The Mask of Destiny by Richard Newsome Page B

the casket in a cave and then this lot was built on top of it.’
    â€˜So how do we find it under a jillion tonnes of stonework?’ Sam asked.
    Ruby pointed to the backpack at Gerald’s feet and clicked her fingers.
    â€˜What did your last slave die from?’ Gerald said as he kicked the pack across to Ruby.
    â€˜Insolence,’ Ruby said. She pulled out Gerald’s sketch.
    â€˜This shows the island from the bay side,’ she said. ‘See? The road back to the mainland is behind it.’
    Sam chewed on a bread roll. ‘So? Gerald drew that when he was in one of his bizarre trances. It could mean anything. Or nothing.’
    â€˜Maybe,’ Ruby said. ‘But Gerald’s trances always seem to point somewhere useful. I say we head out to the other side of the island and look at this exact view.’
    â€˜How do we get out there?’ Gerald said. ‘We’d need a boat.’
    â€˜You can walk.’ The words sliced through their conversation like a razor. ‘Some more hot chocolate, monsieur?’ The man from the reception hovered at Gerald’s elbow, a milk-stained pot in his hand.
    â€˜Um, thanks,’ Gerald said. ‘That’d be great.’
    Steam fingers curled up the flow of chocolate as it poured into Gerald’s mug.
    â€˜The tide is out so you can walk into the bay,’ the man said, refilling Sam and Ruby’s mugs in turn. ‘But take care. When the tide turns, it comes in at the speed of a galloping horse. And there is quicksand.’ His voice dropped. ‘It clutches at your legs like the devil himself has reached up to steal your soul and leave your bones to the gulls. People have been caught. And drowned.’
    Ruby smirked. ‘Quite the tourist trap then,’ she whispered to Gerald.
    â€˜I don’t get it,’ said Sam. ‘Last night there were waves crashing against the walls. You couldn’t walk anywhere. We saw them from the chopper.’
    He let out a sharp yelp and grabbed at his shin.
    Ruby forced a laugh. ‘My brother and his jokes.’
    â€˜ Très drôle ,’ the man said, without a flicker of a smile. ‘Monsieur will find that the tides here are about the largest in the world. At low tide you can walk halfway across the bay, if you are game.’ He checked the clock on the wall. ‘You have two or three hours before the water comes in again.’
    The man drifted back to the kitchen.
    Sam shot his sister a filthy glare. ‘What’d you kick me for?’
    â€˜You don’t think three kids turning up after midnight is suspicious enough that you have to go on about the helicopter as well?’ Ruby said.
    â€˜Speaking of which, I wonder where Mr Fry is,’ Gerald said.
    â€˜Sleeping in if he’s got any sense,’ Sam said, rubbing his shin. ‘We better get moving if we’re going to beat that tide.’
    As they walked out through the reception, the old man bobbed up from behind the counter. ‘Will you be staying another night?’ he asked, one hand resting on the till, a look of hopeful greed on his face. ‘I can have the room serviced straightaway.’
    Gerald glanced at the others. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said.
    â€˜Your friend. Your…’ the man paused, ‘your guardian. He asked me to tell you he had to check on the car. He’ll be back later.’
    â€˜Car?’ Sam said. ‘We don’t have a—’ Sam caught sight of his sister’s coiled right leg just in time to check himself.
    â€˜He is not friendly, your guardian,’ the man said. ‘Not one for conversation.’
    â€˜No, I guess not,’ Gerald said.
    â€˜And the breakfast? It was to your liking?’
    â€˜It was okay.’
    The man’s eyes darted down to his hand by the till, then back to Gerald.
    â€˜It was good? Yes?’
    The telephone rang. Gerald put his hands in his pockets—and left them