Anthony Horowitz - Raven_s Gate

“So the gate was destroyed!” Matt exclaimed.

Professor Dravid shook his head. “The stones were destroyed, not the gate,” he said. “How can I explain it to you? It’s like an idea. If you write something down on a sheet of paper and then burn the paper, do you burn the idea? Of course not! The stones are gone, but the gate is still in place.”

Richard sighed. “Let me get this straight, Professor,” he said. “A very long time ago, the world was ruled by evil creatures called the Old Ones. However, five kids appeared and threw them out. These kids then built a barrier, which came to be known as Raven’s Gate. Unfortunately the stones that marked the gate were knocked down by medieval peasants who didn’t know any better. But it doesn’t matter that much because the gate is still there after all. Is that about it?”

“Your sarcasm does you no credit, Mr Cole,” Dravid replied. “But you have summed up what I said more or less accurately.”

“Miss Ashwood knew about this?” Matt said.

“Yes. As I explained to you, we share our knowledge. We have sworn not to reveal it. That’s why she couldn’t tell you anything when you met.”

“But you’ve told us,” Matt went on. “You said that the main reason for the Nexus was to help me with something I have got to do. But I’m still not clear what that is – or what any of this has got to do with me.”

“I think you know.”

“No!” Matt looked him in the eye. “You’re wrong.”

“Then you must meet the Nexus. The other members are on their way back to London. They’ll be here tomorrow night. I’ll look after you until then.”

“Forget it,” Richard said. “We’ve got day-return tickets. We’re going back to York this evening.”

“That’s the last thing you must do. It’s vital you don’t go anywhere near Lesser Malling.” He turned again to Matt. “I don’t want to frighten you any more than you have been already, but I believe you are in terrible danger.”

“Why?”

“I’ve told you why Raven’s Gate was built. It was a barrier between two worlds and it was closed and locked. But for many centuries there have been people who have been trying to open it again. Of course, they haven’t found it easy. They’ve had to develop special knowledge… special powers.”

“You mean magic,” Matt said.

“We are just two days away from the start of Roodmas,” Dravid said. “It begins at sunset on the thirtieth of April. It is one of the most important days in the witches’ calendar. A day when dark powers are at their strongest. When black sabbath is celebrated and evil has its way.”

“Mrs Deverill…” Matt began.

“I have absolutely no doubt that she and the other villagers of Lesser Malling are involved in some sort of black magic. Of course you will sneer, Mr Cole. But black magic is still practised today all over the world. Yorkshire has a long history of witchcraft – and although the witches of medieval times are gone, their descendants live on.

“A black sabbath on Roodmas will require three ingredients, the same as you will find in any such ceremony. The first is ritual. Matt has already described the whispers that he heard. The second is fire. You saw the dogs rise out of the flames. But the third, of course, is blood. They must have a sacrifice, and the best sacrifice of all would be that of a child…”

Matt stood up. All the colour had drained from his face. “They brought me there to kill me,” he said.

“I’m afraid so.”

“We should go to the police!” Richard exclaimed. “You’re talking about a bunch of lunatics, and the whole lot of them ought to be locked up…”

“Matt has already been to the police,” Dravid reminded him. “Two of them ignored him. The one who didn’t, died.”

“Why me?” Matt asked. “Why did they choose me? Why couldn’t it be someone else?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Dravid said quietly. He stopped and laid a hand gently on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it must be for you to accept all this. But you’ll have time. I’ll put you in a hotel tonight. The Nexus will take care of the cost. And from now on, we’ll look after you.”

“Why? What do you want from me?”

“We just want you to be safe.”

“I wish it wasn’t so cold,” Matt said.

The three of them left the study. They went along the corridor past a row of glass cases. Wax figurines of primitive people stared out at them. The sound of their footsteps echoed against the ceiling, flapping about the air like invisible birds. Halfway down the main staircase, Dravid stopped. “The keys!” he said. “They’re in my jacket! I’ll need them to let us out.”

Hastily he stumbled back up the staircase and along the corridor. Matt watched him. It was only now that he realized how vast the museum was. Professor Dravid was just a tiny figure, crossing a balcony high above them. They saw the door of the study open and the light go on.

“Listen, Matt,” Richard said. “This is all just a bad dream. Nothing can happen to you.”

Matt stepped back from him. “You still don’t believe it!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah – sure I believe in it. Old Ones and gates and witches and blood sacrifice! Look around you, for heaven’s sake! There are rockets going to Mars. We’ve got satellites beaming phone conversations all around the world. They’ve unlocked the genetic code. And you’ve still got throwbacks like Dravid going on about devils and demons. Well take it from me, Matt. These five kids saving the world with magical powers don’t exist.”

“Of course they exist,” Matt said. And suddenly he knew. It was very simple. “I’m one of them.”

There was a sound. Something invisible had been thrown – or had flown – through the air. Matt and Richard heard someone cry out and looked back at the stairs. Sanjay Dravid had appeared again. He was walking slowly, his footsteps uneven, as if he was drunk or drugged. His hand was clasped to his neck. He stopped and let his hand fall and, with a gasp of horror, Matt saw a terrible wound – a gaping, horizontal line, perhaps cut with a sword – across the professor’s neck. Blood curtained down, soaking into his jacket and shirt. Dravid raised his hands feebly. He tried to speak. Then he toppled forward on to his face and lay still.

Richard swore. Matt tore his eyes away from the motionless figure and looked at the main doors on the other side of the gallery. It was colder than ever. Even without seeing it, he knew there was danger all around.

And the doors were locked.

For what seemed like an eternity Richard and Matt stood where they were, staring at the still figure lying at the top of the stairs. Blood was spreading around Dravid’s head. But there was no sign of an attacker. The museum was as empty and silent as it had been when they first came in. And there was something else. The air was icy and seemed to have thickened. It had a white, smoky quality, like a bad photograph.

Richard was the first to recover. “Wait here!” he said, then bounded forward towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Matt called after him.

“The keys!”

He took the steps two at a time, not wanting to get any closer to Dravid but knowing there was no other way. The blood had reached the edge of the first step and was already trickling down. Richard knelt down beside the body, trying not to look at the horrible wound. Then suddenly Dravid opened his eyes. Miraculously he was still alive.

“Five…” The single word was all he could manage.

“Don’t say anything. I’ll get help.” Richard didn’t know what else to say. He was lying. The professor was far beyond help.