Read The Bone Quill for Free Online

thrust it against Zach’s throat.
    ‘I asked you a question.’
    Although he looked younger than Zach, the boy had already lost many of his front teeth. His breath was as foul as the air in the wagon, and his eyes were dead.
    Zach grabbed the boy’s knife hand and squeezed his wrist.
    You don’t want to hurt me,
Zach projected into the boy’s mind.
You’re tired and you’re so very hungry and you’ll feel much better if you ignore me.
    The boy’s grip loosened on the knife enough for Zach to roll away. Quickly, Zach flipped on to his back, pressed his feet against the lock and kicked with all his might. The lock snapped. He tore open the draped tarp and, without thinking about where he was going to end up, he jumped out and into the seething streets of Victorian London.

THIRTEEN
     
    T he twins skimmed across the surface of the River Thames on the jet ski, Em’s eyes focused on the black-draped wagon labouring above them on the Embankment. Matt was doing his best to dodge in and out of the slow-moving barges and torpedo-shaped steam ships cluttering the river’s lanes. Two sailors yelled in astonishment from a barge, and a few tenants of a row of slum housing, lining a section of the Embankment like stacked shoe boxes, yelled for them to stop, but for the most part the twins and their jet ski might have been invisible.
    I’m out! I’m heading back towards Big Ben.
    Em started at the sound of Zach’s voice in her head.
    Matt! Zach’s out of the wagon. Turn round. He’s running back the way he just went.
    Communicating telepathically made it easier for the twins to hear each other over the roar of the traffic around them. They could also keep their mouths closed and not have to swallow the stench.
    The river was sweating filth.
    Matt cut the craft into its own wake, barely missing two punters dressed for a picnic with their colourfully dressed lady friends in wide-brimmed hats. The waves bounced and tipped the spluttering picnickers out of their boats and into the water.
    ‘Sorry,’ yelled Em, as the four shocked Victorians crawled to the safety of the riverbank, their baskets, boats, straw hats and parasols floating away from them in the strong current.
    Above them, Zach was sprinting back towards Charing Cross Bridge. Two policemen, looking like extras from a silent film, were in close pursuit, having heard the warning bells of the wagon driver when his vehicle had been emptied of its cargo seconds after Zach tumbled to the street.
    Zach spotted a horse-drawn omnibus pulling away from a crowded pedestrian stand. Cutting into the street, he ran, leaping on to the bus platform, bouncing the entire bus as he did so. He scrambled up the circular steps to the top deck. The policemen were still following, and so was the child-catcher in the black wagon.
    There’s a posse chasing me.
    Unfortunately for Zach, the omnibus took on and released passengers regularly. The men chasing him were catching up. At the next stop, he would be trapped.
    Em could now see Zach standing at the rear of the bus, watching the chase on the road behind him. Matt darted between two coal barges and shot underneath Charing Cross Bridge as Em clung to his waist.
    Matt flung a thought at his twin sister.
    Tell Zach to get on the pedestrian side of the bridge. He’ll lose them in the crowds up there.
    Em stared up at the bridge packed with pedestrians walking across to the east bank of the Thames and a line of sad-looking men and women pushing their overflowing carts along the edges of the bridge. There was hardly any space between them and the rails.
    Zach? At the next bus stop, climb off.
    But they’ll catch me.
    Not if you climb on to the struts of the railway bridge.
    Matt was doing his best to hold the jet ski steady as they bounced beneath in the waves.
    ‘We can’t sit here like rubber ducks for long, Em,’ he yelled. ‘It’s too dangerous. We’ll be spotted.’
    ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Em, patting their sketch of