Oberon grunted. “So there is a good reason for our discontent,” he said. “If even the shopkeepers are betraying the pact.”
Arthur stepped forward. “Time keeps growing larger and opens up cracks in every heart,” he said. “What pains me the most about Cumai’s death is that perhaps we really will have to close all the passages soon.”
Everyone present went silent, letting Arthur’s melancholy words linger in the air. Then, as if rousing himself from an agonizing lethargy, Oberon turned toward Reverend Prospero and said, “But the agreements between us are clear, and they have been followed honorably. We shall honor the agreement and exchange the culprit for your priest!”
With a stroke of his broken sword, Arthur severed the silk scarf that bound Reverend Prospero’s hands. Then he bowed. “It is not customary for a king to pay respect to his hostage,” Arthur said, “but in this case, the Others were wrong about you, Reverend — and about your loyalty to your friends. We restore you to your beloved Time, and to those who wish you well.”
Reverend Prospero answered the bow with a grunt and a decidedly stiffer bow. “I accept your words as if they were an apology, my Lords,” he said. “And I leave your hospitality with great pleasure. Ladies, Sirs, I give you all my most sincere blessing —”
“Reverend, please,” Oberon interrupted, placing a hand on Arthur’s before the knight could raise his sword. “We’ve already discussed our differences about faith. I do not believe it’s the right time to stir up our ancient rivalry this evening.”
The Revered lowered his head and walked over to join us. Oberon then commanded the pirate to take the salt statue of Semueld Askell and carry it to the wharf, something the Other did without any apparent strain or effort (which Doug watched with obvious admiration).
King Oberon was the last to take his leave. “Thank you, Locan Langmuir Lily. Thank you, Aiby Agnes, Meb McCameron, and young McPhee. Reverend Prospero, we shall have an opportunity to continue our discussion next time, which — like you — I hope will be far into the future. And now we shall take our leave, accompanied by the night.”
“Sire?” Somerled said, taking a step forward. “I have something to ask of you. I haven’t been able to return home for four hundred years now. If there’s room for me on one of your vessels, I would very much like to go with you.”
Oberon’s gaze was distant and filled with a sort of omnipotent disinterest. He pointed to the wharf and the vast sea beyond. “You may come with us,” he said, “if that is what you truly desire.”
And without another word, he left.
Somerled smiled at us, kissed us, and squeezed my hand between hers. Her hand trembling, she passed the Reverend a letter. “My adoptive father trusts your words greatly,” she said to the Reverend. “Please tell him about this night as you think best and give him this.”
“Of course, my child,” the Reverend replied, kissing her on the top of her head. “Of course, child of the Lord.”
I stared out at the islands on the bay, chewing a blade of grass. Aiby and I were sitting on the hill at the location of Cumai’s funereal bonfire. The two of us had so many things to talk about, but we remained silent. We were exhausted — both physically and emotionally — and our heads were too preoccupied with the events of the previous day (which went double for me).
After the meeting with the Sidhe King and the other Others, I slept for twelve straight hours. When I finally woke up, I found my brother in the bathroom violently scrubbing his feet.
“Do you think they stink?” he asked in a small voice.
I didn’t reply because I was furious at him. Doug had been unwilling to return the key to the Enchanted Emporium to me. He claimed that I gave it to him as a gift — not because I was trying to trick Askell. He made it clear that I would never get it back, which made him the defender of the Enchanted Emporium.
“That may be a problem,” was all Mr. Lily had said after I’d shared the news. Aiby had said nothing at all.
Patches was crouched nearby, enjoying the breeze rustling the fur between his ears. I had already told Aiby everything about how I’d used the Second Chance Watch to trick Semueld Askell into falling for the simplest of traps.
Mr. Lily and Meb had gone to the campground to dismantle the tent using the Holiday Suitcase that Meb had recently repaired. The tent and all its contents would be placed inside until it could be given directly to the Askells at the next meeting of the seven families.
But all those matters seemed very distant, like they were a part of a future that I couldn’t yet be bothered imagine. In that moment, I only thought of the blade of grass between my teeth, the early afternoon breeze, and the presence of Aiby and Patches next to me.
“Can I ask you a question?” Aiby said, finally breaking the silence and pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Anything,” I said.
Aiby was stretched out on her side, staring me right in the eyes, her freckles highlighted in the sun. If I had been a ladybug, I would’ve hopped patiently from each irresistably cute freckle to the next.
“There’s one part of your story I don’t get,” she said.
“Just one?” I said with a smirk. “You’re lucky, then.”
“Wise guy,” Aiby said. She tried to grab my blade of grass, but I protected it with my palm. We wrestled for a little bit. It was a lovely battle.
Aiby resumed her reclined position in the grass. “What I don’t understand is how you got the Heart-eating Box to close so you could leave it in Askell’s tent.”
“Oh,” I said, flustered. “You see . . .” I trailed off.
“The only way to close it was to give it the four things it wanted,” Aiby said. “Or it would’ve eaten you.”
I flushed red. “Yeah.”
“And you swore you didn’t use it on me,” Aiby said, almost a question. “So . . . ?”
