“It is good that Mr. Banneker and Miss Modest will remain here,” said Mr. Bell. “It is the right decision.”
“Yes, I agree,” agreed Miss Brett, who had had a hand in urging that decision.
“Thank you,” said Noah. He adjusted the leather satchel on his shoulder.
Mr. Bell caught Noah’s arm as the boy turned to leave. Noah turned and Mr. Bell looked into Noah’s eyes. Noah could sense the strength of the little old man, but he could also sense the kindness and concern.
“You must take care, my son,” Mr. Bell said softly. “We can search for a thing and find something very different. And we may learn things that cannot be unlearned.”
“I understand,” said Noah, who truly did not. “I…I will be careful.”
“I fear care is not enough,” said Mr. Bell. “You will soon face a choice, Master Canto-Sagas. Be strong, for it shall define you.”
Noah had the sense that he was talking to a version of Lucy disguised as a little old man with a beard. He really did not have any idea what Mr. Bell was saying. All he knew was that he had to see a man about a map and that map would help lead him to Ariana.
“I will take care and be strong,” said Noah, awkwardly, “Please take care of Father.”
“That,” said Mr. Bell, “we shall continue to do.”
As Noah packed items he felt he might need, he grabbed a handful of coins to put back in his pocket. It was then that he rediscovered his mother’s bead. He took it out and placed it on the shelf in his room. It was hers, he thought. A shining little trinket of my mother.
In fact, it was shining quite a bit. Noah picked it back up. It was practically glowing. Strontium? Perhaps. But an odd thing for something merely decorative. In that case, Noah placed the bead on the high ledge of the window. The light of the sun would reignite the glow. He would check tomorrow and ask Wallace to check it for strontium. He gathered his things and closed the door behind him.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Wallace said, waiting outside Noah’s room.
“Of course, we will,” said Noah. “Of course.” He knew better than to tell Wallace not to worry.
On the carriage ride, the three of them were silent and Noah went over the plan in his head. Leaving Lucy and Wallace behind with Miss Brett was the right thing to do, without a doubt. Lucy wanted to come, but fell asleep before she could argue. Wallace was more than happy to stay at the castle, especially in the dark of night. Jasper, Faye, and I would make a good team. Miss Brett, however, was not pleased about the departure. She had tried to convince me not to go, but agreed, in the end, to let the three of us go together.
On the ride, they each checked their plan once again. Faye had the camera and looked like any modern tourist. Noah, Faye, and Jasper would go to Corlyss Swayne and explain the situation. They would ask for help uncovering the map and see if the map could lead them to the lair of Komar Romak.
Noah held the now wrinkled and smeared piece of paper Sir Edward had given him. The paper was sticky from Noah’s clammy hands, which he wiped against his trousers. Suddenly, his hand was wet again. But this time, it was from a tongue that was relentlessly licking it.
“Ralph!” shouted Noah.
The dog, who was hiding beneath the seat, crawled out slowly on his belly, looking distinctly sheepish, his uneven ears folded down. Ralph whined pathetically, guilt written all over his furry little face.
“How did that dog get in here?” said Faye, rubbing Ralph on the head and trying to avoid his slobbery tongue.
“He must have snuck into the carriage,” said Noah. “He’s a stowaway, Captain.”
“He’s determined to protect you,” said Jasper, smiling back at the dog who, Jasper was sure, had winked. “I think that guilty look is just an act.”
“Without a doubt,” said Noah, accepting the dog into his lap with a face full of smooches. “What do we do with him? We can’t go back. It’s too far. And we can’t very well bring him into the Khan for a stroll. We don’t even have his lead.”
Ralph jumped down off of Noah’s lap, rooted under the seat, and jumped back up, tail wagging and his lead hanging from his mouth.
“Did he understand that?” asked Jasper.
“Absolutely,” said Noah, giving Ralph a rub under the chin.
“Still,” said Faye, smiling at the determined dog, “I don’t think we can bring him with us. Having him in the Khan might be a problem.”
