‘All right,’ said Ma, in hushed tones. ‘We need something of his, to establish a connection.’
Pa reached inside the breast pocket of his waistcoat, then grunted in surprise. ‘He must have taken back his card.’
Vally groaned inwardly. The paper bird was all they had left of the Obscurosmith, and they would never be able to catch it.
‘Wait.’ Pearl hopped off her chair, ran from the room, and dashed back in with a liquorice button between her fingers. ‘Is this OK?’
Eddie frowned. ‘You got that from a stranger?’
‘I wasn’t going to eat it, Ed,’ said Pearl witheringly.
‘That will do nicely. Pass the candle, Pearlie, while you’re up.’ Ma set the liquorice in the centre of the phosphorescent circle. Taking a sprig of dried lavender from the folds of her shawl, she held it over the candle and let the ashes fall on the sweet. It was a more theatrical magic than Pa’s, more dependent on gesture and ritual, but that was what Ma thought magic ought to be, so that was what worked for her. She blew out the candle, and began to chant in a deep, eerie voice.
‘Across the town, through walls of stone,
We call to you we name, alone,
With all our powers now combined:
If you can hear, show us a sign.’
‘Now all together,’ she said. ‘Martin –!’
‘Magnus,’ said Pa.
‘Magnus Maximillian,’ they all chanted slowly. ‘Magnus Maximillian! Magnus Maximillian!’
The circle flared to startling brilliance. The liquorice hopped up and spun in the air. The Coles reared back from the table with exclamations of astonishment. Ivy grabbed Vally’s hand.
Then the glowing ring vanished altogether, leaving the paper blank. The liquorice fell back to the table.
‘Hello?’ Ma said.
In the dim silence, Eddie and Linda exchanged looks. Beyond the flat, the evening customers tramped about the Arcade. The horses jangled with their cabs down Bourke Street. Several perfect moments for something to happen went past. Nothing did.
‘We’d better do it again,’ Ma said, sounding less confident now. ‘Hands on the table. Across the town, through walls of stone …’
‘But he did give us a sign,’ Linda said. ‘He heard you – he just didn’t talk.’
‘Maybe we caught him in the bath.’ Ivy leaned towards the circle, raising her voice a little. ‘Sorry, if you’re in the bath!’
Things continued not to happen.
‘Pity,’ said Eddie. ‘Got to study, if you’ll excuse me.’
One by one, they trickled out, leaving Pa, Pearl and Vally behind. Vally’s disappointment must have shown, because his father smiled at him in sympathy. ‘Never mind, eh?’ He stood and let Ebenezer out of the kitchen. ‘Don’t you two worry about Maximillian. I’ll sort him out.’
Then he left as well, with the dog and the evening paper.
‘I really thought it would work,’ said Pearl, crestfallen. ‘Why didn’t he say anything?’
‘Maybe Ma doesn’t know what he looks like well enough to imagine him. Or maybe she never believed it would work in the first place.’ Gesturing for her to follow, Vally stood and took his jacket off the polar bear. ‘The only reliable thing about magic is that it’s unreliable. There must be a book somewhere in the Arcade that can help us to …’
He trailed off as he opened the front door. There, on the threshold, stood a fine top hat. Had one of the staff members brought back Pa’s hat? No; that was on top of the bear.
‘Whose is that?’ Pearl wondered aloud.
A hand slid out from under it. Vally almost knocked his sister down behind him.
The disembodied hand reached out of the hat and lifted it, as if in greeting. But instead of stopping when the arm was fully extended, the hat continued to rise. One long leg kicked free, then another. The hatband stretched like rubber, and out popped a tall man with a goatee.
‘Don’t look so surprised,’ he drawled. ‘You called me.’
‘Mr Maximillian?’ Vally glanced over his shoulder into the flat. ‘But that’s not really your name, is it?’
The stranger lifted his hat, gave it a shake and caught a silver-topped cane as it fell out. ‘One of many.’
‘We didn’t ask you to drop in,’ said Pearl, whose face was set in an intense frown. ‘Why didn’t you say anything in our circle?’
‘I prefer to talk face to face.’ He tapped the stem of his cane with his fingers. ‘And speaking of faces, Miss Cole, you’d better hope the wind doesn’t change, or yours will stay like that.’
