The Great Brain Robbery, page 6
“So what parts are we looking for?” asked Suzy, raising her voice over the babble and clatter.
Fletch pressed a blue ticket into her hand. “Check every blue bin and shelf,” he said. “See if you can’t find me a nice length of pipe.”
“No problem,” she said. “I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”
All the shelves and bins she could see were surrounded by crowds of trolls, so she headed deeper into the building, down aisles of color-coded shelves and past the hulk of an old troll steam locomotive, which dominated the center of the junkyard. The farther she went, the quieter things became, until the commotion of the crowd faded to a background hum.
She found herself wondering just how long she was going to have to stay in Trollville. Would the trains be working again tomorrow? And even if they were, what would she tell her parents when Fletch finally broke the sleeping spell and woke them up? She could hardly tell them the truth.
She was still turning the question over in her mind when she realized she wasn’t alone. She had rounded the rear corner of the old locomotive into the dingy back end of the junkyard. Some way ahead of her, through the pools of shadow, was a troll sorting through a yellow bin. He wore a heavy black work jacket, fingerless gloves, and baggy trousers. His skin was a stony gray, and there was a look of intense concentration on his face. If he noticed her at all, he didn’t react.
“There’s got to be something here that fits!” she heard him mutter.
Something about him made her pause. She had the uncanny impression that she had seen him somewhere before. She searched her memory, trying to imagine how they could possibly have met. Had he been at Grinding Halt? It seemed unlikely.
She was still turning the question over in her mind when something large dropped out of the air and landed behind the troll with barely a sound.
It was a figure, tall and broad shouldered, shrouded in a cape and hood of midnight blue. It reared up over the troll, and Suzy was about to call out a warning when the hooded figure spoke.
“What are you doing here, you fool?” The voice was deep, and as thick and smooth as honey. The troll whirled around in terror.
“Boss!” he said, pressing his back to the bin.
Meanwhile Suzy shrank behind the cover of the old locomotive, but poked her head out to keep the two figures in sight. “I-I’m still looking for parts to fix the drill,” the troll stammered. “I just need some copper piping.”
“And have you found any?”
The troll swallowed audibly. “No.”
The figure reached out and caught the troll by the lapels of his coat, lifting him bodily off the ground. Suzy stared in horror at the figure’s hand—its skin was thick and scaly, and the fingers ended in long black curving talons. She couldn’t guess what sort of face lay within the shadow of the hood, but the troll shut his eyes and turned away from it, too scared to look.
“I hired you to do a job,” the figure snarled. “You’re supposed to be the best in the business.”
“And I am, I swear!” said the troll, his feet kicking uselessly in mid-air. Suzy noticed, for the first time, that his boots were encrusted in some sort of glittering yellow powder. “You know there isn’t a safe or a bank vault in the Union that I can’t break into. Have I ever failed you?”
“You failed me tonight,” said the figure. “This is the biggest heist of our careers, and not only did your drill fail to break open the vault, it also set off an earthquake that almost killed us.”
They caused the earthquake? Suzy couldn’t help but gasp. It was a tiny sound, but the cloaked figure dropped the troll immediately and turned to scan the shadows. A pair of huge, round golden eyes stared out from inside the hood. They seemed to glow with an inner fire, except for the pupils, which were large and black as night. A hunter’s eyes. Suzy drew her head back before they could pinpoint her and waited for the sound of his footsteps approaching her hiding place. But there was just a moment’s silence before the figure spoke again.
“We’ve wasted enough time. I want the drill repaired and the vault split wide open by dawn. Understood?”
“I understand, boss, it’s just…”
“Just what?”
The troll seemed to be considering his next words very carefully. “It’s this whole job, boss. I don’t like it.”
A long, slow hiss of displeasure emerged from the hood, and Suzy felt a renewed prickle of fear on the troll’s behalf. She inched her head out from behind the locomotive again and saw the figure circling the troll. She got another glimpse of those large, lamp-like eyes. The troll avoided looking at them.
“I don’t like being stuck down there so far under the ground,” the troll said. “Those caves weren’t meant for the likes of you and me. And I reckon the ancient trolls left the vault down there because they didn’t want anyone to mess with it.”
“Of course they didn’t want anyone to mess with it, you clod!” his boss replied. “All their riches are locked inside it. Diamonds as big as boulders. Enough gold to buy the Ivory Tower! You seemed happy enough to take the job when I promised you a share.”
The troll shuffled uncomfortably. “I know. But that was before the earthquake.”
“Then make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“But that’s just it, boss, I can’t! As soon as the drill touched the vault, the quake started. And the more power we used, the worse it got. It’s like the vault was fighting back.”
“Are you saying you can’t open it?”
“I’m saying, if the drill’s motor hadn’t blown when it did, we’d have brought the whole cave down on ourselves. You can see for yourself what the quake did to Trollville.”
“Trollville doesn’t matter,” his boss replied, prompting a flash of anger in Suzy. “If the vault wants to put up a fight we’ll just hit back harder.”
“But, boss! If we start drilling again, the whole city could collapse!”
“Let it. By the time we’re finished you’ll be rich enough to build your own city and rule it as king. Who will be left to stop you?”