“It will certainly make us a conspicuous lot,” said Jasper, “and might get us into trouble with vendors who dislike dogs, not to mention the numerous cats who live among the shops and passageways.”
“Sorry, old bean,” said Noah to Ralph. “You are going to have to stay here in the carriage with the brother in black.”
Ralph tilted his head.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t understand me,” said Noah, lightheartedly scolding him. “I know quite well you understood exactly what I said.”
Ralph whined and resigned himself to lying down. In protest, he put his head between his paws.
In the Khan, Noah felt uneasy about leaving Ralph behind. Ralph would always protect him. Plus, the pathetic look Ralph gave, the whimpering and weak scratching paw at the window routine, wrenched at Noah’s heart. But Faye was right. They simply could not have the dog with them in the Khan. It was too big of a risk. It was hard enough, thought Noah, to arrive at Corlyss Swayne’s both unannounced and with two others. With a dog, the man would surely turn us away.
Once again the children were totally enveloped in the winding alleys, corridors, and stairways of the ancient Khan il Khalili. Except for the occasional glimpse at the night sky above, one might never know the hour in the Khan light of bright lamps and candles. Noah, Faye, and Jasper had become rather deft at dodging the grasping hands of the more aggressive shopkeeps and beggars.
They had mastered the art of slipping through the rows of trinkets, spices, scarves, and other wares that lined every inch of the place. Noah could see why Mr. Bell had not wanted them to go so late. The Khan il Khalili was not just alive at night, but wilder than during the day. But Noah had been very convincing. He had discovered his talent to persuade late, he thought, for all the times he could never convince his mother to take him with her on her travels.
As they hurried up the twisted passageways, Noah imagined the meeting with the map maker. Images of a tall, severe-faced man with a sharp nose, and an even sharper tongue, filled Noah with worry. What if Corlyss Swayne refused them entry? What if one look at this band of children made Corlyss Swayne close his doors and turn from helping forever.
Noah stopped. He had to think how he might approach the subject. But he didn’t know how to do it. Luckily for Noah, Jasper could read his face.
“You’re worried about us joining you,” Jasper said. “Do you want to go see that man alone?”
“Absolutely not.” Faye had not read Noah’s expression, or she chose to ignore it.
“Hear me out, Faye,” said Noah. “The fellow is not only hard to find, but he refuses to see almost everyone. Many know his name but no one has ever met him. At least, that is how it seems.”
“Noah may be right, Faye,” said Jasper, who was receiving looks of dismay from Faye. “It doesn’t mean we disappear. It just means we remain in the background like the brothers in black.”
Faye looked over Jasper’s shoulder. Where were the brothers? Jasper touched her sleeve and pointed. Almost invisible against the dark walls of the café, two brothers stood like shadows among the throngs of people passing by.
“Fine,” Faye said in something less than agreement.
“Noah.” Jasper was firm. “You must be in touch with us—call out if you need help. We can find the map once he tells you where to go. We will never be far.”
“That is, if he tells you,” said Faye. “If we’re that lucky.”
“I will step out of his shop and signal you,” said Noah. “We’ll have a word…I’ll call out ‘flern!’ so you know that I have learne
d something.”
Faye could not help but giggle. They all immediately remembered little Lucy’s grand misunderstanding. “Flern” was something Lucy had heard the older children say, and was something she then thought she wanted. Maybe flern was delicious or fluffy. Flern was, in fact, nothing at all. Lucy had simply misheard. She had combined the words ‘have learned’ into a new word that was all Lucy Modest. Now, flern had great meaning for the Young Inventors Guild. It now meant something they had learned. It was a word all their own.
“Very well, silly boy,” said Faye. “If Corlyss Swayne tells you where the map is, and you can believe the man, call out and we shall share flern and hunt for the map, wherever it may be hidden.”
Noah had to admit that he had no idea where to find Corlyss Swayne. They wandered for what felt like hours.
“Kharida?” Noah had asked several vendors, having learned the word for “map” in Arabic. This only produced myriad newly-minted “real pharaonic” maps on papyrus or pieces of paper that the vendor wanted to sell.