A sudden breeze blew her hair back. Behind her scowl, Pearl squeaked in horror. She tried to open her mouth, but her face kept forcing itself back into the same expression.
‘Stop that,’ Vally said. ‘Stop all of this.’
The man shrugged. ‘If you insist.’ He ran his hand along his cane, rapidly clicking a few of the little wheels into place, and twirled it in a circle.
Cole’s Book Arcade went impossibly silent. Beside the lift, a young lady balanced on one foot, frozen in mid-stride. Down on the first floor, a shelving-lad teetered on a ladder, a stack of books hanging motionless in the air as they tumbled from his arms.
‘You know what I meant,’ Vally said, though he took the chance to close the door to the apartment. ‘We want our Arcade put back to rights. And our Pa.’
Magnus Maximillian spun his cane the other way. The Book Arcade came to life again, and Pearl’s face unfroze. ‘There. Good as new.’ He turned and strode away.
‘It is not as good as new!’ Pearl scrambled after him, Vally on her heels. ‘You didn’t give Pa what he asked for. You don’t get our Arcade.’
‘I gave you the child. Just like the picture, he said.’
‘Pa asked you for our Ruby,’ Vally said. ‘Our Ruby would have recognised us.’
‘There’s no pleasing some people,’ sighed Magnus Maximillian, without turning around.
‘We could …’ Vally began, but the rest of the words wouldn’t come out. They seemed to be swimming in his stomach. He tried again. ‘We could make a deal to buy the Arcade back from you.’
There it was. His own devil’s bargain. His head was in the lion’s mouth.
‘I’m tired of these little one-off deals,’ said Mr Maximillian lightly. ‘They’re dead ends. And I’ve already got what I wanted.’ He waved at the Arcade. ‘Just as well. I was starting to tire of playing the same old song. I need a challenge.’
The word play pulled a thought from the back of Vally’s mind. It was something Pa had written. In the Condensed Library of the Future, consisting of the hundred best books on the choicest subjects, one of those must be a game book, for the love of play is a beautiful part of human nature …
‘What about a game, then?’
Maximillian stopped still. Vally’s heart banged against his ribs, as if to punish him.
‘A game?’ He turned to the Cole children with hawk-bright eyes. ‘What kind of game?’
Vally had to haul the words up from inside him again. They were afraid to come out in the wrong order. ‘If you win, you can have the Arcade.’
‘Your father already gave me the Arcade.’
Pearl looked at Vally, and Vally at Pearl. Vally hoped his sister would have the sense to keep her mouth shut this time. Yet he also found himself wishing she knew the exact right thing to say, because he did not.
‘I think the old place and I will get along beautifully, once its old master is gone.’ Magnus Maximillian gave the balcony railing a sweeping caress. ‘Curious building, this. Although I’ll have to streamline it a bit, once he’s all cleared out. Rainbows are all very well for Cole’s Kiddie Funfair, but Maximillian’s Impossible Emporium ought to be more sophisticated.’ He twiddled the wheels on the stem of his cane. The warm brown wood of the railing turned black, as if his fingers were bleeding ink. The handsome wooden floorboards turned to cold black tiles around his feet. The plant-like curlicues of the wrought-iron balust
rades shifted and bent into a mesmerising pattern of sharp angles. ‘How does this look?’
Like a vampire’s bathroom, Vally did not say. ‘You’re getting ahead of yourself.’
‘Am I?’ said Maximillian carelessly, but the furnishings around him returned to their usual design. ‘I’m afraid if you have nothing more to offer, I have nothing to lose by turning you down.’
‘All right,’ said Pearl. ‘You can have all our memories of it, too.’
‘Your memories?’ His nose wrinkled. ‘They might have sentimental value to you, but that has little to do with –’ With a small jolt, he cut himself off. A wild thrill of greed crossed his face. ‘Hang about. All your memories?’
‘She didn’t say that,’ said Vally. ‘She means her memories of the Arcade and my memories of the Arcade only. You can’t have anyone else’s memories, and you can’t take our memories of the seaside or Cousin Lily’s house, or anything like that.’
‘Or our brains,’ said Pearl.
