For Amelie, my dazzling star. And Amanda, who once owned two cats from the City of Clouds.
C.B.
Text copyright © Cerrie Burnell, 2017
Illustrations copyright © Laura Ellen Anderson, 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews and article. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.
First published in the United Kingdom by Scholastic Children’s Books, and imprint of Scholastic Ltd, 2017.
This hardcover edition published by Sky Pony Press, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available on file.
Jacket illustration © Laura Ellen Anderson
Jacket design by Kate Gartner
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-3613-9
EBook ISBN: 978-1-5107-3614-6
Printed in the United States of America
Once there was a girl called Harper who had a rare musical gift. She heard songs on the wind, rhythms on the rain, and hope in the beat of a butterfly’s wing. Harper could play every instrument she ever picked up, without learning a single note. But sometimes late at night, alone with her cat, Midnight, Harper dreamed of the cloudian, an instrument sewn from silver-lined clouds, and she wondered where its magic might lead her.
Chapter One
A MIST OF MARVELS AND MYSTERY
High in the City of Clouds, on the fourteenth floor of the Tall Apartment Block, Harper was dreaming of snow. It was a dream of a gleaming whiteness that stole every sound from the world and covered the streets in silence. Not even a drop of rain could be heard. Then suddenly, through Harper’s dream came a slow, rumbling purr.
She blinked a sea-gray eye open and saw her precious cat nuzzling up to her face. “Good morning, Midnight,” she yawned, then Harper sat bolt upright in bed, her ears searching for sounds. But there was nothing. No patter of raindrops, no rickety trams, no splashing puddles. It was just like the quiet of her dream.
Harper darted to the window and pulled back the velveteen curtains. A bright glow swept into the room, making her blink. The entire city was coated in a sleek white mist, as strange and lovely as winter.
“No wonder I dreamed of snow.” Harper smiled, scooping Midnight up so he could see, too. “It’s a mist of marvels and mystery,” she whispered, her heart beginning to skip, for a mist like this could only mean one thing: the Circus of Dreams was in town!
Harper set Midnight down, seized her small golden harp, and plucked three sharp notes—the secret signal to summon her friends. Then she dashed into the kitchen, pulling on her clothes and grabbing her beautiful Scarlet Umbrella.
Ten minutes later, Harper’s little kitchen was a muddle of excitement and instruments as her friends from the Tall Apartment Block piled in. There was Nate Nathanielson, a boy who only saw darkness or light and who had a majestic wolf, Smoke, at his side. Ferdie, a boy with a serious scarf and serious love of poetry. His younger sister, Liesel, a girl with bright eyes and hair so tangled it was home to a dove. Isabella Lucas from the seventh floor. And whirling around in the middle of the kitchen was Harper’s Great Aunt Sassy, with whom Harper lived.
When everyone had a warm cup of lavender syrup, Great Aunt Sassy brandished her purple umbrella, almost knocking Ferdie over, and hushed everyone. Harper gulped away a giggle and stood up tall.
“The Circus of Dreams is here again!” she announced.
A gleeful cheer went up from her friends, for they’d all visited the Circus of Dreams: a flock of floating tents held in the air by magic, the very place where Harper had been born.
“Harper, you’ll get to see your parents.” Isabella beamed, swinging her into a hug.
A warm glow seemed to fill the kitchen, and Harper felt quivery with happiness. But one little thought still nagged at her, like a single snowflake on a warm summer’s day.
“What shall I do?” she whispered to Midnight. He meowed gently, his green eyes glittering like two tiny emeralds, and gave Harper a wink. Carefully, she opened her Scarlet Umbrella and floated toward the ceiling. “There’s something else we need to do,” Harper explained as everyone turned to gaze at her.
Nate, who had been listening quietly, gave a gleaming smile and said brightly, “We’ve got to help the Wild Conductor win back his place in the circus.”
Harper nodded and a chorus of agreement echoed through the kitchen. “You’re right, my darling girl,” cooed Great Aunt Sassy, swigging her lavender syrup. “Why don’t you children go to the circus and I will organize an evening meeting on the rooftop at seven o’clock sharp!”
In a rush of laughter and scampering feet, the children grabbed their instruments, clattering down the stairwells and out into the City of Clouds.
The streets were cloaked in swirls of white mist, which clung to them like cloud dust and blotted out the street signs. But Nate was a boy who had many skills, and one of them was finding his way through the dark as easily as if it were daylight. This was really no different. As he and Smoke moved through the city, he played a tune on the harmonica so his friends could hear and follow the way. Liesel, who had been practicing, picked up the melody on her shining violin. Ferdie joined on his ever-faithful button accordion, and Isabella clicked a set of castanets, while Harper added harmonies on her piccolo.
Then they came upon a sight that stole their breath away: the red and gold stripes of a circus tent hovering high in the air, a rope ladder trailing down to the ground just waiting for them to climb.
Isabella, who had never been to the Circus of Dreams before, squeezed Harper’s hand. “It really is magical,” she said, awed.
“Yes,” Harper replied, smiling, “it really is.” And she placed her foot on the first rung of the ladder, climbing up toward a flock of flying tents that felt like home.
