‘So, Roland doesn’t know who he really is?’ asked Max.
The old man shook his head repeatedly and Max noticed there were tears of anger in his eyes – eyes that had been damaged by all those years of vigil from the top of the lighthouse.
‘Then who is buried in Jacob Fleischmann’s plot in the cemetery?’ Max asked.
‘Nobody,’ replied the old man. ‘Officially, no one ever built that tomb and there was no funeral. The mausoleum you saw the other day simply appeared in the local cemetery the week after the storm. The people in the town thought that Fleischmann had it built for his son.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Max replied. ‘If it wasn’t Fleischmann, then who put it there, and why?’
Victor Kray smiled bitterly.
‘Cain,’ he replied at last. ‘Cain put it there. He’s been reserving it for Jacob.’
‘My God,’ whispered Max, realising that perhaps he’d wasted precious time, forcing the old man to confess the entire story. ‘We must get Roland away from the beach hut immediately…’
*
Alicia woke up to the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Night had fallen and the rain was pounding on the roof of the hut as if the storm was trying to destroy it. She sat up in a daze and saw that Roland was still lying on the bed, whispering incoherently in his sleep. Max wasn’t there. She walked over to the door, opened it and took a quick look at the beach.
A ghostly mist was creeping up from the sea towards the hut, and Alicia could hear dozens of voices whispering from its midst. She slammed the door and leaned against it, determined not to let panic take over. Startled by the banging of the door, Roland opened his eyes and pulled himself up, not quite understanding how he’d got there.
‘What’s happening?’
Alicia opened her mouth to speak, but something stopped her. Roland watched in amazement as the thick mist filtered through every join in the hut and entwined itself around her. The girl screamed and the door on which she’d been leaning flew outside, torn off its hinges by an invisible force. Roland jumped out of bed and ran to help Alicia, who was being pulled away towards the sea, wrapped in a tentacle of eerie mist. A figure stood in his way. Roland recognised the watery spectre that had pulled him down to the ocean depths. The clown’s wolfish face lit up.
‘Hello, Jacob,’ the voice whispered behind gelatinous lips. ‘Now we’re going to have some fun.’
Roland punched the liquid form and it disintegrated in the air, water cascading down onto the floor. As he rushed outside, Roland was struck by the force of the storm. A swirling dome of dense purple clouds had formed above the bay, from which a blinding flash of lightning shot out towards one of the peaks of the cliff, exploding tons of rock, which rained down in a shower of fragments onto the beach.
Alicia screamed, struggling to free herself from the lethal embrace that imprisoned her, and Roland ran across the stones towards her. He tried to reach out and grab her hand but a large wave knocked him over. When he got up, the whole bay was shaking beneath his feet and Roland heard an enormous roar that seemed to be rising from the depths of the sea. The boy took a few steps back, struggling to keep his balance, and saw a gigantic luminous form emerging from the waters, sending waves several metres high in all directions. In the centre of the bay, the shape of a mast was beginning to appear. Slowly, before his incredulous eyes, the Orpheus was floating to the surface, enveloped in a supernatural aura.
Standing on the bridge, wrapped in his cloak, Cain pointed a silver wand to the heavens and another bolt of lightning flashed above him, illuminating the Orpheus. The magician’s cruel laughter echoed through the bay as the spectral tentacle dropped Alicia at his feet.
‘You’re the one I want, Jacob,’ Cain’s voice whispered in Roland’s mind. ‘If you don’t want her to die, come and get her…’
16
Max was cycling through the rain when a bright flash of lightning startled him. It revealed the sight of the Orpheus re-emerging from the depths, glowing with a hypnotic light that emanated from her metal frame. Cain’s old ship was once more sailing across the furious waters of the bay. Max pedalled on desperately, afraid that he wouldn’t reach the beach hut in time. He’d left the lighthouse keeper behind – the old man couldn’t possibly keep up with him. When Max reached the edge of the beach, he jumped off his bike and sprinted towards Roland’s hut. He discovered that the door had been torn clean off its hinges. On the shore, he caught sight of the paralysed outline of his friend, standing spellbound as he watched the ghostly ship plough through the waves. Max thanked the heavens and ran over to embrace him.
‘Are you all right?’ he shouted against the howl of wind.
Roland looked back at him, startled, like a wounded animal unable to escape its predator. Max saw in him the childish face that had held the camera in front of the mirror and he shuddered.
‘He’s got Alicia,’ said Roland at last.
Max knew his friend couldn’t really understand what was going on but he felt that trying to explain it would only complicate things.
‘Whatever happens,’ Max shouted, ‘you have to get away from him. Do you hear me? You must get away from Cain!’
Ignoring his words, Roland waded into the sea until the swell reached his waist. Max went after him and tried to pull him back, but Roland, who was stronger, shoved him aside and forged on into the water.
‘Wait!’ shouted Max. ‘You don’t know what’s happening! You’re the one he’s looking for!’
‘I know,’ Roland replied.
Max watched his friend dive into the waves and surface a couple of metres further out, swimming towards the Orpheus. The wiser half of his soul begged him loud and clear to run back to the hut and hide under the bed until everything was over. As usual, Max listened to the other side and threw himself into the waves, quite sure that this time he wouldn’t make it back alive.
*
Cain’s long gloved fingers closed like pincers around Alicia’s wrist. The magician pulled her along the slippery deck of the Orpheus while she struggled frantically to free herself. Cain turned round and, lifting her effortlessly into the air, put his face so close to hers that the girl could see his eyes burning with anger. They changed colour from blue to gold, and his pupils dilated.
‘I’m not going to say this twice.’ The magician’s voice was lifeless, as cold as steel. ‘Keep still or you’ll be sorry. Understood?’
The magician increased the pressure of his fingers. Alicia was afraid that if he didn’t stop he’d pulverise the bones in her wrist as if they were brittle clay. Realising that it was useless to oppose him, she nodded nervously. Cain loosened his grip and smiled. There was no pity or courtesy in that smile, only hatred. He let go of her and Alicia fell to the deck, hitting her forehead on the metal. She touched her skin and felt the sharp stinging sensation of an open wound. Without giving her a moment to recover, Cain grabbed her arm again and dragged her towards the bowels of the ship.
‘Go on,’ the magician ordered, pushing her along a corridor that led from the bridge to the cabins.
The walls were black and covered in rust and a slimy coat of seaweed. Inside, the Orpheus was swimming in muddy water that gave off a noxious smell, and was filled with bits and pieces of debris that swayed with the rocking of the ship on the heavy swell. Cain grabbed Alicia by the hair and opened the door of one of the cabins. A cloud of gas and the stench of stagnant water that had been imprisoned for twenty-five years filled the air. Alicia held her breath. Still clutching her hair, the magician heaved her towards the door.
‘The best suite awaits you, my dear. The captain’s cabin for my guest of honour. Enjoy the company.’