Destroy Troy Page 3

  ‘Energy level low, BB005. Three minutes maximum remaining,’ Skin said. ‘Accelerate legs!’

  ‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ Napoleon puffed.

  Polyxena was slowing him down. The streets were packed with people. He could easily lose her in the crowd if he wasn’t careful.

  There was another beep, a longer one this time.

  ‘Sorry, BB,’ Skin said. ‘I must reduce armour protection to Grade One. Power is dangerously low.’

  ‘OK, Skin. Got you.’

  ‘And I will have to switch off the translator.’

  ‘Wait a second,’ Napoleon shouted. He stopped and turned to the princess. ‘Stay with me – whatever happens.’

  Polyxena nodded, but looked worried.

  ‘I mean it, Polly. Soon you won’t understand me, and I won’t understand you. But we must stay together.’

  He turned and ran. She yelled something, but her words were already meaningless to him.

  They hurried down alleys and lanes, people pushing against them, running in any direction they could.

  They scrambled up two sets of steep steps, and climbed a long wooden ladder, all the time hearing the shouting and screaming and crying of a city being torn to pieces.

  Soon they were on the city wall, staring out over Troy.

  Polyxena gasped.

  The city was ablaze. Fierce crackling filled the air. Flames licked at the sky. Smoke blocked the moon.

  The smell of destruction pierced the night.

  Napoleon stared too but he knew they had to keep moving.

  Skin was beeping non-stop now.

  ‘Exit ready, BB,’ the professor shouted.

  Napoleon could see the shaft of golden light through the thick smoke. He called to the princess, but her back was turned to him and she didn’t seem to hear.

  ‘She can’t come with you, BB,’ said the professor.

  But Napoleon wouldn’t leave her. He ran towards the princess and grabbed her by the hand.

  ‘If you won’t save yourself,’ he shouted. ‘I will!’ He spun her around and dragged her with him towards the column of light.

  ‘It’s no use,’ Professor Perdu yelled as Napoleon leaped into the golden shaft, pulling Polyxena with him. ‘No use at all.’

  Somehow he knew that the prof was right. Even though he held Polyxena’s hand tight in his, it seemed softer and lighter.

  She entered the shaft of light with him, but she seemed to fade almost at once.

  The last thing he saw before being sucked upwards was her sad, ghostly face – so pale he could see right through it.

  He felt her hand slip out of his.

  ‘Noooooooo!’ he screamed.

  And then she was gone.

  Napoleon was a human rocket.

  As he hurtled upwards in the golden light, the skin on his face stretched until he felt it would tear.

  Just as he was sure his lungs would burst and his head would explode, he found himself wrapped in silence, as though he were floating in a bubble.

  A moment later he rammed into the thick, padded wall of the Tome Tower.

  Napoleon lay on the floor, exhausted, taking deep gulps of air, his eyes still shut, his fists clenched tight.

  ‘Welcome home, Battle Boy.’

  He opened his eyes. Professor Perdu’s face was peering at him from a flickering screen.

  ‘That was your best operation yet,’ she said. ‘There were a few hitches, as usual, but we got around those. And we have heaps of data. All that ancient DNA, all those warrior genes.’ The professor sounded very excited.

  Napoleon stood slowly.

  ‘Well done, BB,’ Skin said. ‘I am sorry we had to leave the princess behind.’

  ‘That’s OK, Skin. I understand. I had to try, though.’

  The chamber hatch opened and Napoleon stepped out into the fresh air.

  Napoleon Augustus Smythe felt the wind behind him as he rode home.

  He was tired and worn out, and aching all over, but he was happy. He was happy because he’d just realised that Polly hadn’t really been lost after all.

  Not completely lost, anyway.

  He’d touched the princess. He’d held her hand, which meant that Skin had collected her DNA. Maybe one day a new Polyxena could be created.

  He might meet her again.

  But there was another reason why Napoleon was smiling. Polly had left him something.

  He looked down at his clenched fist and opened it slowly. Lying in the palm of his hand was a small ring, gold and ivory.

  Polyxena’s hand may have slipped out of his and vanished into the past, but she’d left her ring behind with him.

  He’d found it in his pocket.

  Napoleon closed his fist and pedalled for home.

  The professor was right. This had been his best operation yet.