‘What could I possibly do with your brains?’ He made it sound as if there were so many horrible things to do with a child’s brain that he was spoilt for choice.
Vally set his jaw. ‘What could you possibly do with our memories?’
‘You wouldn’t believe the things people demand from me. Give me happiness. Make my enemies miserable. Those don’t grow on trees, you know. I have to find them somewhere, and at no small expense. But memories of a childhood in a place like this – you’ve got some powerful stuff in those little heads, haven’t you? Real high-grade joy and top-notch sorrow …’ He made a grasping motion towards Pearl. ‘Can’t you give me some now?’
She pulled back. ‘No!’
‘Not even to check the quality of the merchandise?’
‘Not even,’ said Vally. ‘You can do that in your Insanity Warehouse.’
‘Impossible Emporium, Valentine. Keep up.’
Vally didn’t remember telling the strange man his name, but he tried not to show his surprise. ‘Why do you even want our Book Arcade? What did Pa ever do to you?’
‘I assure you both, this is nothing personal against your father. He’s done well for himself – that’s admirable. I simply don’t have the patience to spend twenty years building an empire like this. Especially not when this one is right here, and so much to my liking. Attractive urban location, distinctive character, and so treasured by so many people …’
‘What if the customers don’t like your Emporium?’ Pearl asked.
‘I’m sure enough of them will,’ replied Magnus Maximillian, like a cat contemplating an aviary full of finches. ‘Some people are intrigued by the things they find … creepy.’
It was how Pearl had described him in the Fernery on Monday – and it made Vally wonder whether the ghost of a hanged murderer might have been less dangerous than this man. Pearl was right. The wagtail was a spy.
Magnus Maximillian straightened his cuffs. ‘I suppose if you won, you would keep the Arcade?’
‘And all the people and things that belong in it,’ said Pearl. ‘And don’t bring back all the things we’ve ever sold, or stuff the whole city in here at once. We want the Arcade back to its usual self. No tricks.’
‘And you’ll stop draining away our Pa, too,’ said Vally.
‘And we keep our memories.’
‘And your dear departed sister, I expect?’
‘No,’ Vally said. ‘Leave her in peace. You didn’t give her back properly the last time and you shouldn’t be trying to do it at all.’
‘Just your father, your memories and your Book Arcade, then.’ A golden Arcade medallion flashed between his fingers, back and forth. ‘I find poker and chess rather cliché, I’m afraid …’
Maximillian was losing interest. In a desperate effort to keep him on the hook, Vally said, ‘It can be any game you like.’
‘Any game I like?’ He said it as if each word was uniquely delicious. ‘How about Race Around the World? Or I Spy Goodbye? Or we could play a little game I call …’ He leaned in towards them, the medallion in his open palm. ‘Pearl and Valentine Disappear Forever.’
As his thumb passed over it, the token vanished.
Vally bit his lip and glanced at his sister. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Maximillian laughed, with such sudden force that they both jumped. ‘I’m joking! That game is no fun. I only get one turn.’
‘We wouldn’t agree to it anyway,’ said Pearl. ‘We’ll only play if you agree not to rig it.’
‘Boo,’ said Magnus Maximillian, like a bored heckler.
‘You said you wanted a challenge,’ Vally said. ‘Give us a decent chance.’
‘And don’t cheat,’ said Pearl. ‘If you cheat, you forfeit.’
‘You drive a hard bargain.’ Fidgeting absent-mindedly with the little wheels of his cane, Maximillian surveyed the Arcade. ‘I’ll take those odds. Only for the novelty, mind you. Are those all your terms?’
Were they? Vally exchanged looks with Pearl again. No cheating, no brain theft, playing for double or nothing. He gave her the slightest nod. She returned it.
‘Then here are mine.’ Magnus Maximillian whipped his cane up under one arm. Without warning, he clapped a gloved hand to one each of Pearl and Vally’s shoulders and pushed them towards the railing. ‘We shall begin tomorrow night at eight o’clock.’ He pointed out a rainbow on the upper gallery. As they watched, the crimson band began to shrink, fading from left to right like a fan snapping closed. When it was gone, the orange did the same. ‘You will have, let’s see … one plus two plus three plus four …’
Theatrically, he raised the corresponding number of fingers as he counted. As he passed ten, they kept unfolding from his hands – an extra five, another six. Vally shuddered.
