by D D Everest
‘Are you okay?’ she asked. ‘You really don’t look your usual self.’
‘I just feel so helpless,’ groaned Archie. ‘The Greaders are closing in on The Opus Magus and we still don’t know how to defeat the Dark Flame. And to make matters worse, I’m stuck here.’
‘Not for much longer,’ said Bramble. ‘Pink sent you a present.’ She crossed the room and took something from her bag.
‘What is it?’ asked Archie.
‘It’s a thickening potion,’ said Bramble. ‘Guaranteed to put some colour back in your cheeks! Now drink it down and I’ll bring you some more tomorrow.’
The potion tasted of strawberries and cream and all sorts of other deliciously rich ingredients. Archie could feel his skin glowing.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Bramble, smiling. ‘Now what else is bothering you?’
She knew him too well to be fobbed off.
‘I’ve been thinking about my family,’ confided Archie. ‘I’ve been trying to find out what happened to them. I’ve done some digging and it seems they were trapped in a drawing book. It might be The Book of Yore, but what if it’s The Book of Night, or …’ His voice trailed off.
‘The Book of Prophecy?’ asked Bramble.
Archie nodded. He felt himself choking up. ‘I may never know what happened to them. And I don’t understand why they didn’t take me with them. That’s all I really want – to know why they left me behind.’
Bramble touched his hand. ‘Your dad was a good man,’ she said. ‘He would have done anything for his children. Your mum, too.’
Archie looked at her in astonishment. ‘I didn’t know you met them?’
Bramble’s brow clouded. She looked as confused as he was. ‘I have strong memories of them,’ she said, slowly. ‘I think I must have stayed at their house when I was little. It’s strange, I feel like I knew them well.’
She smiled. ‘And I know that wherever they are, they would want you to be brave and try to be happy.’
Archie smiled and wiped his eye. He suddenly felt very drowsy. ‘And I’m sure they would want me to try to defeat the Dark Flame and save magic!’
‘Yes,’ said Bramble, squeezing his hand. ‘They definitely would, and that is what we are going to do. Now get some rest – we have work to do tomorrow and you’re going to need your strength.’
‘That reminds me,’ she added. ‘Pink said to tell you that the thickening potion has a strong sleeping tonic in it, too.’
But Archie didn’t hear her because he was already fast sleep. Bramble tucked him in and put out the light.
22
The Book of Reckoning
The next day Archie was feeling much stronger. Whatever magic was in Pink’s thickening potion it seemed to be working. Loretta agreed to let him out of bed as long as he took it easy. He spent the day skulking around the house, but was desperate to go outside.
When Bramble and Thistle returned from the museum, Bramble brought some more of the potion and Archie swallowed it down in one. When Loretta saw him she remarked on how much more colour he had in his cheeks.
‘I must ask Pink for the recipe,’ said Loretta.
Bramble winked at Archie and Thistle grinned. It was unheard of for their mother to follow any recipes.
They pleaded with Loretta to let Archie out for a stroll.
‘We won’t let him out of our sight,’ Bramble promised.
Eventually Loretta agreed, on the strict understanding that they were back before nine o’clock.
As soon as they were outside, the three cousins made a beeline for the museum. Archie kept an eye out for any suspicious-looking shadows lurking around.
On their way to Oxford city centre, they discussed the message on Fabian Grey’s memorial.
‘“Lost but not forgotten. Precious are the memories of Fabian Grey”,’ repeated Thistle.
‘Well, he was famous for his bibliographical memory,’ said Bramble. ‘Perhaps that’s what it’s referring to?
‘Gran thinks he’s still alive,’ said Thistle. ‘But is that really possible?’
A thought struck Archie like a lightning bolt. It was so obvious that he slapped his forehead. ‘Of course,’ he groaned. ‘How could we have been so stupid?’
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Thistle.
‘The Book of Reckoning! It’s been staring us in the face all this time,’ said Archie. ‘Come on!’
*
Pink mixed them a motion potion and they took the box seats to the museum, then made their way to the Scriptorium. Sure enough, Gideon Hawke’s battered old sofa was standing in the passageway on its side where it had been discarded. Archie felt a sudden anger.
‘I can’t believe they’d just throw Hawke’s things out like that!’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Bramble. ‘But Hawke is gone. It’s Brown’s office now and he’s stamping his authority on the place.’
‘What do you think will happen to Hawke?’ asked Archie.
Bramble shrugged. ‘It depends on whether they think he’s well enough to leave the asylum.’
‘Even if they do let him out, Dad says it’s very unlikely that he’ll get his job back,’ said Thistle. ‘He challenged the Magical League, so the magical authorities have got it in for him now.’
Archie looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, I saw how they treated him. It wasn’t very nice. I don’t like Uther Morgred, or the man at the asylum, Rumold. I think they’re in this up to their necks.’
‘If you’re right,’ said Bramble, ‘then we really do need to watch our backs.
They slipped into the Scriptorium. The magical torches blazed with light, illuminating the room as they stepped inside.
At night, the Scriptorium had an eerie feeling about it. For a moment Archie stood still, contemplating the silence. Bramble and Thistle stood on either side of him for moral support.
