Alistair Grim's Odditorium

by Gregory Funaro

  “Yes, Nigel. I’m on my way now.”

  I flicked off the talkback and turned back to Cleona. “Thank you for telling me all this, miss.”

  “You’re welcome, Grubb. As far as I’m concerned, there shall be no secrets between us. Agreed?”

  “Agreed, miss.”

  “However,” Cleona said, smiling, “I can’t promise there shall be no tricks.”

  “Neither can I, miss,” I said, smiling back. “Which is why, being Mr. Grim’s apprentice, I think it best not to tell you where your comb is at present.”

  “You mean, you know where Uncle hid it?” Cleona asked, amazed.

  “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. Either way, I should think the trick’s on you, miss.”

  “Why, you little—!” Cleona cried, but I didn’t hang around to hear the rest. I dashed laughing from the room and down the hall, bounded down the spiral staircase and through the parlor, and came to a stop in the library doorway.

  The wall behind Mr. Grim’s desk was still open, so I had a clear view of him out on the balcony. He stood with his back to me, shoulders hunched, his head tilted down as if he were looking at something on his pipe organ.

  “Mr. Grim?” I called tentatively.

  But he did not respond.

  As I approached him, all the questions that I’d never dare ask flooded my head at once. However, as I stepped out onto the balcony, I became aware of a bright light flashing up at Mr. Grim’s face.

  “Mr. Grim?” I called again.

  He stiffened and lifted his head. And as he slowly turned, I spied the Lady in Black’s mirror in his hand. The glass was no longer dark, but fizzled and popped in a kaleidoscope of swirling colors.

  My eyes grew wide and my mouth fell open—when suddenly the mirror crackled and flashed, and in its glass I saw my own face staring back at me.

  “What an odd mirror,” my reflection said, my voice hollow and distorted. “I should think the Lady in Black would have a hard time seeing herself.”

  I heard Cleona giggle and saw myself spin around, and all at once I understood what I was witnessing. The mirror was somehow playing back the moment when I first discovered it in the library. And just as I saw myself setting the mirror down on its box, the scene dissolved and the glass grew dark again.

  I gazed up at Mr. Grim in disbelief, and imagine my surprise to find him weeping.

  “It is you,” was all he said. “It is you.”

  The odd was the ordinary at Alistair Grim’s. And so, I suppose it’s only natural that a lowly chimney sweep like yours truly should wind up being the secret son of a distinguished inventor, fortune hunter, and purveyor of antiquities—not to mention a master sorcerer.

  Indeed, Mr. Grim—begging your pardon, my father—welcomed me as his son with open arms. We had a lot of catching up to do, he said, but as is so often the case when on an adventure, there was little time to get all gobby eyed about it.

  Yes, I’m afraid there were many more secrets to be revealed in the days to come, not the least of which had to do with the Lady in Black’s mirror, the return of an old friend, and the quest for more Odditoria.

  And yet, if the word Odditoria, at once both singular and plural, is used to classify any object living, inanimate, or otherwise that is believed to possess magical powers, perhaps the greatest secret I learned back then is that love truly is the most powerful Odditoria of them all.

  You’ll have to take my word on that for now.

  And who am I that you should do so?

  Why I’m Grubb Grim, of course. Spelled like a worm that’s unhappy, but with a double b. However, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I was anything but unhappy back then. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have traded my new life at the Odditorium for all the gold in the Lady of the Lake’s castle.

  Good heavens! There I go getting ahead of myself again.

  My apologies, but I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word on all that Lady of the Lake business too. At least for now. Father is calling. Time for my organ lesson, you see.

  After all, if one is going to inherit the Odditorium, one must learn to fly it.

  An intriguing turn of events, wouldn’t you agree?

  Character List

  Some folks in the North Country

  Grubb: Name spelled like the worm but with a double b, Grubb is twelve years old or thereabouts and the narrator of our story. A chimney sweep by trade, he can also read a bit and count higher than his fingers and toes.

  Mr. Smears: Grubb’s brutal master, his favorite pastimes include drinking beer and knocking down Grubb for no reason in particular.

  Mrs. Smears: Gentle and kind, she died when Grubb was six or thereabouts.

  Mr. Crumbsby: A swindler and the proprietor of the Lamb’s Inn, he is fat, has red whiskers, and spoils his twin sons rotten.

  Tom & Terrance Crumbsby: Fat, redheaded devils like their father, the Crumbsby twins eat loads of jam and enjoy beating up Grubb when they catch him.

  The Crumbsby Women: Mrs. Crumbsby and her two daughters, Anne and Emily. They are very fond of Grubb and sneak him food when the others are not around.

  Old Joe: A donkey that sometimes shares its stable with Grubb.

  A number of relevant persons in and around London

  Alistair Grim: Fortune hunter, purveyor of antiquities, and, some say, mad sorcerer. He is the inventor of the Odditorium, a house of mechanical wonders, and thus the chap after whom our story is named.

  Prince Nightshade: Mr. Grim’s nemesis and antiquities rival, the self-proclaimed prince is an evil necromancer capable of absorbing magical power.

  Nigel Stout: Alistair Grim’s coachman and all-around right-hand man, he is big and bald and wears a pair of thick black goggles.

  Mrs. Pinch: Mr. Grim’s nearsighted housekeeper and cook.

  Lord Dreary: Mr. Grim’s business partner and longtime friend.

  Kiyoko: A fierce shinobi warrior and prisoner in Nightshade’s castle.

