Archie Greene and the Magician's Secret

by D D Everest

  Archie heard running footsteps and saw Gideon Hawke and Morag Pandrama racing towards him. Morag Pandrama screamed a warning.

  Archie whirled around and to his horror saw Barzak’s grotesque face appear in the cover of The Book of Souls as he made one final attempt to claw his way free of his prison.

  ‘Archie,’ cried Gideon Hawke. ‘The clasp!’

  In a single movement, Archie picked up the silver clasp from the floor and fastened it. With a final exhalation of breath, The Book of Souls clicked shut.

  40

  Bookends

  An hour later, Archie, Bramble and Thistle were sitting in Quill’s sipping hot chocolate with extra cream and marshmallows.

  ‘Archie, are you sure you are all right?’ Gideon Hawke asked, his voice full of concern.

  ‘Yes,’ said Archie. The book of blessings lay limp and lifeless in his hand. He looked at Hawke. ‘She gave us courage when we needed it,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ breathed Hawke. ‘It was the last of her magic. You’re lucky to be alive. Now you need to rest.’

  ‘But there’s so much I want to know,’ Archie protested. ‘What was von Herring’s part in it all?’

  ‘He was working with Arthur Ripley all along. They kidnapped Geoffrey Screech on his way to work. That’s why the bookshop was unexpectedly closed the day you and Arabella were meant to bring your books. We found Screech safe and well at Ripley Hall. He’d been enchanted to keep him quiet but he will recover.’

  ‘And the almanac was a decoy?’ Archie asked.

  ‘Yes. It came from the Ripleys’ private library and was intended to throw us off the trail of the real Terrible Tome. And when that didn’t work, Barzak orchestrated the attacks on the museum, including the flarewolf. He could do that from inside The Book of Souls, but he needed a book whisperer to release him from the book.’

  ‘Did Arabella know about the plan?’

  ‘No, I think she was just a pawn in the game, like you. That girl has many faults but she probably saved Wolfus’s life after the flarewolf attacked him. I suspect Veronica Ripley knew.’

  ‘And Rusp … ?’ asked Archie.

  ‘Was working for me,’ said Hawke. ‘There was a lot at stake and I needed to know what was going on. It became even more important when you wouldn’t co-operate.’

  ‘I see,’ muttered Archie, ‘so it wasn’t him who dropped the imagining glass at the Aisle of White?’

  ‘No,’ said Hawke. ‘That was von Herring. He took it from the museum. He had a weakness for magical instruments. He would have taken Dee’s pendant as well. I imagine it was von Herring who released the flarewolf from the popper stopper to cause a diversion while he kidnapped your cousins.’

  ‘And John Dee’s ghost?’ Archie asked.

  Hawke smiled. ‘Dee’s spirit was finally released from its long vigil,’ he said. ‘He is at peace now.’

  ‘Good,’ said Archie. He liked the old man despite all the trouble he had caused for him. He looked up to see Loretta and Woodbine striding purposefully towards them.

  ‘My darling children!’ Loretta trilled. ‘We came as soon as we heard. Thank heavens you are safe!’

  ‘What ho, young ’uns,’ cried Woodbine, and his large hand gripped Archie’s in one of his knuckle-crunching handshakes.

  ‘It’s good to see everyone!’ Archie smiled. ‘Well, almost everyone. I wish Gran could be here.’

  ‘She’s having quite an adventure of her own,’ said Loretta. ‘She said she’ll tell us all about it when she gets home.’

  At that moment, Pink arrived with a large jug of steaming hot chocolate and a plate of cakes.

  ‘Ready for a refill?’ she asked. ‘It’s on the house.’ Bramble and Thistle cheered loudly. Archie grinned.

  *

  Sixty miles away, at the London offices of Folly & Catchpole, Horace Catchpole shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Prudence Folly, the firm’s senior partner, was seated opposite him across her desk.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Prudence said, regarding Horace as a falcon might watch a rabbit. ‘Not only did you forget to deliver the message with the package, you then decided to ignore the firm’s rules by opening the scroll and translating it.’

  Horace nodded. His chin, already low, dropped a bit more.

  ‘Do you have anything to say in your defence?’

  Horace took a deep breath. ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘the scroll was written in a magical language. If I hadn’t opened it they wouldn’t have got the message at all.’

  Prudence’s face softened. Her thin lips curled into an uncustomary smile. ‘I like it, Catchpole! It shows that our special services are still appreciated. Folly & Catchpole has been the Lore firm of choice for the magically minded for centuries! This proves that we still have a place in the world.’

  Horace smiled brightly. Maybe there was still a chance he’d get a promotion in the spring after all. He hoped that what he was about to say wouldn’t ruin everything.

  ‘It was the least I could do,’ he said. ‘But there’s something I haven’t told you.’

  Prudence sat forward in her chair. ‘Yes?’

  ‘There’s another package for Archie Greene …’

  *

  Inside the crypt in the Museum of Magical Miscellany, seven iron cages rested on their marble plinths. The fifth cage was still empty. The Book of Souls was finally at rest, but in a separate and very secure place, guarded by one of the bookend beasts. The other Terrible Tomes were shut tight.

  Inside the glass dome in the Scriptorium, The Book of Reckoning was open. The hourglass in its spine gleamed in the light from the single lamp that lit the gloom. The grains of sand inside the hourglass were still. And the Bennu bird quill, poised above its open page, twitched and danced to the rhythm of life and death.

  The other Book of Destiny was closed. But at that moment, inside The Book of Prophecy, a name was being erased … And another was being written … But that’s another story.

  Acknowledgements

  Every book is a journey, and this one was long and winding. Thanks are due to some special people without whom Archie and I could not have made it.

