by D D Everest
Archie stared at the man. He and Hawke obviously knew each other well. Hawke had never mentioned working at the asylum. Or had he been a patient? Perhaps Hawke’s magical ability had unbalanced his mind? Perhaps it was a burden for all those who had magical ability.
The head of Lost Books shook his head. ‘I am well, Rumold. No thank you.’
‘Then what, my old friend?’ said Rumold.
Hawke gave a thin smile. ‘This is Archie Greene,’ he said.
‘Ah, the book whisperer,’ said Rumold.
Archie gave him a sharp look. He didn’t like it that everyone he met was so fascinated by his unusual talent. People knowing his business made Archie uncomfortable. Perhaps they expected him to end up in the asylum, too.
‘We’ve come to see Arthur Ripley,’ said Hawke.
Rumold led them along a corridor to a locked room. He opened a grille in the door.
‘You have visitors, Arthur.’
Rumold unlocked the door. Arthur Ripley sat at a table. His face was badly scarred from the fire he had started at the museum twelve years earlier when he’d tried to steal the Terrible Tomes. His cold grey eyes glinted with malice when he saw them.
‘Gideon, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,’ he said. ‘And you brought young Archie Greene as well. How exciting! To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘I need information,’ said Hawke.
‘Shame, I thought it was a social call,’ sneered Ripley. ‘Whatever it is you want, it must be important to drag you here.’ A smile flickered on his lips. ‘But of course I’m forgetting that you know the place well, don’t you?’
Hawke looked away.
‘So if you’re not here on a social call, let me guess,’ sneered Ripley. ‘You are here because the magic that protects the museum is failing.’
‘The old magic is stronger than you realise,’ said Hawke. ‘It has lasted a thousand years, and it will outlast you. I am here because I need to know what you found in the Darchive.’
It was Ripley’s turn to look away. Hawke pressed him. ‘Surely even you do not wish to see the museum destroyed, Arthur. You were not always like this. If there is any decency left in you, help me.’
Ripley gave a bitter laugh. ‘You disappoint me, Gideon. I thought you’d be able to work it out for yourself. After all, you are the head of Lost Books now. You have access to all those wonderful books and their secrets.’
Hawke shook his head. ‘I have searched through all the texts, but I cannot find it – and I’m running out of time.’
‘Time!’ groaned Ripley bitterly. ‘Don’t talk to me about time.’ His eyes smouldered with anger. ‘You see, in here I have all the time in the world. Time to think. Time to read. Time to write letters.’
Hawke was speaking again. ‘What do you know about the curse?’
‘I know that it was put on the members of the Alchemists’ Club and their descendents,’ said Ripley, slyly.
‘But what is it?’ demanded Hawke. ‘What does it do?’
Ripley looked amused. ‘I’ll make a bargain with you, Gideon. If you get me out of here, I’ll tell you what I know.’
‘I can’t do that,’ said Hawke, ‘as you know full well. But I’ll put in a good word.’
‘A good word!’ snorted Ripley sarcastically. ‘And will you put in a good word for me, Archie? You know I never meant you any harm. If only you’d had the sense to help me release Barzak from the Book of Souls, the new age of magic would have begun by now. Such a shame you had to spoil it all.’
Ripley flared into a sudden rage. ‘That’s the trouble with the Greenes – always spoiling things. Your father was the same. If he hadn’t stolen that book from me, we could have done great things together. But I couldn’t trust him after that. That’s why I had to …’ He stopped. ‘He gave me no choice. Can’t think why he wanted the book anyway. It wasn’t as if it was powerful or anything.’
Archie’s father had been Ripley’s assistant but was expelled from the museum because Ripley alleged he had stolen a book from his private collection. Archie couldn’t accept that his father was a thief. He felt his anger rising.
‘What do you know about my father?’
Ripley looked away. ‘Your father was a fool. He put himself in danger. But I never intended to hurt you,’ he said. ‘That was just a little misunderstanding. Now you need my help. Funny how it all turns around, isn’t it?’ he sneered.