  Judge Mortimer Hurst: An enemy of Mr. Grim’s, he sentenced Nigel’s brother to hang a decade earlier.

  Noah the Pickpocket: A dapper thief about Grubb’s age.

  Frog Eyes & Flat Nose: His not-so-dapper mates.

  And, of course, a few who are either dead or just talked about

  Abel Wortley: An elderly philanthropist, purveyor of antiquities, and dear friend of Alistair Grim’s, Mr. Wortley and his housekeeper were murdered in London ten years before our story begins.

  William Stout: Nigel’s twin brother, who was hanged for the crime.

  Maggie Stout: William’s daughter, Maggie, was sent to live in the country after her father was hanged.

  Elizabeth O’Grady: Mr. Grim’s long-lost love, she died under mysterious circumstances twelve years ago. Grubb often refers to her as the Lady in Black.

  Glossary of Odditoria

  Not to be confused with Mr. Grim’s Odditorium (which ends with an “um”), loosely defined, the word Odditoria, at once both singular and plural, is used to classify any object living, inanimate, or otherwise that is believed to possess magical powers.

  Some relevant Odditoria at Mr. Grim’s

  Dougal “Mack” McClintock: Chief of the Chronometrical Clan McClintock, Mack is a Scottish pocket watch who likes a good brawl now and then.

  Gwendolyn, the Yellow Fairy: A wood nymph who is very fond of chocolate and gobbling up nasty grown-ups.

  Cleona: A mischievous banshee prone to wailing and playing tricks on people.

  Animus: The mysterious blue energy that powers the Odditorium’s mechanics.

  Broom: The Odditorium’s maid, she is just that, a broom.

  Samurai: Legendary Japanese warriors; Mr. Grim uses their magic-infused armor to guard his Odditorium.

  Doom dogs: A pack of vicious shadow hounds charged with fetching escaped spirits back to the Land of the Dead.

  The Eyes of Mars: A pair of magical orbs that the Roman god of war gave to his twin sons, Romulus and Remus. Alistair Grim has one Ey
e, and Prince Nightshade has the other.

  The Lady in Black’s Mirror: A silver-handled mirror with dark glass that Mr. Grim keeps on his desk.

  Number One: A large mechanical wasp.

  Thunderbirds: An even larger species of bird indigenous to North America.

  Some relevant Odditoria at Prince Nightshade’s

  The Black Fairy: An evil winged demon and Nightshade’s second in command, he excels at blowing up things by spitting bolts of nasty black fire.

  Shadesmen: The long-dead armies of Romulus and Remus resurrected by Prince Nightshade.

  Sirens: Beautiful but dangerous sea witches whose songs lured ancient sailors to their deaths.

  Red Dragons: A clan of half-human serpents that are enemies of the shinobi.

  Phantom: One of Prince Nightshade’s horses, he can fly and shoot fire from his mouth.

  Borg Gorallup: A large Norwegian troll and oft-featured gladiator in Prince Nightshade’s tournaments, he holds an impressive record of seventeen kills.

  Moth Man: This newcomer from the Americas boasts a record of nine kills, each in less than a minute.

  Moosh-Moosh: A pint-sized goblin that tops off the prince’s fighting roster with an unparalleled record of twenty kills even.

  Various other monsters: Including more goblins and trolls that have allied themselves with the prince.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I must thank my superhuman agent Bill Contardi at Brandt & Hochman Literary Agents, as well as my brilliant editors Emily Meehan, Laura Schreiber, and Elizabeth Law. Words cannot possibly express my gratitude for their enthusiasm and guidance throughout this process, and I am truly honored and humbled to have worked with them. A mountain of thanks must also be heaped upon the magical team at Disney-Hyperion who helped bring this book to life: the amazing Whitney Manger, Su Blackwell, and Colin Crisford for their stunning cover, my keen-eyed copy editor Brian Luster, and the remarkably talented Vivienne To, whose illustrations ended up exceeding my wildest expectations.

  As always, I am eternally grateful to my wife, Angela, and my family for their unwavering love and support. Further appreciation goes out to Jessica Purdy and her son, Jack Schneider, whose obsession with Grubb and his adventures made me believe again. Loads of thanks to my colleagues John Shearin, Jill Matarelli-Carlson, Patch Clark, Natalie Stewart, and Robert Caprio for always taking the time out of their busy lives to read my work, as well as to my former students Malcolm Armwood, Jason Brown, Victoria Kite, Bobby Cassell, McKenna Cox, Andrew Britt, Grayson Sandford, Devan Mitchell, Nick Iyoob, Tyler McAuley, and John Barnick—all of whom unwittingly helped me develop Grubb’s voice as I read to them in class. Thanks also to Jim McCarthy at Dystel & Goderich, my old mentor John C. Edwards for turning me on to all things Dickens, and my dear friend Michael Combs, whose insight and collaborative spirit never cease to amaze me.

  And last but not least, a long overdue thank-you must go out to my ninth grade English teacher, Mrs. LaFauci. You planted the seed all those years ago; my sincerest apologies that it took so long to bear fruit.

  Gregory Funaro grew up in Cranston, Rhode Island, and wrote his first story, “The Ghost in the Window,” in the fourth grade. He considers this to be his finest work, but unfortunately it has been lost to time. Following high school, Greg majored in theatre at the University of New Hampshire and, after various acting gigs, received his AM in theatre arts from Brown University and an MFA in acting from the FSU/Asolo Conservatory. Greg teaches drama at East Carolina University and is busy working on the next book in the Odditorium series.