Free Phantom by Thomas Tessier Page B

was more
like fifteen or twenty feet to the ground-no, he told himself, that
can't be right. He was letting his imagination get the better of
him. Still, it was obviously enough of a drop to break bones. Don't
think about it.
    What he had to do was this: reach out in one
swift but sure movement, grab the top of the wall and pull himself
onto it. The most dangerous part would come when he let go of the
tree with his other hand and swung it across to the wall. Then all
that would hold his body over the gap would be one hand and the
toes of his sneakers pressing hard against the slippery suckers.
One way or another, Ned was about to find out how strong he
was.
    But he almost didn't. The first time he
gripped the top of the wall a brick tore loose in his hand. Ned let
it fall at once and clung fiercely to the tree, waiting for the
surprise, the shock to die down in him. For some reason he had
given no thought to the possibility that the wall itself, that
massive presence, might be unreliable. Now his whole calculation
was thrown in doubt. Question: What would Ken Holt, boy detective,
do if he were in this situation? Answer: Try again.
    Ned did, and this time the bricks held. The
rough edge of the masonry dug up the skin on his forearm, causing
Ned to regret that he hadn't worn long sleeves. He barely paused,
however, before letting go of the tree. His upper body arched
across the open space, his toes pulled free of the suckers and
pushed off, and after a brief scrambling flurry Ned was lying face
down on top of the wall. A little sloppy, he thought, but who
cares? He felt as if he had just conquered Everest, and for a while
he didn't move, enjoying the sensation of having arrived where he
was.
    When Ned finally looked
around to survey the new territory, what he saw took his breath
away. Lynnhaven's old spa was situated in a gentle hollow at the
top of the hill, and Ned was evidently perched on the outer wall's
highest point, for the entire inner acreage sloped gradually away,
giving him a disturbingly good view of the place. The main
building, a grotesque double-winged structure with turrets, stood
on the far ground several hundred yards away from Ned, looking like
the shattered castle of some demented and defeated prince. The vast
expanse in between was a jungle of choked and twisted vegetation,
broken up by an astonishing network of lower inner walls. It was a
honeycomb, a maze—but no, as Ned studied the scene more carefully
he could see definite patterns emerging. This was no random piece
of work. Here the walls were built to form an equilateral triangle,
there a perfect circle and, further over, a rectangle. Other shapes
suggested themselves to his eyes, but in many places the growth of
stunted trees and layered vines made it impossible for Ned to be
sure. It was clear, however, that all the inner walls were
connected, forming a multitude of geometric figures running to the
outer wall in places and also right to the main building. To Ned's
mind the whole remarkable panorama conjured up images of forgotten
history and legend—a small medieval town with its royal palace,
say, or an ancient Inca stronghold and sacred temple. Strange
people once dwelled here, and perhaps strange creatures too, for
which there were no names. Now all were gone and dead—yes, that was
it. There would be death
here . Even from outside the walls Ned had
sensed it, the afterglow, the radiation of death that lingers so
long.
    But it didn't bother him now. Ned felt as if
he had just set foot on a new continent, and he all but trembled
with the excitement of it. This was more, much more than the ruin
he had expected to find. It was a puzzle on a monumental scale, and
it raised Ned's exploration to a dramatic level of challenge.
    Not far from where he sat, another wall
offered access to the interior. When he reached it Ned was pleased
to find that the inner walls were only about eight feet tall, a
height much easier to cope with. Taking care, he could