long. Her eyes scanned the faces around her. It was hot. There was a smell of too many bodies squeezed into too small a space. Then her heart missed a beat. There it was again. The unmistakable smell of cinnamon and flowers. He must have followed her from the house. Been waiting outside. She’d known it. Heat and fear made patches of sweat appear between her shoulder blades and under her arms. Her T-shirt was sticking to her body. He was here, in the carriage. Close by. But she still couldn’t see him. She couldn’t move. There was nowhere to go. At every station more people got on. The train swayed and rattled, hurtling on towards Waterloo. Then there was a squeal and shriek of brakes and the train was slowing down. Last stop now. Which side was the platform? People had turned to face the door opposite her, so she pushed and edged her way closer to those doors. She was first out. Then she ran through the crowds of people on the platform, up the escalator, banging people with her backpack. “Sorry! Sorry!”

Up and out into the open air and she was threading her way fast through the river of people heading towards the Jubilee Gardens. She looked at her watch. Eight o’clock. Was she too late? She looked back anxiously over her shoulder, knowing he was following her. She twisted the ring round and round on her finger…
Please let me get there before he catches me

Now she was in the gardens and, looking up, she could see the wire, tensioned between two cranes, one on either side of the river. People had stopped and were pointing. Claire looked up. She saw someone dressed in white, balancing on the wire, walking towards her, 45 metres above the Thames. Her hand felt for the ring again. She focused her thoughts.

Then, making her start, a text appeared on her phone. Zacharie. Not him up on the wire then… even he wasn’t mad enough to be texting from up there, was he? ‘
Allez vite! You must climb up as quick as you can, before Jacalyn gets all the way across.

What!? Climb up? And why did she have to get there before Jacalyn?
There was no sense in it. Much safer to be on the ground. She was going to text
‘No way!’

But then she could feel Robert closing in behind
her. The ring was tight and hot. She took some deep breaths. Tried to still the panic rising up inside her. She was going to have to do what Zac asked. She had to trust that he knew what he was doing… because sure as hell, she didn’t. So she pushed on through the crowds until she was at the base of the crane. A circle of crash barriers kept people back and security guards were stationed inside. She looked up again. Jacalyn was halfway across. Well Zacharie had been right so far. Robert HAD followed her. He must believe she had the casket and the scrolls in her backpack and was going to give them to Zacharie… or else why would she be here? He didn’t know that Zac already had the scrolls. And Claire hoped that Robert’s desperation to recover the spells would blind him to the fact she was leading him into danger. That if he climbed up the crane after her, he would fall into whatever trap Zac had set. Claire knew Robert had to die or she would never be free of him. But she didn’t know yet how that would happen. She could see a struggle, but not who’s hand would push him to his death.

As the wind off the river swirled and eddied about the crane, there it was again, the barest
suspicion of a smell. Cinnamon and flowers. She started to really panic now and was afraid she wouldn’t be able control it. Jacalyn still had a long way to go, but Claire had to be up there before she finished. She didn’t know why that was so important, but Zacharie said she must be.
“He knows what he’s doing. He knows what he’s doing.”
She repeated it over and over like a good luck mantra as she pushed forward, watching the security guards, trying to judge where they would move to next, where they would be looking. Then, as the one nearest to her was distracted by a small boy climbing over the barrier, she slipped through the bars and ran round to the base of the crane, only pausing to make sure her arms were threaded through both the straps of her backpack. Then she was hoisting herself up and onto the first rung of the metal ladder that ran up, 45 metres, to where the crane’s arm swung out over the river. She started to climb, very quickly at first, expecting any minute that she’d be spotted and a cry would go up and she’d be brought down. But everyone’s eyes seemed to be fixed on the wire-walker. A wind had started to blow and she could see Jacalyn was struggling to balance against the power of it, though the long pole she carried was still keeping her steady.

Up and up Claire climbed. She was having to force her legs to keep moving and the muscles in her arms were screaming with the effort of pulling her body up. And the wind as she climbed higher was catching on her backpack and buffeting her about. She was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to make it. That she would be stuck, clinging to the ladder, unable to move, until her grip on the ladder failed and she fell into the sea of people below. What on earth had possessed her? Why was it she hadn’t stayed on the ground and made Zacharie come to her? She knew why. She looked down. A small black shape was climbing inexorably up towards her. Robert wouldn’t reach her before she got to the top, would he? He was tired and his powers must be ebbing away, because he no longer had the spells that would renew them. But her arms and legs, as she pushed herself to climb on up, were starting to tremble. They were weakening with the effort, too. The ring on her finger was so tight and hot she could hardly bear it. 20 more rungs up on the ladder and Robert was starting to close the gap.

Claire was nearly at the top. Only ten more rungs to go, though Robert was so close now, she
swore she could feel the heat of his body, hear the rasping of his breath above the wind. But Zacharie was there waiting for her, looking down, and holding out his hand, ready to help her with the last few steps. He pulled her to safety. As he straightened up, sweat glistening on his forehead and darkening his hair, they were face to face and she saw his eyes widen and a smile of relief flicker across his face. “You did it!”

There was a groan and a thud behind her and she turned to see Robert’s hand grasping the top rung of the ladder, the diamond in the ring on his finger catching the light.

“Claire, get behind me!” And then Zacharie leaped forward and stamped down hard, on Robert’s hand. It was ruthless. Efficient. Shocking. There was a cracking sound and a scream of rage and pain.

“See? I will do anything to keep you safe.” Zacharie was looking back at her, with an expression of such utter determination on his face, he was barely recognisable. His beautiful mouth was twisted and his eyes were dark glittering slits. But she had to trust him. He’d saved her from Robert before. And he
was
the rope-walker, wasn’t he?


Now
you must give me the box. Give it to me. Then I will have
all
the spells.” Claire could see that he had Robert’s black bag slung over his shoulder. “Quick, before he reaches you.”

“Oh Claire.” Robert, ashen-faced, had pulled himself up at last onto the platform and was standing looking at her. His dark hair, threaded with grey now, and his black jacket billowing out in the wind. Then he looked across at Zacharie and Claire could see that he’d registered the black leather bag.
His
bag.

Claire sensed Zacharie moving in close behind her. She reached back for his hand. Felt his strong, hard fingers close around hers and said, “Zacharie is the guardian. He’ll help me just as Christophe helped Margrat. But this time
you
will die!”

The ghost of a smile lit up Robert’s face, “Zacharie won’t help you.
He
only wants to help himself. Don’t you Zacharie? I see he has
my
spells already and now he wants the casket. He knows how valuable the spells and casket are to me… and he knows that I have money.”

“Don’t listen to him Claire.” Zacharie’s fingers were crushing hers tight. His head bent close to hers. She could feel his hot breath whispering in her ear.

“Well perhaps he wouldn’t sell them. But when was it that you first thought of taking the spells for yourself, Zacharie? Of opening the casket if you could? When you came to my house and saved Claire?”

BOOK: Wickedness
12.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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