Hawke gave a thin smile. ‘We will prevail, Arthur – with or without your help. I know you disturbed something in the Darchive when you opened it.’
Ripley’s smile vanished. He raised his hand in front of his face as if to ward off some unwanted memory. But almost immediately his expression changed from fear back to anger.
‘You have no idea what lurks in the dark places of the world,’ he spat. ‘There are evils that you cannot imagine.’
‘What did you find?’ said Hawke. ‘I need to know, Arthur.’
For a moment, Ripley hesitated. ‘What Fabian Grey put there,’ he said, watching Hawke’s face for a reaction.
‘That doesn’t help,’ said Hawke, his face a mask.
A smile twitched at the corner of Ripley’s lips. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ He turned to Archie. ‘The funny thing is I think your father suspected what I’d found all along – that’s why he took the journal.’
He looked away.
Until now Archie had had no idea which book his father had taken. Now he knew it was a journal. Ripley had given him a clue.
‘Some say Grey turned into a raven,’ laughed Ripley. ‘Just flew away. And no one’s found him yet.’ What was Ripley driving at?
‘But he’d be over three hundred and fifty years old by now,’ Archie said dismissively.
Ripley’s eyes flashed. ‘Then the curse must have passed on to his descendant. That would be you!’
‘I’m a Greene not a Grey,’ said Archie, but even as he said it, he felt a sudden doubt.
A knowing smile flickered across Ripley’s face. ‘Really, Gideon, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve been keeping secrets. You didn’t tell the boy, did you?’
‘Didn’t tell me what?’ demanded Archie, suddenly unsure of himself.
Ripley gave him a curious look. ‘That you are both,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you ever wonder about the colour of your eyes?’
‘It’s magicians’ eye,’ said Archie. ‘I have one eye that is green and one that is …’ He didn’t finish the sentence.
‘Yes,’ said Ripley, ‘one part Greene and one part Grey. Your father was a Greene and your mother was a Grey.’
Archie stared at Ripley. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He couldn’t breathe.
‘Didn’t they tell you your mother’s maiden name, Archie? Really, how thoughtless of them. And the Greys have such a colourful history, too! But then the Grey name isn’t exactly something to shout about, is it?’
Archie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It couldn’t be true, could it?
He turned to Hawke to refute Ripley’s claim. Hawke looked away and Archie knew it was true. His whole world had just turned upside down.
*
Archie brooded all the way home. He was angry with Hawke for not telling him he was related to Fabian Grey. He wondered how many other people at the museum knew and had known all along. But mostly he was angry with Gran and the Foxes. Why hadn’t they told him? What else were they keeping from him?
As soon as he got home, Archie confronted Loretta and Woodbine.
‘You knew!’ he accused them angrily.
‘We should have told you before,’ said Loretta quietly. ‘But we didn’t want to alarm you. Before she married your father, your mother was Amelia Grey.
‘After Fabian Grey was disgraced, the Grey family name wasn’t something to brag about, so she was happy to swap it for Greene when she married. But she felt responsible.’
‘Responsible for what?’ demanded Archie.
‘For you being a Gr
ey. Your father came here one night very shaken. He said that your life was in great danger because you were descended from Fabian Grey, and he had to find somewhere safe for your mother and sister because they were also at risk.’
Archie felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. ‘So they didn’t die in a ferry accident?’
He suddenly realised that he’d never fully believed the story Gran had told him. Some part of him had refused to accept it.
Loretta shook her head. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Mum thought it was better you believed they were dead than know what happened to them. I’m sure Alex meant to bring the family back together as soon as it was safe, but something happened and he never got the chance.’
Archie felt his stomach drop. Everything he thought he knew about his family was a lie.
Loretta gave a big sigh. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It was wrong of us. But you seemed happy here and we didn’t want to upset you.’
