The Diamond Thief (19 page)

Twenty One

The Last Tide

Rémy stared at Thaddeus across the chasm.

“You are an idiot,” she shouted at him. “An idiot. Do you know that?”

“Are you going to let me across?”

She hesitated for another moment. The water roared behind them, gushing closer with each second, but she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from his. Rémy nodded, reluctantly.

“All right,” said Thaddeus, undoing the knotted rope. “Here’s what I’m going to do –”

There was another, deeper roar from behind them. Rémy looked over Thaddeus’ head, through the two open doors in Abernathy’s chamber and out the other side to the cavern beyond. In the gap she could see the eerie blue light of the submarines as they began to move, buoyed up by the water.

“Desai,” she shouted, over the din. “Go. Go!”

Desai didn’t need telling twice. He grabbed J by the hand, still holding the other boy in his free arm. J fought him, desperate to stay with Thaddeus, but Desai dragged him away, out of sight, into Abernathy’s escape chamber.

“Your last chance, Thaddeus,” Rémy said. “You can still go with them.”

Thaddeus ignored her, tying the rope around his waist. He sat down on the edge of the broken steps, his feet dangling over the abyss. Rémy saw him take a deep breath as her own heart hammered in her chest. If the rope was to break, he would surely plunge to a stony death. For a moment Rémy thought he’d changed his mind. But then he looked up at her and, with a warm smile, let himself drop.

Rémy clenched her fists as he plummeted, praying for the rope to hold as it jerked to the end of its reach with his weight. The rope was fine, but the destroyed wooden steps creaked dangerously and for a second, as Thaddeus slammed hard against the near wall of the chasm, she thought it was going to give. She leapt forward, throwing herself flat against the edge of the chasm and grabbing the rope with both hands.

“Climb!” she shouted as she dragged on the rope, trying to hold his weight. “Thaddeus, for God’s sake, climb! I can’t – I can’t hold you…”

She felt the rope moving, but couldn’t see him. Winding it around her hands, Rémy rolled backwards, pulling with all her might. The rope rasped against the chasm’s jagged edge, threatening to snap at any minute. Rémy felt her arms being pulled from their sockets, every muscle straining against Thaddeus’ weight.

And then, there he was. One hand appeared, and then another, as Thaddeus clawed his way over the top of the chasm to safety. Rémy didn’t let go of the rope, still pulling with all her might until he was on level ground. They both collapsed, sprawling in the dirt, weak with exhaustion.

Rémy was the first to recover, getting to her knees, still breathing hard. “Are you all right?”

Thaddeus tried to move. “Yes… yes, I think so…”

She grabbed his hand, getting to her feet as she tried to haul him up. “Then hurry!”

“Wait,” he said, trying to pull her closer, “Rémy – wait –”

“There’s no time!” she cried. “Look!”

She pointed across the chasm and through Abernathy’s chamber. Beyond, the water had become a rippling, surging wall.

They ran to the door, hands still entwined. Thaddeus fell against it, his shoulder smashing into the wood like a battering ram. The door flew open.

Inside was a room far smaller than Rémy had expected. It was circular like Abernathy’s chamber, but hardly even half the size. The walls were bare earth and rock, and most of the space in the room was taken up by a spherical structure. It looked like a cage, but more ornate – curved filigree arms of metal spindling together like fist-sized bubbles intersecting over a tanner’s bucket. These bubbles became smaller and more entangled as they reached towards the room’s floor and ceiling, until the pattern was so dense that nothing could pass into the spaces between, not even the glass that married each metal arm together. The sphere narrowed into tubes which disappeared into passageways in the floor and rounded roof. Blue sparks akin to the light inside Abernathy’s submarines flowed along each spun metal arm, pulsing like the beat of a straining heart. And in the centre of the sphere, on a mechanical plinth, was the Darya-ye Noor, its surfaces shimmering in the bright light.

Except that it wasn’t alone.

“Is that – is that another diamond?”

Rémy nodded silently at Thaddeus’ question. There, beside the unmistakably pink beauty of the Ocean of Light was another diamond, equally as stunning.