Noah turned when he heard a whistle. It was an elderly man with a white beard and a keffiyeh, a head scarf worn by men in the Arab world. The man, sipping tea at a small table, waved at Noah. Noah was sure he had passed the man several times.
“Meen?” The man asked “who” and Noah turned around.
“Malish,” Noah apologized. “I do not speak Arabic. Did you ask ‘who’?”
“Yes,” said the man in English. “Who do you seek for the map?”
“Ah, yes.” Noah tried to hide his surprise. He realized the man must have heard him asking for the kharida. “I search for the map maker. The famous map maker.” Noah was not sure he should say Corlyss Swayne.
“You search for The Mapmaker?” the man asked.
Noah felt this man might know and, feeling he had no choice but to trust him, whispered, “I seek Corlyss Swayne. Do you know him?”
The man laughed. “Corlyss Swayne? Everyone knows of Corlyss Swayne.” While this wasn’t uttered as a whisper, the man’s voice did not carry, and Noah did not see anyone around him react to the response.
“Where can I find Corlyss Swayne?” Noah asked, still speaking softly.
The man used his gnarled finger to trace a line on the dusty table from where they stood, at the glass of tea, left and right and left and up stairs and through the blacksmiths and copper welders.
“Kidda,” said the man, “like this and there is where you will find Corlyss Swayne.”
Noah looked at the table that now had a maze of lines through the dust. If only Lucy was there to retain those instructions. Noah nodded, though he was not sure at all. Which door on the upper landing? Was it after the second stairs and directly from the blacksmiths? Were the blacksmiths on an upper floor? And which turn was he supposed to take first? Noah started to walk and hoped the man would call him back if he was headed in the wrong direction.
He heard a click and turned around. No one was there. He could have sworn he heard a camera snap a photograph.
By the time he reached the blacksmiths, Noah was completely turned around and not sure which of the passageways he should take. He walked over to a man who held a small hammer and a pointed metal tool. He was carving amazing details into a huge brass plate. Then another click.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Faye and Jasper, acting like tourists. They were taking photographs of boys at work with their fathers and uncles. Noah walked the length of the carving area, through a narrow corridor, and up another flight of stairs.
“I seek the maker of kharida. Corlyss Swayne,” Noah said, trying to make hand gestures that resembled a map.
The copper worker dropped his tool. He picked it up and looked nervously at Noah.
“Do you know where he is?” Noah asked.
The copper worker turned quickly to look at another. The other shook his head. The first one now looked afraid and refused to look back at him. Only the smallest of the boys was willing to look up. Noah walked over to a third man, who was older and seemed to be the head of the group. “Do you know where I can find a man named Corlyss Swayne?”
Without looking up and without saying a word, the man pointed to a passageway that led from the blacksmiths’ workshop to a narrow corridor on the far side of the mezzanine. Noah thanked the man and left him a coin. Noah followed his directions. It led through an even narrower passageway, and up another flight of stairs that seemed to have been built hundreds of years before and had never been swept in all that time. The stairs turned to the right in what seemed to be a spiral but they straightened again at a landing.
On the landing were two large wooden doors, one on either side. Neither had a name or anything written upon them. Was it the first door on the left or the second, on the small upper landing? He couldn’t remember. He’d just have to make a guess. He pulled at the first door. It would not open. But that didn’t mean anything.
And then, on the first door, Noah saw the slot for a calling card, just as Pamina had described. He was about to place the card in the slot when a shadow moved on the stairway. Noah jumped.
“Who’s there?” Noah called.
“Shhhhh,” said Faye, peeking around. “It’s us, you idiot.”
“How did you get here before me?” he asked.
“Simple,” said Faye. “We knew where to go.” She pointed behind her at the shadow of a brother in black.
“Now you tell me.” Noah rolled his eyes. After all that, the brothers knew where to find Corlyss Swayne.
“It’s better that we did not come together,” Faye said gently. “You were likely right about that.” And with a nod, she faded back into the shadows.
Noah swallowed hard. He pulled the calling card from his pocket and pushed it, carefully, into the slot.
