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  ‘Grab the rope and walk up the wall!’ my father says. I’ve never seen such fear in his eyes. What is he afraid of? Then I realise. He’s scared for me …

  ‘You first,’ I say and hold the rope out for Sam. He goes hand-over-hand and walks his way up the rough cement-rendered wall. The minute that it takes ticks by agonisingly slowly. Sweat trickles into my eyes and I wipe my face with my sleeve.

  ‘Xavier!’ my father calls out.

  I begin to climb. I hear the crowd’s murmurings turn to shrieks and my panic rises like a wave, threatening to overwhelm me.

  I look over my shoulder, the tiger is running towards me, readying to pounce.

  I just manage to swing my legs from its reach but I’m slipping.

  ‘Hang on!’ Dad yells and wraps the rope around his forearm. He pulls backwards, disappearing from view. Sam grabs onto the rope, other hands taking the strain with him, the rope running over the handrail and pulling me upwards as—

  ‘Argh!’ I feel claws tearing at my leg as the tiger leaps towards me.

  But suddenly I am on my back, heaving for air. I thought I was a goner.

  I hear relieved sighs and exclamations all around me. My father leans over me, his eyes wet. Is he crying? I’ve never seen him cry before …

  The massive brick and concrete tower reminds me of a medieval castle, only more modern and brutal in appearance.

  We descend stairs—dank and dark—until we come to a concrete passageway that branches off in several directions.

  ‘Which way?’ my father asks.

  ‘Follow me,’ I reply. A couple of turns later we come to a steel door. ‘Through there.’

  ‘What’s through there?’ Dad asks.

  ‘What we came for,’ I reply. It’s locked and we don’t have the key. There’s no budging it—this door is made to withstand more than a heavy push.

  ‘There!’ I say. There’s an air duct built into the ceiling above us.

  ‘There’s no way that I—’

  ‘Come on, Dad!’ I say.

  Sam leads with the help of a torch, and we wriggle our way through the confines of the duct, over the unyielding doorway and to the next grate. With a nudge of Sam’s elbow the grate pops free and falls downwards with a splash.

  ‘Great,’ Sam says, his voice echoing in the pitch dark.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s flooded down there,’ he says.

  ‘Keep taking the air duct?’ I suggest. Sam shuffles ahead and sees that the duct drops off into a steep incline.

  ‘Might be flooded too,’ he replies as we inch along for a better look. Before I can say or think anything else, we’re skidding down the incline, our shouts of surprise echoing in the small space and making my ears ring.

  I cough out water. I’m on my hands and knees, fighting for breath. I watch as a dark pool of water forms before me on the dry cement floor. Tears drip from my eyes.

  For a few moments, I fight to regain my composure.

  The light is dull and does not penetrate far, but I can make out a big warehouse-like cavern. I trace my way around, eventually finding a wall, which I follow until I fumble over a steel box, with big switches. I flick through them until I hear a thump, crack, spark, and then a loud humming.

  Banks of lights switch on, flooding the space with blinding light, making me shade my eyes as they adjust.

  I am standing, feet glued to the floor, mouth agape. Before me, an immense factory spreads out—a production line. Many of the shapes I cannot make out until I walk across the room and see the finished product. Several aircraft are lined up. They are without any markings or paint, simply aluminium and glass. Jet aircraft, no propellers. I move closer, standing under the nearest plane.

  How can this be? Why is all this here?

  ‘Xavier!’

  I turn to see Sam and my father running towards me.

  ‘RUN!’ my father shouts.

  BANG, BANG, BANG!

  Bullets ricochet and spark off the machinery closest to me.

  ‘Those German traitors!’ Sam yells on his way past me.

  I spin around and the world around me has changed. I’m still somewhere dimly lit, the atmosphere just as dank. I hear my own voice calling out weakly and struggle to move. Pain.

  I’m on the ground. Bleeding.

  ‘Sam,’ I say. ‘My father …’

  ‘WHERE ARE YOU . .?’

  The voice makes my blood run cold.

  ‘Take this,’ I say, my voice weak, handing Sam a small brass disc.

  ‘I’M GOING TO FIND YOU …’ the voice comes from all around, everywhere at once.