‘… plus seven …’ Maximillian looked down at his hideous multitude of fingers, and shook his hands into a blur. When he stopped, they had returned to normal. ‘You’ll have twenty-eight hours to play seven rounds.’
Vally did the maths. Twenty-eight hours from eight o’clock on Friday would mean … ‘We’ll finish at midnight. And that’s not a cliché?’
‘No, young sir – that is tradition.’ Yellow, green, blue and indigo faded to the grey of old bones. ‘Lose a round, and you’re out. If this happens before the final round is done …’ The last band, violet, shrank to half its length, to a quarter, to nothing. ‘I win.’
With a wave of his hand, the rainbow fanned out again. Magnus Maximillian resumed his promenade of the top floor balcony, so the Coles had to keep chasing him.
‘Why seven?’ asked Pearl.
‘Because there are seven colours. Because there are seven Coles. Because it’s odd, and looks sinister.’
‘No it doesn’t,’ said the Constant Irritation. ‘I don’t think sevens are scary at all.’
Vally tried to elbow her in the ribs, to make her shut up, but he missed.
‘Have you not been concentrating on your Latin classes, Miss Cole?’ Magnus Maximillian traced a seven in the air. ‘I only meant that it faces left.’
‘And when we do win,’ said Vally, ‘you’ll give us our Arcade back and stop hurting our Pa?’
‘If you win … certainly.’ Maximillian extended both hands for them to shake, one arm over the other.
‘No crossies,’ Pearl said.
‘Forgive me. Old habits, you know.’ He grinned, and uncrossed his arms. Something in Vally was drawn to that smile, like a fish to a light in the deep. Then his left hand was clasped tight. Maximillian’s grip was hot through the glove, as unbearable and unnatural as the chill of Ruby’s copy in the storeroom.
Before the Coles had time to wrench free, Magnus Maximillian let go of Vally’s left hand and Pearl’s right. He tossed up his cane and snatched it out of the air. ‘Any game I like! What a treat.’ Cat-like, he hopped up onto the balcony railing, and flicked two of the wheels on the stem of his cane. ‘Goodnight, Miss Cole; Master Cole.’
And with a tip of his hat, he
stepped off.
Pearl and Vally ran to the edge. But there were no crashes, no screams. Down below, the customers went on reading and chatting by soft gaslight. The man had vanished.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE GAME HE LIKED
The Arcade’s condition didn’t get any worse that night. It didn’t get any better, either. Nor did Pa.
‘Cole, I am putting my foot down,’ said Ma on Friday morning. ‘You shall telephone Doctor Simmons today, go to bed, and rest properly. You’re becoming a hermit.’
Pearl had a fleeting fantasy of her father shrinking down and crawling into a shell, with only his beard poking out. Then she remembered a hermit was not a hermit crab, but a kind of mad old man in the wilderness.
She looked over at Vally, who raised his brows. It was bizarre to be sharing a secret with Vally. He was the most serious of her siblings, and the most strange to her. He could be cold sometimes, and never more than when he called her a constant irritation. He was too old to be her playmate like Ivy, but not old enough to look after her, like Linda. Ruby had always been between them, showing different sides of herself with each. When she’d died, they had both pulled back from the void she left behind – Vally leaning one way, towards Ed, and Pearl reaching the other way, for Ivy.
Now they had something in common, and the burden of it was dark and strange and heavy. Pa knew part of it, but how could they tell him the rest? He didn’t like betting when the wager was a penny. He would be cross if they told him they were betting his life, his Arcade and part of themselves on a game with the Obscurosmith. Or worse – and in fact, more likely – he’d be disappointed. He’d worry. No, they’d agreed: Pa was not to find out.
It was the longest Friday of Pearl’s life. Perhaps if Vally hadn’t gone to school, they might have passed the time preparing for what was ahead of them – but he had, so they couldn’t. The doctor came and said Pa would likely recover in a few days. Thoughts of the paper wagtail kept fluttering across her mind. Even inside her head, she couldn’t catch it and hold it still.
The Grandest Bookshop in the World Page 6