“Me!” shouted Suzy, and immediately clamped her mouth shut. The word had escaped her before she had even realized she was going to speak, and now both the hooded figure and the troll were looking around in surprise.
She stepped out into view, her blood coursing like ice water in her veins. She squeezed her hands into fists, determined not to show any fear.
“A spy!” said the hooded figure.
“No,” Suzy replied. “Just a postie in the right place at the right time.”
“I don’t believe you.” Except for his eyes, the figure’s face remained hidden by the shadows of the hood. “You’re working for that meddling Cloudwright, aren’t you?”
“The meddling who?” said Suzy.
“If he wants what I took from him, he can come and get it himself,” the figure continued.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Suzy. “But I’m not going to let you destroy Trollville.”
“No?” The hooded figure sounded amused. “Look me in the eyes and say that.” He fixed her with a hard stare, and Suzy met it unflinchingly.
Then, little by little, she realized she really wasn’t afraid anymore. A strange calm had overtaken her, as though the smoldering coals of his eyes were warming her whole body, making her feel safe and reassured. She had nothing to fear. All she had to do was keep looking. Keep looking into those eyes …
“That’s it,” said the figure, raising his hands. His talons were as sharp as knives, but Suzy hardly noticed. They couldn’t hurt her—she was too comfortable.
“Boss?” Suzy heard the troll’s voice as if from very far away. “Boss, stop it! Let’s just get out of here.”
Slowly and calmly, with his hands outstretched, the hooded figure advanced.
“Suzy!”
It was Wilmot’s voice, and Suzy blinked at the sound of it. In an instant, the spell on her mind was broken. She saw the grasping hands reaching for her and threw herself sideways. The figure’s talons closed on empty air, and he hissed with frustration as Suzy landed at his feet.
“Just stay still and let me kill you!” he said, raising his hand to strike.
There was a bellowing roar, and he froze. Suzy scrambled clear and saw that Ursel, Wilmot, Frederick, and Fletch were racing down the aisle toward her. She almost laughed with relief at the sight of them.
“Leave her alone!” shouted Frederick.
The gray-skinned troll had run for cover behind his boss. “What do we do now?” he cried.
Ursel reared onto her hind legs and roared again, so loud that Suzy had to cover her ears.
“Back to the caves!” the figure cried. He turned and grabbed the troll under the arms. Then, with a whoosh and a snap, his cloak split open down the back and two enormous feathered wings emerged. Their span was so large that they swept bits of scrap off nearby shelves, the feathers golden brown and tipped with silver. Suzy just had time to ponder how beautiful they were before the figure sprang into the air, still carrying the troll. Ursel lunged and tried to grab the trailing end of his cloak, but he was already out of reach.
“I’ll remember your faces,” the figure spat. “And I’ll make sure you all regret this!”
“Frowlf!” Ursel growled.
“Language!” said Wilmot.
With another beat of his wings, the figure rocketed straight up and through an open skylight in the roof, the troll dangling from his arms. Then they were gone.
“Are you hurt?” said Wilmot, racing to Suzy’s side and helping her up.
“Just a bit shaken,” she said. “Thanks for the rescue.”
“Just in the nick of time, too, by the looks of it,” said Fletch, looking warily at the skylight. “We found the parts we needed and came looking for you.”
Other trolls came running now, drawn by the noise. Soon, a small crowd surrounded them.
“Who were those two reprobates, anyway?” asked Fletch. “And what were they up to?”
That was when the true scale of everything she had overheard struck Suzy. Her legs felt suddenly weak, so she sat down and stared blankly at the spot from which the troll and his boss had lifted off. The troll had left a pair of gritty yellow boot prints behind. They sparkled slightly.
“What is it?” said Wilmot, dropping to his knees beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“Trollville’s in really big trouble,” she said. “There’s going to be another earthquake.”
“What?” said Frederick. “How can you know that?”
“It’s a long story,” she replied. “And I’ll explain everything, but first we’ve got to warn people.”
6
BACK IN BUSINESS
Suzy returned to the rest home with the others, where she reported her story to an increasingly worried-looking Gertrude and Dorothy. They sat halfway up the stairs, keeping their feet dry, while the Old Guard gathered with raincoats and umbrellas on the landing and listened in respectful silence.
“And you say they plan to start the drilling again before dawn?” said Gertrude.
“Yes, as long as they can repair their drill,” said Suzy. “And they only need a few bits of pipe for that.”
“Then we have to assume that they’ll manage it,” Gertrude said. “That means we’re all in danger.”
“We have to stop them,” said Suzy. “I know they’re in a cave somewhere nearby. They said it was made by the ancient trolls.”
“But nobody knows where those caves are hidden,” said Stonker, his brows knit together. “Or if they’re even real.”
“They’re real all right,” said Suzy. “And the two I overheard have found a way in.”
“This is all well an’ good,” said Fletch. “But while you’re all chinwaggin’, I’ve got a boiler to fix.” He picked up a canvas sack filled with the parts they had brought back from Totters’s junkyard, and splashed away toward the basement with it.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Suzy.
