14
The Last Cricket Lord

Thursday—afternoon

‘Toby, we’re coming with you,’ Georgie said defiantly.

I was glad Rahul, Jay and the girls had decided to come back to the cricket camp. Rahul had hinted yesterday that he would be back to watch the game, but I was surprised to see who he’d brought with him. I’d filled them in on the events of last night and this morning.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ I said. ‘Jim would—’

‘Jim’s not here to say anything, Toby. We’ll just wait in the background, to make sure everything goes OK.’

‘You need us, Toby,’ Jay said.

I looked at Ally. She didn’t appear as enthusiastic as the others.

‘Well, I’m staying here to watch the cricket,’ Rahul said, already gazing out at the action on the field. The Aussie team was 6 for 88 and struggling.

‘What about Jimbo?’ Georgie said, looking across to the players’ viewing room.

‘No way,’ I said. ‘He was already getting a few dirty looks for spending so much time away from the team. We won’t be seeing him for the rest of the day.’

We said goodbye to Rahul, bought some food and drinks from the Hugh Trumble Café and headed upstairs. I noticed Ally was lagging a few paces behind.

‘No wonder Smale is heading interstate for a while,’ Georgie said, following me into my room.

‘Why?’ asked Jay. ‘Wow, you can see the play from here,’ he called, racing over to the huge window.

‘Well, it’s obvious. He wants to lie low for a few days, in case something comes up about Toby.’

‘This is very weird, Toby. Right now you’re supposed to be dead,’ Jay said, staring at me.

‘Only according to one person.’

‘C’mon Toby. Let’s go,’ Jay said. He seemed jumpy. Why was I taking them, I asked myself. People you took with you changed in the new time. They became stubborn. Like Rahul in India and Jay in Hobart.

Georgie was staring at me.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘You don’t want us to come with you, do you?’ she said.

‘It’s not that. It’s dangerous.’

‘Oh, save me, Toby,’ said Jay. ‘Why should you get all the fun? You get invited to the cricket camp. You play on the MCG wicket. You train in the indoor nets and swan around the place with your ID security badge as if you own the joint. And as if that’s not enough, you get to go on these amazing time travel adventures just because you happen to have this gift. Why doesn’t any of that stuff happen to me?’ Jay took a swig from his drink, wiped his mouth and sat down.

‘You finished?’ Ally asked, eyebrows raised.

‘I guess,’ Jay mumbled. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to take you,’ I said again. ‘But stuff happens when I take people. Things change.’

‘We’ll wait here for you.’ The disappointment in Georgie’s voice was obvious.

I looked at my friends, whose heads were bowed. Suddenly they were more important to me than anything else—maybe even Jim. They were my future. All the hours we’d spent together playing cricket, talking, listening to music, just hanging out…I didn’t want to lose that.

‘C’mon,’ I said, taking the Wisden off the shelf. ‘Ally, you find the spot. But remember, we do nothing but give this guy the scorecard. Then we go. It’s a pretty spooky place anyway, and you won’t want to hang around.’ I looked at each of them, saw the excitement flushing their faces. ‘Deal?’

‘DEAL!’ Jay and Georgie cried together.

Opening the Wisden, I passed it across to Ally. Georgie struggled to hide her disappointment.

‘Ally was really quick last time,’ I said lamely. As if it mattered. But it obviously did to Georgie.

‘Should Ally even be coming?’ she said. ‘I mean, remember what happened last time.’

‘Hey,’ Ally said, holding her hands in the air, ‘I have no intention of going. I’m not going through all that again. No offence, Toby, but I’m staying right here.’

‘That’s probably best,’ I said. I felt Georgie’s hand take mine. ‘Ok. Remember—say nothing. We’ll be back before you know it.’

I looked down at the open Wisden. It was the same one Jim, Ally and I had used a few days ago. The page was dog-eared.

‘Find the number 99 on the page, Ally, then go back a couple of scores. We’ve got to arrive before we did last time.’

