Secret Breakers: The Power of Three (28 page)
Read Secret Breakers: The Power of Three Online
Authors: H. L. Dennis
‘Well, that’s all pretty wonderful,’ muttered Hunter. ‘And I am impressed, honestly I am. But not to be too mean about the whole clue-solving thing but I think there’s something you’ve missed.’ He waited, then opened his hands out as if showing them empty. ‘We haven’t got a key.’
‘Oh yes we do.’
Hunter lowered his hands to see who’d spoken. ‘We do?’
‘Yes. We do.’ It was Friedman and his voice trembled as he spoke, lifting his hands to his neck to release the small golden chain that hung around it.
All eyes in the room were on him as he passed the key to Brodie.
‘But where? How? When?’ It was difficult to be sure who was asking what.
‘My mother sent Friedman the key,’ Brodie said quietly. ‘My granddad said she was on to something and that something took her to Belgium. She must’ve got the key from Van der Essen’s things.’
‘And she sent the key to you?’ Tusia said, her eyes fixed firmly on the man in the centre of the room.
He said nothing.
Brodie held the key in one hand and the box in the other. She moved the key gently towards the lock. ‘Are you ready?’
No one in the room answered.
Somehow it seemed fitting the discovery was made in the Music Room. Brodie, as she thought about that moment, was particularly pleased about that.
The key turned slowly in the lock under the pressure of her hand. There was the gentle sound of clicking. A release of air as if the box was exhaling after having held its breath for a very long time. The base of the box lifted. The remains of ash fluttered away like morning mist. There was a secret compartment. A place hidden inside. And in the compartment was a small metal structure with a tiny handle. There was an opening at one end – a slit like a letterbox – and at the other end it was possible to see lines of metal almost like the keys of a miniature piano.
‘It’s a music box,’ said Fabyan.
‘But there’s no sound,’ said Tusia.
‘Because it needs music.’
Brodie didn’t understand.
‘It works if you feed paper into the opening,’ Fabyan continued. ‘I’ve seen these things before. Paid a fortune for a few in my time. Paper is fed inside and the workings play the tune.’
‘But how do they know what to play?’ asked Hunter.
‘There’s holes,’ said Fabyan. ‘Punched into the paper like a code. And the metal keys in the workings play a note every time there’s a hole. The holes make the music.’
Brodie could hardly breathe. ‘Like the holes on our invitations to Veritas,’ she said. ‘The holes let the light in and told us what to do.’
She turned to look at Friedman.
They both turned to look at Smithies.
Smithies’ face was flushed with colour. ‘Alex,’ he said quietly. ‘She knew. She’d found the pieces of the secret and she knew one day we’d reunite them.’
‘Erm, any chance you’ll tell us what’s going on?’ Hunter said. ‘You lost me with the paper and the holes and the music.’
‘Not lost,’ Smithies said softly. ‘Found.’ He took his wallet from his pocket and pulled out the long thin strip of paper he’d carried since the death of his best friend. ‘Brodie,’ he said, passing the paper to her. ‘Make the phoenix sing.’
Brodie fed the paper through the slot in the workings. She turned the handle and she waited. Then, in the silence of the night, a gentle tune began to play. Soft and stirring, the sound of notes rising and falling.
‘It’s Elgar,’ Mr Bray said gently.
Tusia looked confused.
‘The tune. It was written by Elgar.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m totally sure.’
‘And so that’s the solution to the Firebird Code?’ asked Brodie. ‘Notes of a melody?’
Smithies smiled. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘It is?’ said Hunter, turning the statement into a question. ‘Because I don’t get it.’
Ingham grinned. ‘Elgar, my young man, was a master composer.’
‘OK. Still not getting it.’
‘And more than that. He was
a lover of codes
.’
‘He was?’
‘He was. Have you never heard of the
Enigma Variations
, a whole series of compositions Elgar wrote to include codes?’
‘Wasn’t really part of the Key Stage Two curriculum,’ offered Hunter. ‘We were too busy doing songs about recycling and looking after your teeth.’
Smithies frowned. ‘Well, then I think we’ve some learning to do.’ He ran his fingers along his chin. ‘I think we finally have our answer,’ he said with more than a hint of excitement in his voice. ‘If we’re going to get our copy of the code-book to read the codes of MS 408, then Van der Essen wants us to look at the work of the composer Elgar. I think we can manage that.’
‘You do?’ asked Hunter, his eyes twitching rather noticeably with nerves. ‘Have you heard my singing? Music’s not really my thing. Numbers though. I can do numbers. Will there be any numbers in this one, do you think?’
Brodie didn’t hear Smithies’ answer. She was turning the handle once again and letting the music of the box fill the room. A sense of expectation rose in her. A tune flew free as if the phoenix was rising at last from the flames and sharing with the world her song. The firebird was singing.
She had her granddad here, Smithies, Miss Tandari and Ingham and all their knowledge about codes. She’d got Friedman, who’d known her mother, and Fabyan, who’d helped see off the Director. And she’d got two of the most annoying but wonderful friends she could ever hope for.
And they’d got a new code to help them decipher MS 408.
Whatever Elgar had hidden in his writings, she knew they’d find it. Because that was what they were here to do.
They’d made a commitment. To each other and to the code.
And one day soon they were going to find out what the greatest unread code in the world was all about.
Thank you for reading
The Power of Three
and sharing in its secrets. I’d like to thank here all the people that encouraged me as I wrote it!
So thank you to:
Ann Wright; Barbara Large; all my writing friends from MUSE; all the authors from CWISL and Erica Richardson and the late Rosemary Ingham.
All my friends at Ocklynge School, Eastbourne; colleagues and pupils (especially past and present classes 5BD and 6BD and members of E Plus!); all the team at SLAMS; ‘Bumper Book Shop’ Eastbourne; ‘Stagecoach’, ‘Rattonians’ and the ‘Ratty Mums’; David Cane-Hardy, Pete Gurr and Barney Pout; Matt Keogh, Daniel Trott and all the ‘early draft readers’!
All the Evason family … you’re wonderful! Andrew and Jane Norriss … I really appreciate all your help and friendship. John Smithies, John Werner, Tusia Werner, Ron Guildford, Malcolm Barton, Richard Crane and Yvonne Lever – you were amazing teachers! Thank you!
The incredible team at Hodder Children’s Books and Beverley Birch, my fantastic editor.
And my wonderful family – David, Andy and Rocky for your enthusiasm; Mum for teaching me to love stories and for being my first
Secret Breakers
reader and Dad for all your support. My fabulous husband Steve, for all your patience and encouragement. And Meggie my wonderful daughter, logbook writer and friend … for inspiring me every day. It was you who taught this firebird how to fly!
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