  ‘Don’t let him get it,’ I say, and I can see Sam, sense a presence, but feel utterly helpless.

  ‘I’m here too!’ Sam is shouting, ‘I can see what you’re seeing. C’mon we have to go!’

  I can’t move.

  Another voice calls out to me—my father. I stand up to run towards him but he yells at me to stop.

  ‘Go, Xavier, please! And always remember that I love you, son,’ he says.

  I smile, ‘I love you t—’

  I hesitate at a movement behind him. Within the darkness of the shadows, there’s something even darker, and before I can say another word, fire erupts out of the dark, engulfing my father and coming straight towards me.

  Sam is screaming, ‘Noooo! Xavier! Xavier, wake up!’

  And I’m screaming too, and then I close my eyes.

  There’s only me now.

  25

  SAM

  ‘Noooo!’

  Sam sat up in bed, panting for breath. There were sounds from across the room—Xavier was still asleep but murmuring fitfully.

  ‘Xavier!’ Sam watched him violently toss and turn in his sleep as though he were trying to fight someone. ‘Xavier, wake up!’

  Xavier continued to thrash in his bed and then screamed.

  Dr Dark came running in and shook his son awake. ‘Xavier! It’s me, Dad, wake up, son!’

  Xavier’s eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly, looking from his father to Sam, throwing his arms around his dad.

  Sam got out of bed and paced the room. He was drenched with sweat, the bedsheets completely soaked through. That dream had been so vivid—the despair he’d felt was like a solid mass on his chest, he couldn’t comprehend the others in the room with him.

  ‘Sam—Sam, are you all right?’ Dr Dark asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, still pacing, until he saw Xavier’s face and he stopped. His friend seemed to be in an even worse state of shock.

  He’s one of the last 13 all right, and now he knows it for sure.

  ‘I’m going to need some cool water and a washcloth,’ Dr Dark said, more to himself than to Sam. He picked up the phone in the room and soon it was answered. He spoke into the receiver and hung up. ‘Otto’s on his way.’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘Sam, did Xavier say anything else before I came in here?’ Dr Dark asked as Xavier tried to calm himself.

  ‘No,’ Sam replied. ‘He—we—had a nightmare.’

  Xavier looked at Sam, both of them understanding in that moment what had happened.

  ‘We?’ Dr Dark looked from one boy to the other.

  ‘Sam and I,’ Xavier said finally. ‘We were both there—we shared it.’

  ‘Sam, is that right?’ Dr Dark asked, amazement clearly showing on his face.

  ‘I … I think so,’ Sam stammered. ‘If Xavier had the same dream about the tiger … and Solaris. And there were planes too, I think.’

  Xavier nodded slowly. ‘That was Solaris, wasn’t it? It was so—and then he …’ Xavier was still wide-eyed and trembling.

  ‘Sam, if what you’re saying is true, that you shared Xavier’s dream … well, I’ve never heard of a Dreamer having such capabilities without extensive training, which I’m sure you haven’t received.’

  Sam shook his head and continued to pace the room.

  Now I’m having other people’s nightmares
too? Oh man … don’t freak out, breathe, breathe …

  ‘In some ways we shouldn’t really be surprised,’ Dr Dark was saying to him. ‘You’re the first Dreamer of the last 13, it seems quite possible that you’d be able to do such things intuitively.’

  The butler appeared at the doorway and Dr Dark turned to him, ‘Thank you for coming so quickly, Otto,’ Dr Dark said, moving towards him. ‘Could you please bring us some aspirin and arrange for—’

  He stopped cold.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Dr Dark asked.

  The butler remained there, standing still, silent—then Sam noticed the gun comfortably gripped in his hand.

  ‘My employer has a keen interest in these special Dreamers of yours,’ Otto said, his pistol pointed at Dr Dark. ‘And what they will lead us to.’

  ‘Your employer?’ Dr Dark protested. ‘Do you mean Hans?’

  ‘He has heard everything—there are ears everywhere,’ Otto pointed to the light switch, and Sam guessed there must be a tiny microphone in there, and in all of them, spread throughout the house.