* * *

“There must be a way to break the glass,” Thaddeus said, looking around frantically. Rémy didn’t answer, and when he looked back, she was still staring, transfixed, at the jewels within their glass cage. “Rémy!”

She jumped, looking up at him, and then around the room. “I – there’s nothing in here! There’s nothing to use!”

“Stand back,” Thaddeus told her.

He moved to one of the largest glass panels, still only as big as his hand, and braced his elbow against it. Then, taking a deep breath, Thaddeus punched his hand forward sharply before bringing his bent elbow back against the glass. The tiny window splintered, shattering as the pieces rained down inside the sphere.

Rémy was beside him in an instant as Thaddeus tried to fit his hand through the gap, but it was no good – he cut and bloodied his knuckle but could not get his hand inside.

“Move!” said Rémy. “Let me –”

A huge noise reverberated behind them. Thaddeus turned to see a cascade of water smashing through Abernathy’s chamber with such force that a raging torrent flowed over the mouth of the cavern and slewed straight into the power chamber. The icy wave crashed against them, slamming them both against the sphere and almost knocking them off their feet.

Thaddeus grabbed Rémy by the arm, holding on tight as the water was sucked back out again and down into the chasm outside. He looked over his shoulder to see another wave coming at them, brown and murky and even bigger than the last. He pushed Rémy up the sphere.

“Get as high as you can!” he shouted, over the roar of water echoing around them. “There’s another –”

The second wave hit them even harder than the first, but Thaddeus held onto the metal and managed to drag himself up behind Rémy’s nimble form. They straddled the sphere, watching as the water was sucked back out of the room.

“I have to get the diamond,” she shouted, amid the maelstrom. “I have to go back down.”

“You can’t,” Thaddeus shouted back, “the next wave will be even bigger!”

“I only need a moment,” she said, already clambering towards the smashed glass.

He reached out, trying to catch her wrist, but she was too quick for him. “Don’t,” he shouted, beginning to follow her. “Rémy, don’t –”

He saw her fingers touch the Ocean of Light as the third wave hit with even more force than those that had come before. Rémy disappeared beneath a torrent of brown silt, and Thaddeus had to hold on to stop himself being pulled from the sphere.

“Rémy,” he shouted. “Rémy…”

The water receded and, for a moment, he thought she had been taken with it. Instead, she appeared, fingers still wrapped around the stone, coughing up the fetid water. She wrenched the diamond free of the plinth’s mechanical grip and pulled it out, holding it aloft triumphantly.

A new noise echoed around them, a dying, fading noise, like the wind dropping after a violent night. The blue sparks that had flowed through the sphere sputtered and slowed and, a moment later, stopped altogether.

“You’ve done it!” Thaddeus shouted.

“Did you ever doubt me, little policeman?” Rémy shouted back.

He stared at her, half circus imp and half drowned rat. “Never,” he said. “I never did.”

“Catch,” she shouted, tossing the Ocean in an elegant arc.

Thaddeus caught the diamond, two-handed, putting it into his pocket and reaching down to hold out a hand. “Come on,” he said. “There’ll be another wave. Get up here!”

But Rémy did not take his hand. She was already reaching back through the narrow gap of broken glass, trying to reach the second diamond.

“Leave it!” Thaddeus told her, glancing out of the door. He could see another wave building, bigger than all the others. “Rémy, just leave it there!”

She shook her head, her fingers stretching towards the stone.

“Rémy!”

She wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t even sure if she could hear him, so intent was she on the diamond that was almost within her reach. Thaddeus scrambled back down the sphere, but before he could touch even her shoulder, a new torrent of water crashed over them both.

He tried to grab her, but the water tore them apart instantly. It blinded him, filling his lungs as he clung to the sphere. He felt more glass splintering under him as the structure began to disintegrate. He tried to turn towards Rémy, his lungs burning for air, but the force of the water was too great to resist.

And then he felt it sucking at him. The wave rushed back out of the power chamber, hissing like a giant snake. It slopped past Thaddeus’ ears, the echo of the room returning like a deafening gurgle. He reached one hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes.