‘Got it,’ she said. ‘There’s a 5 just above it.’

I stared into the swirl of letters and numbers.

‘Go further up,’ she said. I followed her finger as it moved slightly up the page. ‘There’s a 59. That’s the first number.’

The 5 slowly appeared from the cloudy grey mess around Ally’s finger. ‘Got it,’ I whispered, ‘59. Hang on to the Wisden, Ally.’

We were gone.

The gurgling noise in my ears quickly subsided. ‘Come on,’ I said, moving forward briskly. We could hear the dull roar of the crowd above us, but for once I wasn’t interested in seeing the action. The others jogged behind me.

‘Can we just go and see Bill Lawry bat?’ Jay asked, trying to keep up.

‘No!’ I said firmly, not looking around.

Like last time, there were very few people in the library. An elderly man wearing a dark blue blazer looked over his glasses at us as we entered.

‘We’re Jim’s friends,’ Georgie said, walking past him confidently.

Looking slightly bewildered, he started to fold his newspaper.

‘This way,’ I said, leading the way to the shelves near the back. Grabbing a Wisden from the display, I held it up to the little glass window like Marcus had and waited. Nothing happened.

‘What are you doing?’ Jay hissed. ‘Can’t you just open the door?’

I moved the book closer to the glass so it was almost touching.

‘Toby, the old guy’s coming over,’ Georgie said quietly.

‘Jay, distract the dude in the blue jacket, quick,’ I said. Jay trotted back, saying something about a missing school bag he’d left up here last week.

‘C’mon, Toby,’ Georgie urged.

‘There!’ A small clicking sound was followed by the door easing open a few centimetres.

‘We’ve found it, Jay,’ I called, pushing the door open.

Georgie followed me inside, then Jay a moment later. I shut the door quickly.

‘What do you think?’ I said, turning around to see their reaction. No one answered. Spinning back around, I found myself face to face with Hugo Malchev. He stood only a metre away, smiling, his arms folded.

‘Well, well,’ he said, surveying us with contempt. ‘You’ve brought along some friends, Toby Jones. That was rather foolish. What are we to do with them?’

‘I-I’ve got the scorecard for you. Then we go again,’ I stammered, pulling the card out of my pocket.

‘Do you understand what’s happening here?’ Malchev said, frowning and taking a step towards Georgie. Georgie edged away, bumping into the wall behind her.

‘Not totally.’

‘You see, I am the victim here, not the villain. I was the one who suffered. No one had considered the possibility of a Test match being washed out. Oh no. Not one of these brilliant men who became Cricket Lords. But it was worse than that. That game could have started; should have started. But it didn’t, because someone wanted me dead. Someone wanted me to stay in this crypt for ever. But I escaped. And then I returned for the seventh Test at the same ground, and thus I became a Cricket Lord.’

‘So why don’t you just leave everyone alone now?’ I said. ‘You’ve got what you wanted.’

‘Toby, let’s get out of here,’ Georgie whispered. Jay was looking pale.

‘Revenge, Toby Jones. Perhaps children don’t know about revenge. But if you were left to die in a room without food or water—’

‘But you’re a Cricket Lord,’ I said. I was surprised by the boldness in my voice.

‘Not strictly. I am yet to be appointed, and that can only be done by a Cricket Lord. A living Cricket Lord. In exchange for your life, Toby Jones, Jim Oldfield will appoint me and thus grant my wish.’

‘Where is Jim?’ I asked.

Malchev glared at me. ‘Watching the game from up in the stands somewhere, I imagine.’ He laughed. ‘Now give me the scorecard.’ He thrust out his long, white arm.

I took one last look at the card then placed it on his hand, wondering whether this was better or worse than Phillip Smale owning it.

‘Now, if you want to see the old man one last time, take these two home and come back alone,’ he snarled, waving his arm at Georgie and Jay.

‘C’mon, Toby. Let’s go!’ Jay cried, grabbing my arm.