  To Dan, Erin and Harry (the Cat Suit Club) who were the first to read about Archie’s adventures and encouraged me to carry on. To my sister, Pig, who lived and breathed it with me; and to Bryan for being Bryan.

  To my agent Jo Hayes, who along with Paul Moreton and Eddie Bell at Bell Lomax Morton, thought there might be something there.

  To Leah Thaxton, Rebecca Lee and everyone at Faber who believed in Archie’s magic and took a chance.

  To my editors Alice Swan at Faber and Antonia Markiet at HarperCollins, who brought discipline, Chelsea buns and so much more, to transform a rough manuscript into something readable.

  To Emma Eldridge for the inspired cover design; and to James de la Rue for his brilliant illustrations. To project editor James Rose for his patience and good humour with the last minute edits.

  To Stuart and Ro for their friendship and indulgence when I should have been writing other things.

  Finally, to Sara for her belief and love.

  At the top of a steep hill in the Cotswolds, the Foxe family car, a battered purple Morris Traveller, pulled off the road onto the verge. They had just driven through the villages of Sludge-on-the-Wold and Chuffing Bumpton.

  Loretta Foxe wound down the window. ‘We’re here!’ she exclaimed, pointing at a mud-spattered road sign with a purple fingernail. ‘The Hey-on-What Magical Book Fayre is the greatest magical book fair in the country!’

  Thistle looked at Archie and raised his eyebrows. Archie grinned. Loretta had talked about nothing else for weeks.

  ‘Um, actually Mum, I think you’ll find it’s the only magical book fair in the country,’ corrected Bramble.

  Archie gazed at the scene before him. He could see an enormous marquee that looked like a circus big top. Surrounding it were three other marquees of differing sizes, and dozens of smaller temporary b
uildings, mostly tents, with their brightly coloured canvases flapping in the chilly autumnal breeze.

  Soon, the children were having a wonderful time. The magical book fair was full of fascinating sights and smells. As well as lots of books for sale, there were all manner of other magical stalls and attractions, including fire-eaters and several fortune-tellers.

  Archie spotted a sign above one stall that said: ‘The Siren Sisters. We Scry Harder!’

  He pointed it out to Bramble.

  ‘The Siren Sisters, I’ve heard of them,’ she said. ‘There are two of them. They work together as a team. Apparently, one is a fortune smeller and the other is a fortune yeller.’

  ‘Ha ha!’ laughed Archie. ‘Very funny!’

  ‘No, I’m serious,’ said Bramble. ‘One of them is blind but can tell your fortune by your scent and the other one shouts out what’s going to happen.’

  Archie gave his cousin a sideways look. ‘Half the time I can’t tell whether you are making this stuff up,’ he said.

  ‘No, it’s all true,’ said Bramble with a grin.

  ‘Well I still have some money left,’ Thistle declared. ‘I’m going to give the Siren Sisters a go. Come on.’

  He darted past the ‘We Scry Harder’ sign and into the interior of the tent. Archie and Bramble followed behind.

  ‘I’m not sure about this,’ Bramble muttered to Archie as they ducked under the canvas awning.

  ‘Fortune tellers are a funny old lot.’

  At that moment, two very odd looking women appeared from behind a curtain at the back of the tent. They were of indeterminate age somewhere between thirty and sixty – it was hard to be any more precise. Both were tall. One had flaming red hair that spilled like volcanic lava down her back and jade-green eyes. She wore a long green cloak, with knee-length brown boots. Around her neck was an amulet with a picture of a large black bird on it. Her eyes were as green as jade. The other woman had glossy, black hair in an aggressive pixie cut. Her black leather jacket almost reached her ankles. Around her wrist she wore a bracelet with a wolf on it. Despite their differences there was a resemblance that suggested they might be related.

  The two women loomed over the three children.

  ‘We have visitors,’ said the redhead her eyes flashing.

  ‘Who is it, sister?’ The other woman was staring straight ahead blankly.

  ‘It is three children, Hemlock. A brother and a sister and their cousin. I believe they want their futures told.’

  Hemlock smiled. ‘Very well.’

  ‘We’ve got money,’ blurted Thistle, recovering from the shock of meeting these two odd sisters.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ smiled the redhead. ‘I am Delphinium. A pleasure to meet you. Thistle Foxe – you should be wary of your curiosity. It will lead you into trouble.’

  Hemlock sniffed deeply. ‘And you, Bramble, must remember that you are stronger when you stand with someone than when you stand apart.’

  Her nose twitched a second time and she turned her head towards Archie. She pulled a face as if she had caught a whiff of something unpleasant.

  At that same moment, Delphinium’s head sagged forward as if she was in a swoon.

  ‘What is this? Who are you?’ Hemlock cried, turning towards Archie.

  ‘I’m Archie,’ he replied, falteringly. ‘Archie Greene.’

  ‘I cannot read you.’

  At that moment, Delphinium’s head suddenly jerked back and she began to yell, ‘BEWARE THE RAVEN’S WARNINGS! The boy has Forks on him! Archie Greene has Forks on him!’

  About the Author

  D. D. Everest is a successful business journalist and author who has written a number of adult non-fiction books. Archie Greene and the Magician’s Secret is his first book for children. Des lives with his family in a rambling Victorian house on the Ashdown Forest. He is currently working on a sequel called Archie Greene and the Alchemist’s Curse.

  Copyright

  First published in 2014

  by Faber & Faber Ltd

  Bloomsbury House

  74–77 Great Russell Street

  London WC1B 3DA

  This ebook edition first published in 2014

  All rights reserved

  Text © D. D. Everest, 2014

  Illustrations © James de la Rue, 2014

  Cover illustration by James de la Rue

  The right of D. D. Everest to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  ISBN 978–0–571–30740–1