Noah moved back from the door and waited. He waited for several minutes. Nothing happened. He checked twice to see if the card had gone through. It had. He heard no sound whatever coming from behind the door.
Noah considered. He could take the delay as a failure and depart. Or he could make another attempt to get through. Boldly, he stepped forward and, before he could stop himself, he knocked firmly upon the door. It was like an explosion in Noah’s ears. Because he and the door were surrounded by stone floors, stone walls, and a stone ceiling, the sound of the knock echoed on the landing.
Had he made a mistake? Would this be seen as an overstep, an invasion, by the elusive Corlyss Swayne? Perhaps no response to the calling card had been an answer in itself. Perhaps Noah should have accepted the rejection and gone away. Perhaps…
But then Noah heard it. The sound of the key turning and lock unlocking echoed on that stone landing. Noah’s heart was racing as he clung to his satchel like a safety blanket. His feet seemed to be urging him to run. But he fought that urge and stood his ground. He was here to get information that would lead to his mother. He was here to save her. Corlyss Swayne, curmudgeon though he might be, was going to help him.
Faye and Jasper heard the sound of the door.
“I wish we had one of those dog whistles now,” Faye said in a whisper, “in case Noah needs our help.”
Jasper nodded, then smiled, unseen in the darkness. “Do you mean for Ralph? Or Noah?”
The man who stood on the other side of the door was neither old nor fierce. Noah entered, trying to connect the young man with his image of Corlyss Swayne.
The room was dim. It was a small space but filled with rolls of what Noah guessed must be maps. Only one oil lamp was lit. There were large and small magnifying glasses strewn about a desk, as well as jars of quills, brushes, stylos, and pots of different colored ink. Without saying a word, the man led the way across the room, through a short hallway, and into a larger room. The elegant room contained several rosewood chairs and a soft divan. Next to the divan was a table upon which was a silver tray with tea set for two.
A tall slender woman stood against the amber light streaming through the mashrabaya. She was facing away fro
m the door and her fair hair was pulled back in a long thick plait that fell down the length of her back. She turned to Noah and smiled, but it was a smile colored with sadness. Her face was warm and kind. Noah nodded a greeting. Taking a deep breath, Noah let himself relax a moment. But when he looked back at Corlyss Swayne, the man had disappeared. Panic set in again.
“I am sorry, but I must speak with that man,” he said.
“You must speak with that man?” the woman said, her voice smooth and warm.
“Yes,” said Noah. “It is very important that I speak with Corlyss Swayne.”
“I understand,” said the woman. She stood there for a moment, looking at Noah, then nodded toward the divan. But Noah did not want to sit. He did not want to stop for tea.
Noah wanted to speak with Corlyss Swayne. “I want to speak with Corlyss Swayne.”
“Very well,” said the woman. “I am Corlyss Swayne.”
Noah opened his mouth but his throat closed.
“And you are Noah Canto-Sagas,” she continued. Her accent was clearly English, but her years of living in Cairo could be heard in her words.
Every expectation Noah had was exploding. This is Corlyss Swayne? This is the mysterious mapmaker? Somewhere another question fought for its place in his brain—how did she know his name? As if she could read his thoughts, she held up his card.
“You?” he finally managed to say. “You are Corlyss Swayne?”
She smiled, broadly, “Yes, habibi, I am Corlyss Swayne. Does that surprise you?” She had moved over to the table and gracefully poured tea into each cup.
The man who was not Corlyss Swayne entered the room carrying a plate of tiny cakes. He placed the plate on the table.
“This is Jackson Djinn,” said Corlyss Swayne. “He is my apprentice. And a very talented map reader and cartographer.”
“Pleased to meet you, Noah Canto-Sagas,” said Jackson Djinn.
“Djinn?” asked Noah. “You mean like ‘djinn,’ as in genie?”
“It is an old family name, indeed,” said Corlyss Swayne “Though Jackson Djinn was raised in Europe, his father’s people were from a long line of…alchemists. They were considered magic because of their talents in science.”
The Strange Round Bird: Or the Poet, the King, and the Mysterious Men in Black Page 19