I looked up at Malchev. ‘Is Jim alive?’ I asked.

‘Well, you’ll have to wait until you return—alone—to find out,’ he sneered.

‘But you’ve killed the other Cricket Lords!’ I shouted. ‘You’ve killed them all.’

Malchev turned away and strode off into the gloom of the chamber. I felt the others near me, clambering in close. Suddenly the room was filled with an awful screeching sound.

‘TOBY!!’ Georgie shrieked, her fingernails digging into my hands.

Hugo Malchev was swooping towards us, his long cloak billowing out behind. I ducked instinctively, but felt his strength suddenly tear me away from the others.

‘THE POEM!’ Jay shouted.

Hands and arms grasped at me as I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to recall two of the lines.

‘Perhaps I should be done with you now!’ I heard Malchev shriek as he smashed into me.

I went sprawling, my head crashing against the stone wall behind me. But my grip on Georgie held firm. Jay landed on top of us both.

What wonders abound, dear boy, don’t fear.

The words came out in a shouted, garbled mess, but they were out. Someone gripped my arm, pulling me away. Did I have Jay? I reached out for him and saw the look of terror on his face. I could feel Georgie breathing hard next to me.

These shimmering pages, never clear.

‘No, you don’t,’ Malchev roared, and wrenched me so hard I thought he’d pull my arm out of its socket. I collapsed onto the floor, my arms swinging back and slapping the stones hard. I’d lost Georgie and Jay.

‘Where are they?’ I gasped, looking around in desperation.

Hugo Malchev laughed.

‘I said, where are they?’ Anger overtook fear. With a strength I didn’t know I had, I leapt to my feet and lunged at him, pinning him briefly against the wall behind us. He pushed me away, sending me flying across the chamber. Then he turned his back on me and walked over to the Wisden cabinets.

‘Your Wisden still glows with the strength of three of you,’ he said. ‘Your friends have not returned to your time. They will be at the eternal cricket match, out on Dismal Swamp.’

‘What swamp? Where? What are you talking about?’ I gasped, trying to get up.

‘I’m sorry, Toby Jones, but I’m going to have to kill you,’ Malchev said, turning to face me. ‘You are a traveller, and thus a potential Cricket Lord. And that can’t be. My life doesn’t begin until I have eliminated all the Cricket Lords and time travellers. And now I have the scorecard, no one else can interfere. I shall just have to trick the old man.’

‘But I’m not a Cricket Lord!’ I screamed at him, hot tears stinging my eyes.

‘No. Not yet you’re not,’ he said quietly.

‘What about my friends? And Jim?’ I turned away slightly and started reciting the first lines of the poem again.

‘I can take you to the Swamp to save your friends,’ Malchev interrupted. ‘It will do you no good to go home, Toby Jones. I’m afraid you’re beyond that now. Look at the Wisden. See how it fades?’

Slowly, I made my way over to where Malchev was standing. A pale yellow light washed over the 1968 Wisden, making it brighter than the others.

‘You can stare at the Wisden and watch your friends die,’ Malchev told me. ‘I have done it myself a few times.’

‘You’re sick,’ I said, spitting the words out.

‘Once I have killed all the travellers and Cricket Lords, no new appointments can ever be made again. And after Jim Oldfield appoints me—believing that he is saving your life by doing so—I will kill him, the last of the Cricket Lords. Then I will rule the game for eternity.’

‘There’s one thing you don’t have,’ I said, staring up into his ugly face. ‘Father Time.’

‘What would you know about Father Time?’ he scoffed, shaking his head. But the fleeting doubt that crossed his face told me I’d hit on a weak spot.

‘Do you want your friends to live?’ he asked, quickly regaining his composure and holding his arm out to me. I looked through my tears at his grim face and took his hand. There was nothing else I could do.

‘As much as you want Father Time,’ I said boldly.

‘Oh, I doubt that, Toby Jones.’