The Jade Boy Page 26

  The children were silent for a moment then Jem spoke decisively.

  “We have to get out of here before this becomes our tomb too. Tolly, can you lead us back?”

  Tolly nodded and squared his shoulders. “Give me the candle Ann. I will get us out.”

  When the children and the monkey finally emerged from the tunnels beneath St Paul’s on to the banks of the Thames, the London they had known was gone.

  Jem cleared his throat – the air was hot and dusty. “How long were we down there?”

  “I don’t know, but at least the fire has passed,” said Ann softly, trying to make some sense of the landscape around them.

  They had been underground for so long that the fire was indeed over, but it had scorched the city they knew from the face of the earth. Ash fell like rain from the sky as they clambered up the riverbank. They were met by the sight of hundreds of grey-faced people, picking through the cinders and climbing over the smouldering ruins.

  “Do you feel that?” whispered Tolly as they stared in horror at the devastation. He prodded the ground with his bare foot. “The earth itself is still hot.”

  The children turned about slowly trying to get their bearings. It was as if they could see from one end of the city to the other across jumbled piles of smoking rubble. St Paul’s Cathedral towered above the wreckage, but it was blackened, roofless and utterly ravaged.

  Jem looked down to the water. He was surprised to see hundreds of small boats moving purposefully up and down. He could even hear water traders calling out their wares.

  A scruffy man carrying a large leather pouch popped up from behind a ragged wall beside them.

  “Read it here, young sirs and little lady. The true story of the Great Fire of London. A pamphlet for a penny – and that’s money well spent.”

  “The true story of the fire, you say?” asked Ann.

  The man nodded eagerly.

  “Well, if I had a penny I would most certainly buy it,” she grinned.

  Tolly and Jem laughed as the man scowled and stumbled away.

  Jem looked west to the palace at Whitehall. It was intact. He whispered a brief prayer for his mother – and his father – and then he kicked angrily at the hot earth.

  “So much for your ancient prophecy, Ann! We failed miserably. London is a smoking ruin.”

  “Perhaps that isn’t true,” said Tolly, scrambling onto a pile of blackened bricks. “Look at the river down there. It’s business as usual. Even the pamphlet writers are hard at work. Life will go on, Jem.”

  He smiled down at his friends.

  Ann placed Cazalon’s staff on the ground and took Jem’s hand. She led him up to Tolly’s vantage point where she caught hold of Tolly’s hand too.

  The three of them stood side by side, looking out over the busy river.

  “In one very important respect the prophecy did come true,” she said solemnly.

  “The boy of jade, the black traveller and the moon child did bind the dark god. And that was probably the most important thing of all.”

  She shuddered. “Just imagine what Cazalon would have done if he had become a man-god.”

  They were silent for a moment as they looked down on the busy river.

  “Is he really dead?” asked Jem.

  Tolly nodded uncertainly. “He must be. No one could survive that. For all his three thousand years, Cazalon was just a man.”

  “What did you say to him, at the end there, Tolly?” Ann’s green eyes were alight with curiosity.

  Tolly shrugged. “Nothing important.”

  Cleo wriggled and chirruped softly in the crook of Tolly’s arm. He grinned and lowered her gently to the ground. The little monkey looked up, twitched her tail, wrinkled her nose and chattered indignantly.

  “And it wasn’t just us who defeated him, was it?” laughed Jem. “Cleo appeared in the prophecy too, remember. She was the ink blot with a tail.”

  Epilogue

  On a dusty road just beyond the gates to the smoking city ruins an elegant carriage drawn by four grey horses juddered to a halt.

  A graceful hand, encased in an elaborately embroidered lavender glove extended from the window. Seconds later a huge white bird circled from the sky and landed on the outstretched arm. It pecked at the expensive leather of the glove.

  The woman wearing the glove leaned from the interior of the coach. One eye was covered by a jewelled eyepatch. Her other eye was golden and glinted in the light as she caught something that dropped from the bird’s dribbling beak.

  A silver crescent moon studded with sparkling gem stones.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are so many people I’d like to thank for their encouragement and support throughout the writing of The Jade Boy that I could easily fill another three chapters… I won’t – I’ll try to keep this brief, although that will be hard for me!

  Firstly, I’d like to thank my family – my long-suffering husband Stephen and my dad, John Cain. I’d especially like to mention my late mum, Sheila, whose passion for history – and particularly the gory details – ignited my own fascination from a very early age. There’s a Cain family story about the time I had my tonsils removed at the age of four and ‘entertained’ the inmates on my hospital ward with a spirited reenactment of the beheading of Mary Queen of Scots, complete with her little dog (a stand-in teddy bear) hidden under her skirts. When my parents came in to see me the next day, the matron took them to one side and told them crossly that I’d given several small patients nightmares. Thanks, Mum!

  Secondly, I’d like to thank my friends, who have been almost as amazed and excited as me at the prospect of The Jade Boy’s publication. I’d particularly like to thank the Wells family and my ‘nodson’ Henry Wells, who was the first person to be frightened by Count Cazalon. Henry read the initial version of The Jade Boy and made some very clever comments.

  Thirdly, I am enormously grateful (and slightly in awe of) the team at Templar Towers, who have been so fantastic to work with. I must mention lovely commissioning editor Helen Boyle, who fished me out of the slush pile, my brilliant editor Emma Goldhawk, whose forensic eye for detail made Jem really shine, and designer Will Steele for knowing exactly what I saw.

  Will also commissioned the amazing cover by award-winning artist Levi Pinfold. When I first saw his stunning artwork, I couldn’t believe how beautifully sinister and right it was!

  My mum’s favourite period in history was the Tudor age. I love that era too, but as a teenager, I decided that I would make the seventeenth century – and especially the colourful, roisterous, fancily dressed reign of King Charles II – my particular enthusiasm.

  I hope this book might inspire you to ‘adopt’ an era yourself.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Cate Cain is a true cockney, having been born within hearing distance of the church bells of St Mary-le-Bow in the City of London.

  She studied English Literature at the University of London and trained to be a teacher. After leaving teaching, Cate became a journalist and worked in newspapers for more than ten years.

  Cate has always loved history and now, appropriately, works for the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings in Spitalfields, London. Her office is in the attic of an old Georgian building and, like Jem, Cate often daydreams, looking out of the attic window over the London rooftops around her office.

  Cate lives in St Albans with her husband, Stephen.

  Jem and his friends are now free from Count Cazalon’s clutches, and enjoying the sort of life they’d always longed for. But when a party at Jem’s elegant new house goes terribly wrong, they find themselves flung headlong into danger once more.

  Look out for Jem, Tolly, Ann and Cleo’s next thrilling adventure, coming in September 2014!

  A TEMPLAR BOOK

  First published in the UK in 2013 by Templar Publishing,

  an imprint of The Templar Company Limited,

  Deepdene Lodge, Deepdene Avenue, Dorking,

  Surrey, R
H5 4AT, UK

  www.templarco.co.uk

  This ebook edition first published in 2013 by Templar Publishing

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2013 by Cate Cain

  Cover illustration by Levi Pinfold

  The right of Cate Cain to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN (ePub) 978-1-84877-232-8

  ISBN (Mobi) 978-1-84877-233-5