The Book of Yore was in its usual place against one wall, its ancient brown cover closed. At the far end of the Scriptorium where the two Books of Destiny had been there was just one book now. The Book of Prophecy was no more.
The Book of Reckoning recorded every birth and death in the magical realm. It was the size of a table and raised up at an angle of forty-five degrees so that its pages were visible. Suspended in its centre was an ornate crystal hourglass. The hourglass was protected by a silver case, which formed part of the spine. The pages of the book were shaped around it so that it could be seen even when the book was open.
‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier,’ said Bramble. ‘Of course The Book of Reckoning will tell us if Grey is still alive.’
The magic Bennu bird quill floated in the air just above its open pages. It was constantly updating the names and dates.
Archie had forgotten just how amazing the book was. For a moment he gazed at it in wonder. The silver hourglass kept a tally of the time that was left until the books in the museum released their magic into the world. According to legend, that day would mark either the beginning of a new golden age of magic or the start of another dark age.
‘Look!’ cried Thistle, pointing at the sand running through the crystal hourglass.
‘Time is running out,’ said Archie.
He walked up the short flight of stairs to the raised wooden viewing platform that overlooked the book. His eyes roved across the open pages.
‘Each and every one of us will pass through its pages,’ Bramble had told him the very first time he’d visited the Scriptorium. Everything had seemed so new and exciting back then. He’d just met his cousins and was discovering the museum and the magical realm. With a jolt he remembered that all of that was in danger. The Dark Flame threatened everything he cared about.
His attention returned to the Book of Reckoning. Column after column of names filled its pages. Beside each entry was their date of birth and another space to record their death.
He watched as the magic quill wrote out a new name, Jason Flinch, and the date. A new baby had been born
to a magical family. But then, immediately, the pages flicked backward. The quill hovered over an earlier entry – Millicent Speckle, born 9th June 1930 – and added the word died and the date. Then it struck a single line through the name.
Archie glanced at Bramble and Thistle, standing on either side of the glass dome so they could see what was happening. He gathered himself.
‘Fabian Grey,’ he said, and held his breath.
At the sound of the name, The Book of Reckoning started to glow with a yellow light. The pages turned backwards, gathering speed until they were just a blur, and then suddenly stopped. The blue quill hovered above a faded entry.
Fabian Grey: Born 18th August 1649
There was no date for Grey’s death. The three cousins gazed at each other in wonder.
‘So Gran’s right,’ exclaimed Archie. ‘Grey is alive!’
23
Echoes of the Past
Archie lay awake that night. His mind kept running over the same questions. Where had Grey been all these years? And where was he now? Most importantly, whose side was he on?
When he eventually fell asleep, Archie had the strangest dream so far. It was also the most vivid. He was in the Scriptorium and he heard a gentle voice calling him. Archie knew that it was The Book of Prophecy.
‘No one may cheat their fate, book whisperer,’ it said.
‘You said that before,’ Archie said. ‘What does it mean? Who can’t cheat their fate?’
Another thought struck him. ‘How can you be talking to me when you were destroyed?’
‘Magic is not destroyed so easily,’ said the voice. ‘It fades but it lives on in our memories. I am the echo of all those whose lives were touched by the prophecy.’
Then Archie realised – the book had shown Grey what he had to do to defeat the Dark Flame, which meant it could show him!
‘What did you show Fabian Grey that nearly drove him mad?’ he asked.
There was a long silence before the book spoke again. ‘To know the future is a weight too heavy for most to carry. It has driven many to the edge of madness, Fabian Grey among them.’
‘I understand,’ said Archie, his heart beating faster. ‘But I need to know. What did you show him about the future of magic? How do I defeat the Dark Flame?’
The Book of Prophecy towered over him; its cover had become a door with a large brass door knocker. Archie hesitated. He knew now that his retrospectre could not protect him. Everyone who had consulted The Book of Prophecy was affected by the experience. But he had to know what it had shown Grey.
He took a breath. Then he gripped the brass door knocker and gave three loud raps. The door swung open, and he stepped over the threshold into a large dimly lit room that he had been in once before, when he’d been desperate to lift the Alchemist’s Curse. Bookcases formed a labyrinth.
‘Welcome back to the Library of Lives,’ said the voice. ‘This way.’
Candles in sconces on the bookcases lit themselves to form a pathway through the maze. Each book had a name written on its spine.
Archie followed the trail of flickering flames. Every time he took another step another candle sparked into life to illuminate the shadows, urging him onwards. When he glanced back he could see that the candles behind him had extinguished so that he could not see the way out.
The trail led him further and further into the labyrinth until he came to a dead end. A bookcase blocked his path. The name on the spine was FABIAN GREY. Archie hesitated.
‘You can still turn back, book whisperer,’ said the voice. ‘It is your choice.’
Making up his mind, Archie took the book from the shelf and opened it. At first the page was blank but as he watched, moving images appeared. He recognised the Scriptorium. He could see that both The Book of Reckoning and The Book of Prophecy were still intact inside the glass dome.
‘This is not the future,’ said Archie. ‘It’s the past!’