Chapter Two
THE CIRCUS OF SECRETS
Inside the red-and-gold tent, the children found their old friend the lightning-leader waiting for them. Blue lightning crackled in her hair, making her look like a wild storm. She pulled aside the curtains at the back of the tent and, with a sly wink, ushered them through.
The five friends gazed at a city of brightly colored tents pitched upon solid clouds. The umbrellas that held the clouds in the air had been disguised to look like hot-air balloons. But the children knew that this was a circus of secrets and magic—not hot air.
“Which way do we go?” murmured Isabella, staring at the many little spun-sugar bridges that linked the tents together.
“Wherever you like!” squealed Liesel, hurrying off to find her friend Rat—a boy with rodent’s teeth and a troupe of dazzling Rat Dancers.
Ferdie decided to visit Faydra the fortune-teller and find out if he really was going to become a world-famous poet after all. Smoke at once began nudging Nate toward a tent holding an entire chocolate forest.
Harpe
r took Isabella’s hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you my favorite tents,” she said, giving Isabella a knowing look.
You see, Harper was the only child ever to have escaped from the Circus of Dreams and the clutches of Othello Grande, the ringmaster. Her parents had managed to smuggle her out on the night of the fearsome storm. So whenever Harper visited the circus, she had to pretend to be an ordinary girl enchanted by its many wonders.
Harper led Isabella through the doorway of a tent that smelled like Paris. Inside, she found a bakery not quite like any other. Isabella marveled at a jar of jellied fish that actually seemed to be swimming. She giggled at a display of sugarplum ballerinas who twirled of their own accord. But what made her smile the most was the sight of Harper hugging Hugo the extraordinary baker—who was in fact her father.
Hugo gave both of them stacks of cakes and treats. Harper was used to all the glorious flavors, particularly the tea that tasted of memories, but Isabella was spellbound. She found herself wishing that she could stay there forever, tasting a different cake every day.
Next, they visited a tent of mystical turquoise. It was incredibly crowded, but Isabella could just make out a pool of shimmering water in the center. Then the air seemed to sizzle, as above them a woman swung into the light on a trapeze. She was dressed as a mermaid and had a voice as lovely as ocean waves.
“So this is the sea-singer,” Isabella remarked, for even though she had met Harper’s mother, Aurelia, before, she had never seen her perform. The sea-singer caught sight of Harper and her voice became even more beautiful. She dived in and out of the water, her song never faltering, while the crowd gasped in amazement. Once the spectacle was over, the sea-singer embraced her daughter. Isabella watched the cheering crowds and again found herself wishing that she was part of this glorious and strange circus.
A huge shadow fell across the tent. Quite suddenly, Aurelia let go of Harper and seemed to scurry away in fear, as a large man with a bristly red beard barged his way forward. Isabella and Harper both took a step backward. They had never seen the man before, but they could guess who he was: Othello Grande, the ringmaster. With a quick glance at her mother, Harper pulled Isabella away, and they set off to explore more tents. But neither of them was able to shake away the unsettling memory of the man with the red beard.
Ferdie came speeding toward them, proudly brandishing his pencil. Harper clasped his hands. “Are you going to be a world-famous poet?” she asked.
Ferdie shook his head, but his eyes were bright as newborn stars. “No,” he cried triumphantly. “I’ll be a struggling playwright.” Here, his voice trailed off as he imagined the quiet glory of living in the attic of the Tall Apartment Block, with only his serious scarf to keep him warm as he typed away on a rickety typewriter.
“What a wonderful life it will be,” he said with a sigh.
“Hey,” piped up a happy voice, interrupting Ferdie’s daydream. It was Liesel and her friend Rat, who were merrily munching on candy apples. “Rat’s doing a show with his dazzling Rat Dancers in five minutes,” yelped Liesel excitedly, beckoning them over the bridge. “We have to see it!”
Isabella nodded dreamily and the little group turned to follow Liesel into a striped tent. Then Harper caught sight of Nate and Smoke on the other side of the cloud. The sleek silvery wolf, who was usually a creature of superior grace, seemed strangely wild-eyed. “Is everything okay?” she asked, wandering over to them.
Nate nodded and ran his hands over the wolf, soothing her back to calm her. “We found a bridge that didn’t quite feel the same as the others. It seemed to go down instead of over, and it seemed as old and delicate as cobwebs.”
Harper frowned. She had never come across anything like that in the circus. “Where was it?” she asked. Nate pointed into the distance, but Harper couldn’t see anything other than bobbing, colorful tents.
“Come on! The show’s about to start,” squeaked Liesel, popping her head out of the striped tent. Nate grinned and let Harper lead him into the tent, but all through the performance he couldn’t help wondering where the strange cobwebby bridge might lead to. …
Chapter Three
THE WILD CONDUCTOR’S WISH
By the time the children had hugged their friends at the circus goodbye and followed Nate back to the Tall Apartment Block, twilight was falling. City lights flickered like far-off stars, and the night felt still and magical. As everyone hurried to the rooftop, Harper opened her Scarlet Umbrella and drifted up ahead of them, picking Midnight up along the way. She had a very important announcement to make.