“Rémy,” he croaked, when he could breathe. “Rémy…”

But she was gone, sucked into the chasm by the Black Ditch. It was as if she’d never even been there at all.

Twenty Two

Mudlark’s Treasure

Rémy knew she was going to die the moment her fingers wrapped around the unexpected stone.

It was ironic, really. One moment, she had a flash of inspiration – the knowledge that perhaps this was the answer to all her problems – and the next, she was being dragged under the water, the breath beaten out of her by a turbulent tide.

She tried to see Thaddeus, but when she could finally open her eyes against the torrent, Rémy realized that she wasn’t even in the power chamber any more. Instead, the water had carried her with it, out of the door, over the venomous edge of the chasm, down among the unforgiving rocks. She was hurled against the stones as one wave met another, crashing together with enough force to pulverize the remaining breath in her lungs, but not to make her let go of the diamond.

The water rushed along the chasm, unstopping, unstoppable, and with every fraction of a second Rémy’s life faded out of her. She felt her opal tugging at her neck, the gem floating upwards, free of her body, tethered only by the gold chain around her throat.

This is it
, she thought absently.
I wonder what comes next? I wonder if Maman and Papa will be there to meet me? I wonder what they will look like –

She hit something new, smoother – not rock. The water spun her over, turning her towards this new object, and she realized it was made of glass. A glass dome, smooth, large, and as she blinked, inside Rémy saw a face. It was fixed in a scream as Abernathy’s great submarine sank towards the bottom of the chasm, as dead and powerless as granite.

Rémy smiled, relief flooding through the blackness engulfing her mind. They really had succeeded. They really had stopped Abernathy’s diabolical plan.

She sank like a stone thrown into a deep, deep pool, the blackness swallowing her whole.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

The first time Rémy woke, she thought she was dead. Then a voice seemed to echo deep in her head.

Poor girl
, it said, now seeming very far away – like whisper that almost wasn’t there at all.

Was she dead?

Poor girl.

Poor girl…

Then Rémy felt something. Air on her face. She tried to breathe. She could. She gasped.

Suddenly, there was noise. It rushed into her mind, drowning her senses. The wind, and something else. Something cracking sharply against something else, chink-chink-chink.

Not dead
, said the voice, like a whisper, below the noise.

Rémy tried to open her eyes, but the light was too bright. She screwed them shut.

Something touched her arm.

Tide coming
, said the voice.
Tide coming, got to move…

The light outside her eyelids grew dimmer. She opened her eyes into the shadow of a person. It was an old man, leaning over her. His face was lined and twisted. He wore a hooded cloak, pulled up over his bald and ailing head. He jumped back as she moved.

“W-what?” she managed. “W-what did you say?”

He shook his head and remained at a distance, staring at her. Rémy blinked into the sooty sunlight. She was staring at a grey sky studded with heavy clouds. She turned her head, and grit pressed itself into her ear. Sand. She was lying on sand. Water was lapping, gently, at her feet.

I know this place
, she thought.
I have been here before…

She was lying on the Thames river shore. There were boats moored against the edges of the bank built out in the middle of the dirty water. They were bobbing, the wind moving their mid-sails against their dormant masts.

Rémy tried to move but a great weariness engulfed her. She curled up on her side instead right there on the sand, coughing as her lungs struggled with the effort of taking in air.

Tide
, said the old man’s voice again, except that it didn’t sound like a voice, because it came to her from somewhere deeper than her ears. Like an idea, or… or a thought. She turned her head again, squinting up at him. He had taken hold of her arm and was trying to pull her up.

Tide – tide
.

“Louder,” she rasped. “Say it – louder.”

He shook his head and pointed at his mouth. For the first time, Rémy noticed that it was twisted and misshapen, incapable of forming words.

She didn’t know how he seemed to be speaking to her when he obviously couldn’t, but she struggled to her feet, leaning on him heavily.

“Home,” she said, her voice fading away as the tiredness sucked her down into darkness once again. “C-circus. Claudette. Yes?”

The old man nodded, but said nothing. They made it up the rickety steps to the roadside before Rémy let the blackness take her once more, sinking to her knees and then the ground, and then into oblivion again.