‘We should have told you,’ said Woodbine.
Archie couldn’t breathe. His heart was pounding in his chest.
His family could be alive! Archie felt light-headed. A surge of hope blazed through him like a forest fire. But in the same instant he felt like he had been cheated. Cheated out of what he didn’t know: the opportunity to know them, perhaps? He was overloaded with emotions.
‘Your father knew that you were in danger, but he didn’t know where the danger would come from,’ said Woodbine. ‘That’s why he consulted The Book of Prophecy that night.’
Loretta shook her head sadly. ‘I begged him not to. The Book of Prophecy is too powerful for mortals. All those who have ever consulted it have lost their minds.’
‘What did my father find out? What did the book show him?’
Loretta exchanged anxious glances with Woodbine. ‘We don’t know, dear,’ she said. ‘After he left that night, we never saw him or your mother again.’
*
‘All these years and Mum and Dad never let on!’ said Thistle, his eyes wide, when Archie told his cousins what he’d found out. Archie could see they were as shocked as he was. ‘I thought we knew all the family secrets.’
‘So you’re descended from Fabian Grey,’ said Bramble. ‘Well, that explains a few things. That’s why the raven gave you his ring. You seem to have inherited Grey’s magical gifts. You’re the book whisperer and the one with the forked fate.’
She paused. ‘The question is, what are you supposed to do with your magical talents?’
‘I’m not sure yet,’ said Archie. ‘But we need to lift the curse somehow or none of us will live long enough to find out.’
*
That night Archie lay awake. Finally he was beginning to understand why his father had wanted to keep him away from magic. It was to protect him. And it was to protect the other members of his family that Alex Greene had sent them away.
Archie’s father had consulted The Book of Prophecy. It must have shown him that his son would be in danger from Barzak when he started his apprenticeship. But what else had it shown him that had made him think his family should go into hiding?
There was only one thing to do. Archie would have to consult The Book of Yore again.
19
The Book of Prophecy
When Archie told his cousins what he’d decided to do, they were worried but reluctantly agreed it was their best chance of finding out what had happened to his father and lifting the curse.
‘We’ll be waiting right outside,’ said Bramble the next morning as they approached the Scriptorium. ‘If you’re not back in one hour, we’re going straight to Gideon Hawke. Is that clear?’
Archie nodded gravely. ‘Well, here goes,’ he said, his hand on the door handle. ‘Wish me luck.’
The torches blazed as he entered the room. For a moment, he paused to study the painting again. Now that he knew he was descended from Fabian Grey, he looked to see if there was a likeness. Did Grey have magicians’ eye like him? It was impossible to tell, because in the picture Grey was turning away, his face hidden.
Archie thought about the paint spilled on the floor of Grey’s lab and wondered if the picture had been another of his experiments.
Gloom had said the painting contained a prophecy about the future of magic after all.
The Book of Yore was in its usual place. Archie approached it slowly, gripping the Emerald Eye in his hand.
‘Gadabout,’ he said. The crystal began to pulse as it had before, and Archie felt as if he was slipping out of his own body once more. For a moment he gazed at himself, his hand still gripping the pendant. There was no time to waste.
He addressed the question to The Book of Yore in a clear voice. ‘What happened to my father?’
The book was silent. No pages ruffled.
Archie tried again. ‘What did my father discover in The Book of Prophecy?’
Silence.
The Book of Yore remained firmly shut.
‘Why do you not obey me?’ Archie demanded. ‘I command you to tell me!’
The book was still, but Archie heard something, a murmur like a breeze blowing through the brittle branches of a long-dead tree.
‘The past is gone. Those who disturb may not change it, but they may be changed by knowing it.’ Archie thought he could hear more menace in the voice than usual, as if it was warning him not to cross a line.
‘Yes, I know,’ said Archie. ‘But I need an answer to my question.’
The book flipped open. Its pages ruffled, but when it slammed shut, there was no bookmark.