Beneath the gathering dusk, Harper spun the Scarlet Umbrella upside down and stood inside it, hovering just high enough to see everyone’s faces.
“As you all know,” she began, “I promised to help the Wild Conductor win back his place in the Circus of Dreams by putting on an amazing show.” Everyone’s eyes twinkled. “And as the circus is here, I think we should put on the show tonight.”
At this, the crowd looked confused. Peter, a world-famous writer who was Ferdie and Liesel’s father, stepped forward. “That’s a wonderful idea, little Harp,” he said fondly, “but we haven’t rehearsed.”
Madame Flora, the ballet teacher from the third floor, curtsied anxiously. “But Harper is right,” she said. “We need to catch the circus before the wind changes and sweeps it away.”
Isabella approached, bringing her entire family with her, each of them holding up a drum. “We will help however we can,” they cried, accidentally clashing a cymbal and startling many of the cats.
Then a voice that crackled with the splendor of age spoke up: “Harper, why don’t you tell them your plan?” It was Elsie Caraham, the oldest resident of the Tall Apartment Block. Her green cloak billowed in the evening breeze, making her look quite powerful.
“The Wild Conductor has been rehearsing for months,” Harper said, “practicing songs on the cloudian while I listened from the rooftop.” The crowd began to whisper with excitement. “At the stroke of twelve tonight, he’ll perform and you will be the audience.”
At once, everyone set off to fetch blankets and deck chairs, so they could watch the concert from the roof. Madame Flora sashayed forward on rose-pink points. “What is the cloudian?” she asked.
“You’ll see.” Harper giggled and then she quickly added, “Oh, and please all bring your umbrellas!”
As midnight approached, everybody sat in perfect stillness, umbrellas open above their heads, handles clutched proudly to their hearts. Harper, Ferdie, Liesel, and Nate stood slightly to one side with Elsie Caraham.
Liesel gave a long, impatient sigh. She found all this waiting around incredibly boring. “Why does the Wild Conductor want to rejoin the circus anyway?” she pondered.
“Because it’s the most amazing place in the entire world?” suggested Nate, yet they all knew there was more to it than that.
“Maybe it’s to do with power,” said Ferdie doubtfully, for that didn’t seem right either.
“It might have to do with family,” Harper suggested.
“Or love,” added Elsie Caraham knowingly.
Liesel burst out laughing. “He’s far too grumpy to fall in love,” she declared.
“Well, perhaps he’s simply heartbroken,” Elsie reflected.
The children stared at each other in bewil-derment. They’d never really thought of that.
At that moment, clocks all over the City of Clouds began to chime midnight. Harper held her breath—it was time for the show to begin!
At the twelfth stroke there was a soft clinking of silver, like the spinning chain of a bike. Everyone turned to follow the sound and froze in astonishment as the Wild Conductor came gently pedaling across the sky on a bicycle attached to a shimmering cloud. The bicycle was black as thunder and the cloud was the color of starlight, and they were bound together with stems of edentwine. It was a most magnificent sight.
“So this is the cloudian,” murmured Madame Flora, and Harper gave a happy nod. W
hen the Wild Conductor cycled faster, the twine hugged the cloud and a shower of musical raindrops tumbled down over the roof. And what a song it was—a song all the way from the Night Forest that could tame the fiercest of hearts. The residents leaped up off their blankets and out of their deck chairs, their hearts alight with hope.
Liesel popped open her pink-and-gray umbrella, which had little ears like a mouse, and started to dance across the roof. As she twirled high on her toes, there came a soft whooshing like the sound of a shooting star and, to her utter delight, Liesel found she was dancing on air.
Chapter Four
A FLOCK OF FLYING UMBRELLAS
Ferdie gave a wondrous shout as his sister drifted up toward the sparkling sky. Until that moment, it had only ever been Harper’s enchanted Scarlet Umbrella that had been able to fly. But as the spell of the cloudian’s song rained down, all the umbrellas began jostling and hovering and rising into the air. Many of the residents had never flown before, and they gasped to see the City of Clouds spread out below them. From up high, its flickering lights made it dazzle like a city of fireflies.
Then, without any warning, Ferdie’s green umbrella banged into Nate, shoving him roughly sideways and making both boys wobble. There was a yell from Elsie Caraham as Great Aunt Sassy’s purple umbrella knocked off her emerald cape, and a squeal from Isabella as her orange umbrella went spinning into Madame Flora, sending her whirling across the sky, a single silken pointe shoe falling to the roof.
“The umbrellas are out of control!” cried Nate, struggling to regain his balance.
Quicker than lightning, Harper spun the Scarlet Umbrella upside down and dived into it like a little red boat. Midnight darted off her shoulder and into the umbrella’s folds, hooking his claw around a small golden harp and tugging it onto Harper’s lap. Harper lifted it high and at once began to play. The moment the music of the harp met with the music of the cloudian, everything calmed, as if an invisible wave of peace had swept through the sky. One by one, the umbrellas stopped crashing into one another and became a softly floating flock once more.
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