* * *

The second time Rémy woke, it was into a blur of noise and movement and musty cloth. There was shouting, the sound of horses’ hooves. Rain was falling on her face but not on the rest of her, as if she was lying face up on a moving piece of earth, buried in blankets. She tried to lift her shoulders, but someone pushed her back down. She passed out again.

* * *

The final time Rémy woke, the rain had gone and she heard a voice. It was talking quietly at some distance. She recognised it.

“C-Claud… Claudette?” she whispered.

There was a gasp and the sound of quick movement. Into Rémy’s clouded vision stepped a shadow. Rémy blinked, but the lights were dim and her eyesight was blurred. She felt a soft hand stroke her forehead. She smelled the perfume that Claudette insisted on buying, even when she had no bread to eat.

“Praise be,” Claudette murmured. “Oh, my Little Bird, praise be, praise be. I was not sure you would awaken at all. No – don’t try to move…”

But Rémy wanted to sit. With Claudette’s help she lifted herself up and leaned against the wooden wall. She was in Am
é
lie’s bunk in Claudette’s caravan. She was home. She reached out to her friend and Claudette wrapped warm arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

“You have been on a great adventure, Little Bird, I think. Have you not?”

Rémy nodded, her eyes focusing enough to see Am
é
lie, regarding her seriously from the little table across the narrow room. In front of the child was spread a picture book – the alphabet. Claudette had been giving her a lesson.

“What is the time?” she asked.

“Just beyond eight of the clock,” Claudette told her, pulling away slightly to brush the hair from Rémy’s face.

Rémy frowned. “I can’t hear anything.”

Claudette looked a little alarmed. “You don’t hear me speak?”

“No… no – I mean, the circus? Why can I not hear noise from the big top?”

Her friend smiled, shifting slightly to settle them together more comfortably. “Little Rémy, always thinking about work. There is no circus tonight. Nor was there last night, nor the night before.”

“What – what do you mean? What about Gustave? He never stops the circus, he never –”

“Ssh,” said Claudette. “There is no Gustave. Not anymore. The police came and took him away. We are free, little one. I have been running the circus since he went, but when you were returned to us, almost dead… well, I had more important things to worry about, yes? You have been asleep for a long, long time. So we… are having a holiday. The whole company needs it.”

Rémy blinked, trying to take all of this in. No Gustave? No Gustave ever again? “But… the police?” she asked.

Claudette pushed her back, gently, against the pillows. “Do not concern yourself, Rémy. Not now. You need to get strong again, to rest. There is some soup left from dinner, I will heat it for you.”

Rémy held on to her arm, before she could move away. “Wait,” she said. “Wait – the policeman. The policeman who came to take Gustave. Was it – was it Thaddeus? Was it Thaddeus Rec?”

Claudette frowned. “Thaddeus?”

Rémy swallowed, a painful lump in her throat. “The little policeman. The one that came the night I had to flee. Was it him, Claudette? Have you seen him?”

The older woman shook her head. “No. He has not been here at all, Little Bird. Not since that night. There was a great flood, not far from here. The police have been far too busy to come looking for you. Do not worry. You need to rest.”

Rémy felt tears fill her eyes. She sank back and turned her head away, because looking at her friend was too much. Then she remembered the diamond. The one she had been reaching for as the water whirled her away.

“My jacket,” she mumbled. “The jacket I was wearing. Did you find it? Was there – was there anything…”

“Ah,” said Claudette. “I believe you may be wondering about this, yes?”

Rémy turned back to see her friend holding up the gemstone in her palm. Claudette had polished it and it shone like a beautiful beacon in the dim room.

“When you are better,
ma cherie
,” said Claudette as she put down the jewel and opened the caravan’s door, “I think you may have a very big story to tell. I will be back with food.”

She left, closing the door softly behind her. Am
é
lie, ever the silent child, got up from her chair and crossed the room, climbing on to the bunk and curling up. Rémy pulled her close and buried her face in the girl’s mass of curly hair.

“Did you miss me, little one?”

Am
é
lie nodded.

Mummy sad without you. Am
é
lie sad without you.