  ‘I don’t believe this, how dare you threaten me!’ Dr Dark thundered. ‘Hans has been my friend for years!’

  ‘Friendship has its limits,’ Otto said. He turned and looked down the hallway and smiled. Sam watched as another man stepped in from the shadows. He was squat and thick-set with a shiny bald head. Beside him loomed the unmistakable bulk of the German Guardians’ leader.

  ‘Ah, Dark, so good to see you again,’ the bald man said.

  ‘Hans,’ Dr Dark said, ‘what is the meaning of all this? Have you lost your mind?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough,’ Hans replied, then turned to the Guardian and butler and said, ‘Get them cleaned up and bring them to the study.’

  Dressed and seated in an imposing study downstairs, the three captives sat opposite Hans as he turned his attention away from a laptop sitting in front of him. Two of the German Guardians stood sentry at the door.

  Least I know who they’re working for, that’s one mystery solved. Information that would have been more helpful yesterday, though.

  ‘So, Xavier …’ Hans said. ‘I’ve not seen you since you were much younger, how have you—’

  ‘Yeah? Can’t say that I’ve missed you,’ Xavier blurted out.

  Sam smiled. Xavier was sounding like his old self again.

  ‘And Sam,’ Hans said, ignoring Xavier and wagging his finger at Sam. ‘Sam, I have not yet met. You are a curiosity. Very, very interesting indeed …’

  ‘Pleasure’s all yours,’ Sam said.

  ‘Hmph, some manners they have, these boys of yours, Dark,’ Hans said.

  ‘What can I say?’ Dr Dark replied. ‘They know a rat when they see one. Why are you doing this?’

  ‘I’ve been after this treasure as long as you have,’ he replied. ‘And now it’s really happening, after all these years … and these kids are going to lead me to it.’ Hans tapped the rolled-up paper of the Stele rubbing sitting on his desk.

  ‘Treasure?’ Sam said. ‘You’re selling out your friend, all of us, for treasure?’

  ‘Sure, why not? Besides, I’m not selling out a friend,’ Hans said. ‘We’ve helped each other out over the years, and now he’s helped me to get to the two of you—and you’ll lead me to what I want. Although I could hardly have imagined that you would deliver them right to me!’ he sniggered at Dr Dark.

  Dr Dark glowered in return, looking as if he was ready to strangle Hans with his bare hands. ‘You know it’s not treasure that lies at the end of this, Hans,’ Dr Dark said. ‘It’s not gold or diamonds or whatever you’ve dreamed up might be there. There’s no Aladdin’s cave.’

  ‘It’s “the greatest treasure of our ages”, Dr Dark, and that goes beyond your crummy theories of the “treasure of the mind” and all that psychological garbage,’ Hans said, standing to light a cigar and then sitting on the edge of his desk. ‘You see, I’ve listened in on everything you said in this house, and if da Vinci thought it was so important, and went to such lengths to conceal the treasure, it’s monumental—much, much more incredible than I ever imagined. And it will make me the most powerful man in the world. I can think of lots of things I’d like to do with that much power.’

  Dr Dark had fury burning in his eyes.

  ‘Come now. Your mock outrage is really quite naive,’ Hans said, breaking into a huge grin. He turned his attention back to Sam and Xavier, ‘So, did you boys have a good dream? Judging by the look of you when you woke, it must have been exciting stuff, eh? Time for you to tell Uncle Hans all about it.’

  ‘And why would we do that?’ Xavier spat.

  ‘Because otherwise you might find yourself unexpectedly promoted to the head of the Dark Corporation,’ Hans said, pulling out a revolver and pointing it at Dr Dark. Sam grabbed Xavier’s arm to restrain him as he leapt out of his seat at Hans. Not now, Xavier … choose your battles.

  ‘I have your attention, I see. So tell me—what’s the next step in our little treasure hunt?’

  26

  EVA

  Eva still couldn’t sleep. She was in bed, the room dark, Gabriella’s quiet snoring a comfort. Somehow.

  I should record it, release it on the internet as her latest hit song …

  Eva smiled and rolled onto her side.