‘These are the moments that shaped your destiny, the choices that led you here. Watch closely and you will see how your future was made by others.’
The Library of Lives faded away and Archie found himself in a street that had been ravaged by fire. A thick cloud of smoke still hung in the air, making it hard to see. When he breathed in, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The houses had been reduced to blackened stumps like rotten teeth. Only one building survived.
Archie read the brass plaque on the door.
FOLLY & CATCHPOLE
PRACTITIONERS OF MAGICAL LORE
A man approached. He looked familiar. With a shock Archie recognised his father.
Alex Greene checked his pocket watch. Archie wanted to call out to him but at that moment the door to the building opened and a second man emerged from inside. He drew his scarlet cloak up to cover his face but not before Archie saw the white streak in his hair.
The two men shook hands.
‘It is done then?’ asked Alex Greene.
Fabian Grey nodded. ‘It is a strange tale but I have written it down as you asked and lodged it with the law firm. I have left instructions that I will collect it myself, although I have no idea when that will be. It is all here on this receipt,’ he said.
He held up a piece of parchment for Archie’s father to see and then tucked it inside his cloak.
‘And your ring?’ said Alex Greene.
Grey held out his hand to show that he no longer wore it on his finger. ‘I have left it with a separate instruction as you asked. I informed them that it is to be collected by a raven when the Golden Circle firemarks start to appear.’
Alex Greene nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Grey looked up and down the street and shivered. ‘This part of the city is reduced to ashes.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘It’s our fault that London burned. This building only survived because it has a magic charm on it and its contents, otherwise it would have been destroyed along with the rest.’
‘What will you do now?’ asked Alex.
‘I will collect the Grimoire and take it to the Darchive at the museum,’ Grey said. ‘It will be safe there for a while at least. I owe you a great debt for saving my life. I know the price you have paid for it.’
‘It was not for you that we made the sacrifice,’ Alex replied.
Grey nodded. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I will repay you in kind. Farewell, Alex Greene! We will not meet again.’ He turned and disappeared into the pall of smoke that still hung over the street. Archie’s father gazed after him for a moment and then turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Archie hesitated, unsure which of the two to follow, then he broke into a run.
‘Wait!’ he cried.
Alex Greene turned at the sound of his voice and Archie looked into his father’s face. And then he heard a woman’s voice.
‘Archie! Is that really you? I can’t believe it …’
He turned to see his mother. Amelia Greene was walking towards him with her arms outstretched. Archie ran towards her and would have run into her open arms, but he passed straight through her. He reached out for his father but he, too, was as insubstantial as the ribbons of smoke drifting around them.
Archie felt the sting of tears on his cheeks.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
Amelia Greene looked into his eyes. ‘My darling Archie, we are memories, an echo of the magic that brought you into the world.
‘Your father and I set out to protect you. We consulted The Book of Yore and it told us that your destiny was linked to Fabian Grey’s – your forked fates were intertwined. They always were. You both had three forks in your fate.
‘Grey’s first was when he looked in The Book of Prophecy, and his second was what happened in the cellar in Pudding Lane when The Grim Grimoire cursed him.
‘For you, the first was your meeting with Barzak, and the second was when you defeated The Grim Grimoire. The third for both of you is yet to come.
‘We wanted to get a message to Grey to let him know this. But
when your father tried to warn him, he was confronted by the fire in the cellar.’
She gave her husband a loving look. Archie’s father smiled sadly.
‘I could not stand by and watch a man die,’ he said. ‘So even though The Book of Yore had expressly forbidden us to change the future, I carried Grey from the burning cellar and your mother and I helped him to safety.
‘Arthur Ripley shut The Book of Yore, thinking he had trapped us in the past. But the truth is that we could not have returned anyway because we broke the natural lores of magic. We interfered with the past and that is not permitted. The cost of saving Grey’s life was our lives. But we have no regrets.’
‘But I can save you,’ cried Archie. ‘I can bring you back with me.’
‘No,’ said Amelia Greene, and her gentle eyes smiled at her son. ‘We cannot return after what we’ve done. We knew that at the time and we were happy to pay that price – though it will take another act of selflessness to defeat the Dark Flame.’
Archie felt the tears rolling down his cheeks.
‘I won’t leave,’ he cried. ‘I won’t let you go again!’
‘But you must, my darling,’ his mother said. ‘You have a destiny to fulfil, otherwise our sacrifice will have been for nothing.’
Alex Greene put his arm around his wife. ‘We have missed you growing up,’ he said. ‘We have missed so many birthdays and good times with you. We couldn’t have done it without the certain knowledge that we were leaving you with the most loving and caring family in your grandmother and your aunt Loretta and uncle Woodbine.’
Amelia Greene smiled. ‘We set out to try to keep you safe, and we have never had a moment’s regret. Not one. Not ever. We would do it all again in a heartbeat. So no matter how dark or desperate things seem, never doubt our love.’
Archie wiped his eyes and nodded. He felt his heart was breaking.
‘Do not be sad for us,’ his mother said, and she reached out her hand to touch his face but could not. ‘We have been happy here. We have walked these streets together, and always we have thought of you and your sister, and knew that we might meet you once again in your dreams.’
