Perhaps sensing his calming words were working, he began to walk forward. ‘Miles, give Mr Barthrop the telescope. Let’s make him happy, hey?’ When he sensed the boy not complying, he turned his gaze from Barthrop over to where Miles was still pressed against the rail.
Aleksey shouted a warning. He smashed his fist once more into the glass, but Colter was too slow. Barthrop dropped the knife, picked up one of the fallen paddles and swung it wildly in an arc around his head. The blade hit Colter in the temple but only a glancing blow. He would possibly have recovered, but he tripped over an oar as he tried to dodge. Staggering, with a hand to his bleeding forehead, he toppled backwards over the rail. He tried to grab it with his bandaged hand but had no grip; his fingers slipped off, and he dropped into the sea.
However, the dip in the cold water revived him. When he surfaced, spluttering and spitting, he shouted menacingly up at the little man with the oar. ‘You’re fucking done for now, mate. That’s mutiny. I’m the bleeding capt—’ Suddenly, without warning, not sinking or attempting to climb up, he went sidewards instead. It was completely bizarre. Aleksey put his hand on the glass cylinder in amazed dread as Colter just shot through the water about fifty metres past the stern of the boat. Hanging suspended, he did a little jig, as if to some music in his head, and then he came back. It seemed almost demonic, uncanny-valley territory: people couldn’t swim upright or sidewards. When he returned, his face was frozen in a rictus of horror. Very slowly, he began to tip to one side. Instinctively, Aleksey tried to put his hand out to stop him going under, but his palm only came to rest impotently on the glass. Colter turned right over, his head and shoulders sinking beneath the water. He had been severed at the waist. His torso bobbed up for a moment, until the grisly sight of intestines and white spinal column sank into the darkness. There wasn’t even a ripple left on the surface where he’d been. Ben, now standing at his side, pale, features strained with stress and pain, breathed a soft, ‘Fuck,’ and Aleksey had no intention of admonishing him.
Miles had been scared before. Now he was shivering. Barthrop waved the oar at him. ‘If you don’t give me the telescope, you will be next.’
Miles gave it to him.
Aleksey thumped the glass once more. ‘Take it and go, Barthrop. Find the fucking map, find the treasure, it’s all yours. Just fucking go. It’s on Light Island somewhere, and the map will show you where. I think it’s in the sea caves beneath the lighthouse. Go look there!’ Aleksey glanced over at Ben’s temporary bandage; it was completely soaked with blood. He eased him back to sitting. Almost more worrying than the sight of all the blood, Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen didn’t object to being sat. He just sank to one side, drew his feet up and lay shivering with his arm still elevated.
‘Oh, I know it’s on La Luz.’ Aleksey swung back desperately to the glass and banged on it again. Barthrop was attempting to unscrew the scope, twisting it around, using his shirt tails to get a better grip. ‘That greedy fool told me.’
‘Colter—’
‘Not him. Orlando Frobisher. He thought he could convince me to upgrade his roof. Told me how importantChi Lugern Enys—his house—was.’ He couldn’t make any inroad on the scope and began muttering, ‘Randal said it was on the island. That old Nazi actually got it right.’ Finally, in frustration, he began to smash the telescope on the edge of the deck.
‘Don’t do that!’ Miles stepped forward for the first time and caught at Barthrop’s arm.
‘Miles! Let him be!’ Aleksey climbed up on the seating and thumped repetitively. ‘Miles!’
Barthrop only pushed the boy away. As he did, the scope broke into pieces, the leather casing splitting and the brass cylinder cracking at the extending joints. All the little enamelled tiles skittered over the deck, their bright colours making them look like sweets cast from the hands of a careless child. Miles, staring at them, whispered, ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘There’s nothing here!’ Barthrop was searching the pieces of the shattered instrument. ‘There’s no map!’ He seemed almost pleased, which was crazy, even amidst all the insanity of the moment. But it was true; Aleksey heardreliefin his voice. But then the little man turned meaningfully to the hydrosphere.
‘In the sea caves. You said you knew where it was. You’ll never let this go, will you? You will find it eventually. Or someone will one day. Unless I—’ He shook his head sadly and turned to Miles, who began to back away again.
Barthrop was biting his lip, trying to decide something.
He picked up the knife once more.
Miles, his intelligent eyes flicking from the sea to the sphere, weighing up his options, told him shockingly calmly, ‘I know where the treasure is.’ Barthrop hesitated for a fraction of a second, but came on, clearly not believing the boy. Miles, still incredibly calm, continued, ‘It was a code, do you see? The flags.’ He pointed to the tiny coloured pieces scattered at his feet.
At that, Barthrop did stop. He glanced at the two of them in the sphere. ‘What do you mean? You’re lying.’
‘No, I’m not. I never lie. Ben says there’s only room for—I don’t lie. I worked it out at Christmas. My sister was making paper chains, and she’s a bit of a handful to be honest. To stop her fussing, I told her how to make them spell her name. Did you know the flag for M is the cross of St Andrews? That’s awfully coincidental because I’m Scottish. And I’m called Miles. But it was then I remembered the scratches. When Nikolas gave me the telescope, I thought he’d been a bit careless with it, because it was covered in little scratches. But thinking of codes…I just wondered. And when I sat down with them, one scratch, two, three, four…they started to spell a message.’
‘What did it say?’ Barthrop seemed mesmerised by the boy’s explanation, and suddenly Aleksey realised that Miles was deliberately lulling him with words, luring him in, just as he’d been lured. Was any of this true? Could the scratches, which he’d been planning on having removed during a renovation and clean of the old scope, truly be a code to the location of buried treasure?
‘I can’t remember. And you’ve smashed them now—look.’ At Barthrop’s furious step forward, Miles added swiftly, ‘I wrote it down. In the house. I can show you where.’
Barthrop chewed his lip some more, darting angry little glances around. With all his considerable strength, Aleksey pounded on the glass. ‘I’ll get out of here, Barthrop. I will smash this fucking thing to pieces. You harm one hair on his head, and I’ll hunt you down and fucking skin you alive. Do you hear me?’
Barthrop nodded. ‘Yes. I expect you would.’ He began to climb back up the ladder to the deck. He peered down at them for a moment then pressed something on the control panel. ‘Which is why I think this might be the best thing to do.’ Very slowly, the hydrosphere began to slide into the water.
Miles’s face went even paler as he saw what was happening. Aleksey flung himself against the glass. ‘I’ll come for you, Miles. I’ll find you. Do whatever he says. Don’t be brave.’
‘I’m never very brave.’
‘Be clever then.’
Miles nodded, seemed to think of something, and then said very clearly, as Barthrop caught at his arm and began to drag him away, ‘You’re the Raiser, Nikolas, remember? That’s you. TheRaiser.’
* * *
Chapter Twenty-TWO
The sphere came to its resting position, and the glass floor opened, the Atlantic sloshing a little beneath them, the seabed not visible at all. They couldn’t hear any noise fromRogue Waveuntil the buzzing of an engine sounded. He had approximately ten feet to swim. That was all. A tiny distance between him and being able to follow Miles. Aleksey began to strip off his boots.
