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.Harold could see Rath ahead, on his stomach, pulling a tangle of roots aside.“Rath! How much farther do we have to go?”“We must be nearly in the middle of the greenhouse.Stay close to me.”It was getting hard to breathe.That sweet smell had become a sickening stench.Harold’s stomach began to churn.He had to keep going, a bit farther, pushing himself forward to a rusty column that sat upon an even rustier plinth.Rath helped Harold to his feet.“So far so good.We could stay down here and hide, but that way we won’t know what’s going on.Shall we get a better view? Up we go!” Rath started climbing, his feet disappearing up a knotted rope that dangled down among the plants.How high did the rope go? To the roof? He couldn’t climb all the way up there! But then he heard scuffles, and the rope stilled.He grasped the rope tightly and pulled himself up, reaching Rath who was standing on a wooden platform amidst the plant tops.“Well!” said Rath.“You could see the whole greenhouse from here once, but now it’s just a sea of green.What’s Bassan growing, I wonder? It never used to look like this.”Harold didn’t dare stand.The circular platform was built around a tall pole that stretched up to the greenhouse roof.The plants had climbed up here too, winding their way towards shoots and foliage covering the beams above, then curling down around another rope that hung just out of Rath’s reach.The platform wobbled as Rath approached a broken rail.“Watch out, Rath,” whispered Harold.“The whole thing’s going to collapse if we’re not careful.”“Oh, it’s always been like that,” said Rath.“But you’re right, it’s in a bad way.I don’t expect Bassan ever comes up here, do you? Or anyone else by the looks of it.I used to climb the second rope right to the top, crawl along the beams, help mend the roof or the glass, great—”The sound of voices.Rath dropped to his knees, and then crawled over to Harold.“There’s someone over by the door where we came in,” he whispered.“We’d better split up.I’ll go down.You’ll be safer up here.Keep an eye on the side paths, and only come down if you have to.”Rath winked at him, then disappeared over the side of the platform.Harold crouched down, listening to the voices that floated up.But this wasn’t the guard!“Just over here, Silva, that’s right.And there it is, the prize of my collection.A magnificent specimen, don’t you agree?”Bassan! And Silva? What was she doing here? Where was Rath? Could he hear them too?“Oh no, it’s perfectly friendly.I’m convinced it enjoys the sound of a human’s voice.Go on.Whisper something to it.You’ll feel it shiver if you lean against the trunk.A most unusual sensation.There’s nothing else like it on the island, I can tell you!”He wasn’t going to stay up here.He climbed over the edge of the platform and landed on the soft earth with a bump.He’d thought they’d come to the end of the path, but now he saw that it split into a circle around the plinth, leading off to the left and right, as well as straight towards Bassan and Silva.Rath must be just ahead of him somewhere.He crawled along as quietly as he could.The sickly smell returned, stronger than ever.There was whispering.A rattle of tools in a bucket then a sharp swish, a splintering crunch, and a high scream.Harold scuttled forward.Rath’s feet stood on the path before him.“Ah!” shouted Bassan.“So this is where my intruder is hiding.Look who it is! The notorious Rath! By the stars above, my man, you’ll be sorry you ever set foot in the Albatorium.Meet my strangler fig!”Harold peered out between the leaves.Bassan raised his ax and chopped into the fig again.Vines shot out, trapping Rath’s legs.Harold strained forward to see Silva’s twisted body pinned against the fig, her arms flailing as the fig wound itself around her, poking into her eyes and mouth.“Help! Help!” yelled Rath, fighting off the powerful vines.“Oho!” laughed Bassan, holding his ax high.“I’ll give you help, I will!” He plunged the ax into the fig once more, then strode over to Rath, bent down, and whispered: “You stole something from me today, didn’t you? Where is it? Tell me, and I’ll let you go.”“Here!” gasped Rath.“Under me.In the bag!”Bassan kicked him over onto his front.He fumbled with a key hanging from his belt, then took a knife from his pocket, and cut through vine and sack.“Got you!” whispered Bassan, holding up the cup.Then he turned to Rath.“And how is life on the run, my old friend? Been enjoying yourself since I set you free?”“You?” said Rath, scrambling to his feet.“It was you who unlocked the door that night?”“Yes, Rath.Me! And off you went, just like I hoped.You were always the ‘good’ apprentice, weren’t you? Never disappointed anyone until the day you were found guilty of murder.And now you’ll be found guilty again, won’t you? If you survive today, that is, because,” and Bassan stood up and moved slowly towards the ax, “my little fig is very well trained, you know.He doesn’t like strangers.He doesn’t like greenhouses either.And best of all, he absolutely detests oaks!”Bassan stuck his knife into his belt, grabbed the ax, and swung it high into the fig’s trunk above him.There was a slight shiver, a heavy shudder, and then the ground shook as fig roots poured from the earth beneath, slapping Rath onto his back, and throwing Harold onto the path.Rath had disappeared [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]