The Midnight Palace - Carlos Ruiz Zafon [79]
Jawahal rose and walked over to Ben. The boy swallowed hard and was about to run, but Jawahal stopped about two metres away then clasped his hands together and gave a small bow.
‘I’ve enjoyed our conversation, Ben,’ he said politely. ‘When you’ve got your breath back, come and find me. It’s going to be fun. I promise.’
Before Ben could utter a word, Jawahal’s silhouette transformed into a whirlwind of fire that shot across the station at prodigious speed before diving into the tunnels, leaving a garland of flames in its wake.
Ben gave one last look at the bloodstained shawl, then entered the tunnels once more, knowing that this time, whatever route he took, all the passageways would lead to the same point.
THE SHAPE OF THE train emerged from the shadows. Ben gazed at the endless line of carriages, all of them scarred by fire, and for a moment it was as if he was looking at the skeleton of a giant mechanical snake. As he drew closer he recognised the train he thought he’d seen passing through the walls of the orphanage a few nights before, enveloped in flames and transporting the trapped souls of hundreds of children. The train now sat immobile in the dark, and nothing seemed to indicate that his friends were inside. Yet a hunch led him to believe they were. He went past the engine and slowly walked along the row of carriages, searching for them.
Halfway along, he stopped to look back and saw that the head of the train was already lost in shadow. As he was about to resume his walk, he noticed a face pale as death staring at him from one of the windows of the nearest carriage.
He turned his head abruptly and his heart skipped a beat. A boy of about seven was watching him attentively with penetrating dark eyes. Ben took a step in his direction. The boy opened his lips and flames issued forth, setting fire to the image which then crumbled in front of Ben like a piece of dry paper. Ben felt an icy cold settle on the nape of his neck as he continued walking, ignoring the horrific murmur of voices that seemed to be coming from some hidden place within the train.
When he finally reached the guard’s van he walked up to the door and pushed the handle. Inside, hundreds of candles were burning. Ben stepped inside and the faces of Isobel, Ian, Seth, Michael, Roshan and Siraj lit up with hope. Ben gave a sigh of relief.
‘Now we’re all here, maybe we can start the game,’ said a familiar voice next to him.
Ben turned and saw Jawahal’s arms locked round his sister. The door of the van slid shut, like an armour-plated hatch, and Jawahal let go of Sheere, who ran over to Ben.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, hugging her.
‘Of course she’s all right,’ Jawahal snapped.
‘Are all of you all right?’ Ben asked the members of the Chowbar Society, who were handcuffed on the floor.
‘Perfectly fine,’ Ian confirmed.
They exchanged a look that spoke volumes. Ben nodded.
‘If any of you has the slightest scratch,’ Jawahal said, ‘it’s only due to your own clumsiness.’
Ben turned to Jawahal, moving Sheere to one side.
‘Tell us what you want.’
Jawahal looked surprised.
‘Nervous, Ben? In a hurry to get it over with? I’ve waited sixteen years for this moment; I can wait a little longer. Especially now that Sheere and I are enjoying our new relationship.’
The possibility that Jawahal had revealed his identity to Sheere was gnawing at Ben. Jawahal seemed to read his mind.
‘Don’t listen to him, Ben,’ said Sheere. ‘This man killed our father. Whatever he says is as worthless as the dirt covering this dump.’
‘Harsh words to say about a friend,’ Jawahal remarked.
‘I’d rather die than be your friend.’
‘Our friendship, Sheere, is only a matter of time,’ Jawahal whispered.
His smile suddenly disappeared, and at a signal from his hand, Sheere was sent flying towards the other end of the van, as if she’d been hit by an invisible battering ram.
‘Now get some rest. Soon we’ll be together for ever …’
Sheere crashed against the metal wall and fell unconscious to the ground. Ben rushed towards her, but the iron pressure of Jawahal’s hand restrained