‘I cannot help you, book whisperer,’ the voice said.’
‘But you contain the history of magic,’ cried Archie. ‘If you don’t know, then who does?’
Silence.
Archie felt a crushing disappointment. He had been so certain that The Book of Yore would be able to tell him the answers.
He was about to turn away when he heard another voice.
‘Some secrets are best left that way, book whisperer.’ It was the same gentle voice he’d heard when he sat at Grey’s desk.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
He was gripped by a sudden fear. He took a step back. ‘Are you one of the Terrible Tomes?’
‘No,’ said the voice, ‘I am not one of the seven, though I wield a power more terrible than any of them, for I foretell the future.’
Archie spun around. The voice was coming from the glass dome where the Books of Destiny were kept.
Inside, The Book of Charms lay limp and silent. But that wasn’t the book he was staring at.
‘I know who you are,’ he cried, his heart beating fast. ‘You are The Book of Prophecy.’
‘Yes,’ the voice said, ‘I am the guardian of destiny. The Book of Yore cannot help you because your quest does not lie in the past. The knowledge you seek is in the future.’
Archie hesitated, unsure whether to trust the voice. He had been deceived by a Terrible Tome before.
The voice sensed his unease. ‘I mean you no harm, book whisperer. I ask only that you listen to what I have to say. It is a story that begins in the past. But its ending is yet to be written.’
Archie took a deep breath. ‘All right,’ he said.
The glass dome swung open. The voice gently continued. ‘I do not tell the certain future, only the possible futures. To know the future is a weight too heavy for most to carry. It has driven many to madness, Fabian Grey among them. Are you ready to take that risk?’
Archie started. What was it that Grey was so desperate to discover that he risked his sanity? And Archie’s father, too.
Archie’s mind was racing. John Dee had warned him not to use the Emerald Eye to see his own destiny. But this was to lift the curse and save the museum. Besides, The Book of Prophecy had said it did not tell the future, it only prophesied about it. Archie wasn’t sure what the difference was, but he hoped there was one.
‘I am ready,’ he said.
The Book of Prophecy suddenly towered over him
. Its cover had become a door with a large brass door knocker. Archie wasn’t sure whether the book had grown or he had shrunk.
The door swung open, and with his heart beating fast, Archie stepped over the threshold.
He found himself in a large, poorly lit room. All around him were bookcases, forming a labyrinth. Each was jammed with old books.
‘Welcome to the Library of Lives,’ said the voice.
Archie gazed around him at the books. He could see that there was something written on their spines. When he looked closer, he realised they were names.
‘This way,’ said the voice. Candles lit a path to show him the way. Shadows loomed at him from unexpected angles.
The candles led him further and further into the labyrinth. Archie wondered if he would ever find his way out. But soon he forgot about leaving. As he passed between the bookcases, he caught glimpses of aisles that were closed off by thick cobwebs.
Ahead of him, a bookshelf blocked his path. He read the name on the spine of the first book. With a start he realised it was his own.
ARCHIBALD OBADIAH GREENE.
‘The future awaits,’ said the voice.
Archie reached forward and took the book from the shelf. He hesitated for a moment. The voice had said he would have to trust it. Making up his mind, he opened the cover.
At first Archie could see only blank pages, but as he watched, moving images appeared. Like an old silent movie, moments from his life flashed before him.
On the day of his twelfth birthday, he saw himself answering the door to Horace Catchpole and snatching the package from his hand. The scene changed and he was catching the flame that Old Zeb had thrown for his Flame test. And now he was standing on the doorstep outside number 32 Houndstooth Road, hesitating before he knocked for his first meeting with the Foxes.
He heard the soft voice in his head. ‘These are the moments that shaped your destiny. They were the result of your own choices. Each led to the next and altered what followed.’
The scene darkened. Archie saw himself facing Barzak and watched himself cast the spell that had banished the warlock back into The Book of Souls.