I couldn’t resist messing with her a little. “So you don’t feel any differently now? About our friendship?”
“Finley!” Aiby snarled.
“And that kiss above the reef?” I said with a grin. “Wasn’t it out of this world?”
Aiby crossed her arms. “I don’t want to talk about that with you. Not a chance.”
I smiled at her, which quickly soothed her agitation.
“In any case, you were brave,” Aiby said.”
“Brave?” I said.
“Yes. You were brave,” she said.
I tilted my head. “You mean I was brave for jumping from the tower?”
“I meant what I meant,” Aiby said. “And you understood it perfectly well.”
But this time, I didn’t understand, although I pretended that I did. “Okay,” I said. “Then I’ll tell you what happened with the box. On the condition that you don’t tell anyone else.”
Aiby stared me down. “Tell me.”
I stared right back. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
Aiby nodded. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“Okay,” I said. “I didn’t perform any Heart-eating voodoo ritual on you, but I had to do it to someone. The only way to stop that box from eating me whole was to put four items from someone else inside it.”
Aiby narrowed her eyes. “And? What objects did you put inside the box?”
“Well, for something that’s worn, I put his collar inside the box,” I said. “For something from the dead, I used his dog tag — because it had belonged to his father, who’s been dead for years. I placed a few hairs from his tail inside, too. As for the liquid, well . . . I asked him to pee a little.”
Aiby roared with laughter. “Oh, Finley! You hexed poor Patches?”
Hearing his name, Patches dashed over to drool on my face in complete contentedment. “Yep!” I said. “I figured there was no harm in it. He was already madly in love with me, anyway. And it seemed to work out well en
ough for all of us.”
Aiby smiled at me and placed her hand on my shoulder — until Patches whimpered and nudged it away with his nose.
I smirked. “Okay, so maybe he’s a little more jealous than before,” I said. “But after all, that’s love, isn’t it?”
I was born on March 6, 1974, in Acqui Terme, a small and beautiful town of Piedmont, Italy. I grew up with my three dogs, my black bicycle, and Andrea, a special girl who lived five miles uphill from my house.
During my boring high school classes, I often pretended to take notes while I actually wrote stories. Around that time, I also met a group of friends who were fans of role-playing games. Together, we invented and explored dozens of fantastic worlds. I was always a curious but quiet explorer.
While attending law school, I won an award for my novel, The Road Warrior. It was one of the most beautiful days of my entire life. From that moment on, I wrote and published my novels. After graduating, I worked in museums and regaled visitors with interesting stories about all the dusty, old objects housed within.
Soon after, I started traveling. I visited Celle Ligure, Pisa, Rome, Verona, London, and many other places. I’ve always loved seeing new places and discovering new cultures, even if I always end up back where I started.
There is one particular place that I love to visit: in the Susa Valley, there’s a tree you can climb that will let you see the most magnificent landscape on the entire planet. If you don’t mind long walks, I will gladly tell you how to get there . . . as long as you promise to keep it a secret.
I once had a very special friend who had everything he could possibly want. You see, ever since we were kids, he owned a magical pencil with two perfectly sharp ends. Whenever my friend wanted something, he drew it — and it came to life!
Once, he drew a spaceship — and we boarded it and went on a nice little tour around the galaxy.
Another time, he drew a sparkling red plane that was very similar to the Red Baron’s, only a little smaller. He piloted us inside a giant volcano that had erupted only an hour earlier.
Whenever my friend was tired, he drew a big bed. We dreamed through the night until the morning light shone through the drawn shades.
This great friend of mine eventually moved to China . . . but he left his magic pencil with me!
Enchanted Emporium is published by Capstone Young Readers
A Capstone imprint
1710 Roe Crest Drive
North Mankato, Minnesota 56003
www.capstoneyoungreaders.com
First published in the United States in 2015 by Capstone
All names, characters, and related indicia contained in this book, copyright of Atlantyca Dreamfarm s.r.l., are exclusively licensed to Atlantyca S.p.A. in their original version. Their translated and/or adapted versions are property of Atlantyca S.p.A. All rights reserved.
© 2013 Atlantyca Dreamfarm s.r.l., Italy
© 2015 for this book in English language (Capstone Young Readers)
Text by Pierdomenico Baccalario
Illustrations by Iacopo Bruno
Translated by Nanette McGuinness
Original edition published by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Italy
Original title: La mappa dei passaggi
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on the Library of Congress website.
ISBN: 978-1-4342-6518-0 (library binding)
ISBN: 978-1-62370-204-5 (paper-over-board)
ISBN: 978-1-62370-473-5 (ebook)
Summary: The evil Semueld Askell, concealed by the Cloak of Mirrors, sneaks into Finley’s room to steal the key to the Enchanted Emporium. He discovers that the key must be given willingly, and Finley’s not about to abandon his role as Defender of the Emporium. So Semueld forces Finley to make a terrible choice: give him the key, or he’ll make sure that Aiby Lily is lost forever. Finley will have to use every trick in the book (as well as some magical objects) to save his best friend.
Designer: Alison Thiele
Map of the Passages: 3 (Enchanted Emporium) Page 13