Rémy raised her head. Am
é
lie had never said a word in her entire life.

“Did you – did you speak, Am
é
lie? Has mummy taught you how?”

The child shook her head, blue eyes blinking at Rémy curiously.

No. I don’t. Can’t.

Rémy stared at her for a moment. And then a thought sped into her mind, so fast that it made her heart thump. She fumbled at her throat, beneath her bedshirt, until she felt the gold chain that was always there. Pulling it out, Rémy peered at the opal. Its colours seemed brighter somehow and it had cracked, a furrow lying through its centre as surely as if someone had cleaved it with an axe. She remembered what Desai had asked her, what seemed like a lifetime ago.
Have you ever been able to hear the thoughts of others? In your head?
And hadn’t he said it might have been sleeping? What could wake a stone? Rémy turned cold, a shiver working its way down her spine. She hid the opal under her bedshirt, determined not to think about it. It was all too strange to comprehend.

* * *

A few days later, just as the circus was packing up, Rémy had a visitor. There was a knock on the caravan door as Rémy was lying in bed, playing draughts with Am
é
lie on a makeshift board. Claudette opened the door and there was Desai, his head almost brushing the ceiling. Behind him, dressed more cleanly than she had ever seen him, was J.

Rémy leapt out of bed and flung her arms around them both, far more quickly than was wise given her still-feeble condition.

“
Mon Dieu!
” she said, as Desai helped her back to bed. “How did you know I was here? I was going to come looking for you, but I have been so tired… I was planning, when I was better…”

Desai smiled his gentle smile and patted her on the shoulder. “That is why we came to you, my dear girl. It was J who found you.”

“Took me a while, it did,” J told her. “But I reckoned there was a good chance you weren’t dead. Not our Rémy Brunel, I said. She’s too brave to die, I said. So I went ‘round and about, to see if anyone ‘ad ‘eard anyfing, like.”

“I – I washed up on the riverbank,” Rémy said. “There – there was an old man.”

J bobbed his head. “Aye – the mute Mudlark. Tha’s right. ‘E told me where you were. Well, I say told. ‘E scratched it down, see. In the sand. ‘Home,’ it said. ‘Circus.’ And tha’s when I knew it was you. It ain’t ’alf good to see you, Rémy.”

Rémy returned his grin, though hers was overlaid with sadness. Seeing J reminded her of Thaddeus and she didn’t want to think about the watery death he must have suffered, waiting for wave after wave until that tiny cave was full.

“What are people saying, Desai?” she asked instead, when she knew she could speak without tears. “About what happened? Claudette said there was a flood…”

“People assume that there was a storm out at sea,” he told her, “and that it caused the Thames to be higher than usual and break its banks. It happens.”

Remy nodded, twisting her fingers together. “And Abernathy? His men? What happened to them all? When I was in the chasm, I saw… I saw one of the submarines, lying dead. But what about the rest?”

Desai and J glanced at each other. “We have been looking,” he said, “for any trace of the madman and his men. But there is no sign that any of his people or their contraptions escaped. I think – I think we must be grateful for that.”

There was a moment of silence as they all thought about Abernathy’s vast army, lost beneath the streets of London.

“I had a – a reason for wanting to see you again, Desai,” Rémy said after a moment. “Besides wanting to know if you were all right, I mean.”

“Oh?”

Rémy fumbled beneath her pillow and pulled out the diamond, wrapped in an old rag. J gasped as she held it up. “It was with the Darya-ye Noor. In Abernathy’s power chamber.”

Desai reached out and took it with a frown, turning it over in his palm as the diamond flashed in the light.

“It is a valuable one,” Rémy said quietly. “I can tell, just by looking at it. There are no flaws in it. It is cut in the old style, so it must be ancient.”

The Indian looked up at her. “You are right on all counts, Rémy Brunel, oh knower of gems. But there is something else. Something you may not know.”

Rémy looked away. “I think I do. It’s the stone, isn’t it? It’s the stone my parents stole. The one they were cursed for. Abernathy had it all along; it just wasn’t powerful enough for his plan. Am I – am I right?”