  How could Jedi think Alex and I were part of the last 13? And if Alex was and now he’s gone off somewhere, what does that mean for the prophecy? Did Alex dream of Solaris and some piece of the Bakhu? Will I?

  She adjusted the rubber skull cap that they wanted her to wear to record her dreams. The wires led under the bed to a recording device. If I have my dream tonight, as one of the 13, then maybe Sam will come rushing back.

  She looked across the room at Gabriella, who’d so effortlessly had her own dream, which then led to the adventure in Rome. No, not adventure—we were lucky to get out alive, all of us.

  Be careful what you wish for, her mother used to say. Enterprise Agents or not, Eva still missed her parents. They’d been her parents in every sense—taking her to school, on holidays, all the things that regular parents did. Sure, she’d argued with them, but there was nothing, ever, that made her question their love for her.

  At last, fitfully, slowly, Eva fell asleep.

  Eva woke up cold and shaking.

  It was still dark outside, she’d slept for maybe three hours. She sat up, her quilt wrapped around her shoulders, and pulled the dream cap off her head. She walked to the window. The first dull hues of dawn were starting to glow to the east—behind the mountain where she’d seen that fire.

  The camp fire.

  Eva squinted, searching for the tiny light she had seen. She struggled to recall what had woken her, but she knew there was a reason she had dreamed of that light.

  Is someone trying to send me a message?

  Images of the dream flicked through her mind, disjointed and broken. Hiking on the mountain, finding a camp, the ash of the fire and a room inside a cave.

  Was that it? Is that where it ended?

  The cave … the cave …

  Try as she might, she couldn’t remember. There was something about it, something that woke her, something important, but she couldn’t recall it.

  Maybe the dream recorder captured it? If it was a vivid enough dream, it would have been recorded.

  Jedi.

  Downstairs in the computing rooms, Jedi was nowhere to be seen. His bank of consoles was still rumbling and there was scrolling text flying down his screens at warp speed. Eva paced and waited for five, ten, fifteen minutes. She could wait no longer.

  Gabriella still slept soundly in the bed on the other side of their room. Eva scribbled a note for her and left it next to her pillow.

  Eva set off in the crisp morning air to cross the mountain. She borrowed a snowmobile, figuring no-one would mind and took the first leg at a flat-out pace, heading down the Academy’s mountain, traversing along a flagged path that followed the main ridge line
. The powder snow was easy going and it took her just twenty minutes to reach the point where she’d have to ditch the vehicle and go on foot—crossing a rocky pass and then hiking up the next mountain.

  Dressed in snow clothes a couple of sizes too big—she couldn’t find her size in the Academy’s storeroom—Eva zigzagged her way up the steep mountain-side, stopping at each turn to catch her breath in the thin mountain air as she exerted herself. The sun was peeking over the ridge now, bathing the Academy in light. They’d be awake any moment now, the students, staff, the Guardians. Maybe they’d be worried, but it was a clear bright day and she’d seen in her dream where she had to go.

  I’ll be fine, I’ll be back for dinner.

  ‘Next … time … though …’ she said to herself, fighting for breath from the exertion, ‘I’m … gonna … work-out … first.’

  Eva stopped and looked at the distance she’d covered and what lay ahead. It was going to be a long day.

  Gabriella turned over in her bed, adjusting the eye mask over her eyes to shut out any tiny glimpse of the morning light. She felt the paper on her pillow wrinkle against her cheek as she rolled on it. In a half-awake daze, she lifted up one side of the sleep mask and reached for the note, skimming it quickly.

  ‘Ergh, too cold to go hiking,’ she mumbled to herself, snapping the mask tight against her eyes again. She let the note fall from her grasp and it fluttered down, landing amongst piles of clothes and magazines on the floor. ‘And too early.’

  27

  ALEX

  Surprisingly, Alex did manage to sleep. In fact, no sooner had he taken a shower and texted Phoebe, than he felt a wave of sleepiness drifting over him. He just had time to lay down and pull the sheet up around his neck, and he drifted off. His last image was that of the Agent sitting across the room on his own bed, reading an army manual.

  Alex groaned, rolled over and promptly fell out of bed with a bone-crunching THUMP!