There was a moment of silence while everyone thought.
“I’ve got it!” burst out Dorothy. “We’ll talk to Kevin.”
“Who’s Kevin?” asked Frederick.
“He’s my cousin-in-law’s niece’s husband,” she replied. “I used to babysit him when he was little. But he’s all grown up now and joined the police. He still knows to listen to his aunty Dorothy, though. Just you wait and see.”
Trollville’s central police station proved to be a big squat box of a building in the heart of the Overside. Kevin, by contrast, was a pale and skinny troll, almost lost to view behind the assortment of old-fashioned rotary phones, piles of paperwork, and abandoned mugs of tea that covered the station’s reception desk. He held a phone receiver to each ear, and a third in the crook of one elbow. He was valiantly trying to take notes with a pen gripped between his teeth.
“Hello, Kevin,” said Dorothy, slapping her hand down on the desk. “We need a word, my dear.”
Kevin looked at her with an expression of dawning horror and spat the pen out. “Aunt Dorothy!” he said. “You haven’t got another parking ticket, have you?”
“It’s bigger than that,” said Dorothy, maneuvering Suzy to stand at the desk beside her. “There’s a crime in progress, and this young lady needs to speak to someone important about it. The higher up the chain, the better.”
“No can do,” said Kevin. “I mean, there’s nobody here except me. Everyone’s out helping with the cleanup or trying to catch the king.”
“The king?” said Suzy.
Kevin nodded as best he could without dropping the phones. “He took off from Grinding Halt on a jet pack and hasn’t come back down yet. We’re tracking him with our best trolls.”
“Then she’ll just have to speak to you,” said Dorothy. “It’s urgent.”
“So is everything else,” said Kevin. “I’ve got the palace, the mayor’s office, and the Chief Superintendent on the line.”
Dorothy leaned over the desk and brought her finger down on the phones, one after the other, cutting off the calls. “There. Problem solved.”
Kevin dropped the receivers and made a small, strangled noise in his throat. “That’s probably an arrestable offense!”
“You can call them back in a minute and tell them everything Suzy has to say,” said Dorothy. “You’ll thank me later.”
Kevin looked around the group, realized that this was an argument he wasn’t going to win, and sighed deeply. “Tell me all about it,” he said, pulling out his notebook.
It only took Suzy a few minutes to relate what had happened to her at Totters’s place. Kevin didn’t comment, although his brow furrowed as the story went on. When she had finished, he leafed back through his notes and sucked on the end of his pen.
“So, just to clarify,” he said. “You overheard a male troll and another male person of indeterminate species discussing how they triggered today’s earthquake by attempting to drill into a vault full of treasure, buried somewhere underground.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Is that about right?”
“Yes,” said Suzy, trying to ignore just how ridiculous it all sounded now that she heard it out loud. “They said they were in a cave made by the ancient trolls, and they’re going to start the drilling again. You have to stop them before they destroy Trollville!”
Kevin circled a few words in his notebook. “You also say the person who attacked you mentioned a Cloudwright,” he said. “Do you have any idea what he could have been talking about?”
“No,” said Suzy. “I don’t even know what a Cloudwright is.”
“That’s easy,” said Frederick, behind her. “A Cloudwright is a type of sorcerer. They use clouds in their magic.”
Kevin added this to his notes. “And you don’t know what this Cloudwright has to do with anything?”
Suzy shook her head. She was beginning to feel slightly foolish. “No.”
Kevin puffed out his cheeks and closed his notebook. “I honestly don’t know what to do with this. The allegations are very serious, but unless we know who we’re looking for and where to find them, I don’t think there’s much the police can do to help.”
“But we know they must be somewhere underneath Trollville,” said Suzy.
Wilmot perked up. “What if they found a way in through the Uncanny Valley?” he asked.
“Unlikely,” said Kevin.
Suzy shook her head. “Sorry, but what’s the Uncanny Valley?”
“It’s the valley beneath Trollville,” said Wilmot. “Nobody knows how deep it is. It’s uncharted.”
“Which is precisely the problem,” said Kevin. “It would take months to search the Valley properly, even if we had the trolls available to do it. And until the cleanup is completed and the king is safely back in the palace, I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got.”
Suzy felt a sickly twist in her stomach. “But we’re all in danger!”
“Uuunf,” said Ursel. “Rrrrolf, grunf.”
“Ursel’s right,” said Stonker. “If we can’t stop the drilling, then we’ve no choice but to evacuate the city. Immediately.”
Kevin’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t have the authority to do something like that!”
“Then who does?” asked Suzy. She heard the main doors swing open behind her, and Kevin pointed over her shoulder.
“He might.”
She turned to see a familiar figure hurrying toward them. “Grotnip!”
The king’s courtier slowed as he saw them. “I assume you’re all here to volunteer for the search?” he said.
“No,” said Suzy. “We need your help. Trollville—”
He waved her into silence. “Then it will have to wait,” he said, pushing his way to the desk. “Sergeant, what’s the latest?”
“Search teams reported the king heading in a southwesterly direction over Meteor Street a few minutes ago,” said Kevin. “But this young postie here has—”
