Pages and Co 3: Tilly and the Map of Stories

by Anna James

  ‘I used to care, my child,’ Will said. ‘I assure you. But it will take you only to trouble and heartache. I now seek an easier path.’

  ‘I refuse to believe that the man who wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream thinks a nice, quiet life caring about nothing and nobody is the best option,’ said Tilly.

  ‘Does bookwandering mean anything to you any more?’ Oskar said. ‘Or even people reading? The Underwoods want to steal everything good from stories and use it for themselves. They don’t care about anyone else – to be honest, they sound a lot like you except less posh.’

  Will shrugged, but he looked a little flustered. ‘You cannot possibly begin to fathom the torment of existing here,’ he said. ‘I was as you were, propelled by belief in lofty ideals. But I have had them punctured by those who visited this place. To abide here in our loneliness is preferable to becoming embroiled once more in the squabbles and battles of people whose lives are a mere blink of an eye. I would refuse to believe a single man who does not act solely in his own interest exists, even were he to parade before me. I admire your faith, I do, but ’tis misplaced.’

  ‘Listen,’ Tilly said sternly, ‘I did not fly all the way to America, escape a burning library – twice! – nearly get stuck in a forest made of paper – and a labyrinth! – or stow away on an illegal magical train only to get here and have you tell me you don’t care and won’t help!’

  ‘I can tell you nothing else,’ Will said. ‘There is nothing to see that will cheer you, only further people that will thwart you as I have, and I do not care to witness that. Let us return you to the lady Artemis, who can herself explain why she has made you undertake this arduous journey with no hope of success. Perhaps she is as bored as the rest of us, and merely toys with you.’ He sighed. ‘I pity you, I do, but there is nothing more to be said, and I have no desire to entertain you any longer.’

  hakespeare deposited Tilly and Oskar back in the room with the fireplace – and the biscuits – where Artemis was waiting, and left.

  ‘How did you get on with Will?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s not interested in helping us at all,’ Tilly said, feeling utterly dispirited.

  ‘Ah,’ Artemis said. ‘And you told him why you had come?’

  ‘As much as we know why we’ve come!’ Tilly said. ‘Which isn’t much!’

  ‘We thought the Archive was to help bookwanderers,’ Oskar said. ‘But it’s just some dusty old creepy spy library sending out unnecessarily complicated maps.’

  ‘We used to send much simpler maps into the world that allowed bookwanderers to find us,’ Artemis said. ‘They were simply paths through books within books. But people began to trade them and sell them and organise visits here to demand access to the Archive. To study the stories of their enemies, to try to read their own stories before they were finished and affect the outcomes, and so on. As a result, we sent fewer and fewer maps out, and most of the ones that already exist have been lost or destroyed.’

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Tilly said. ‘You sent us a map because something is going horribly wrong and there are books going missing. You asked Horatio to help find the books, I get that, but what are we doing here?’

  ‘I think it is your particular set of skills that we need, Tilly,’ Artemis said. ‘You are able to bring items outside the books you wander into – something I tested for myself by sending you clues you had to extract from stories. If books are being hidden somewhere outside the usual places, I think it is the combination of your abilities, and Mr Bolt’s ability to track books down, that may provide the solution.’

  ‘So, you think the missing books are being hidden inside other books?’ Oskar said.

  ‘I do,’ Artemis confirmed. ‘Although I can’t see inside the Underlibraries, if the books were there, they wouldn’t be causing all of this chaos; they wouldn’t be fraying the very fabric of Story. They’re being hidden somewhere deeper than that, somewhere so deep that it’s as if they’ve vanished; otherwise the world of imagination would not be suffering so much.’

  Some of the pieces of the puzzle started to click together in Tilly’s mind.

  ‘If something’s causing the world of imagination to fall apart, that could be why people are buying fewer books at Pages & Co., right?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, absolutely,’ Artemis agreed. ‘If imagination is being sapped from the world somehow, then people will start to care less about stories, without even realising why.’

  ‘And, if a book has disappeared, it could make someone forget all about it?’ she went on, thinking about the man who had forgotten which book he was looking for.

  ‘Yes, to some degree,’ Artemis explained. ‘It’s not an exact science, and it does depend where these books have been hidden, but if they’re being taken out of the chain of readers and writers then it’s almost like they were never written, and any effects they might have had on a person – or the world – would vanish as well. That’s why it’s so imperative that we retrieve them. And, Tilly, I think you might be the only person who can.’

  ‘So, you brought us here to help you, not the other way round?’ Tilly asked. ‘It’s just a bonus if this sorts out the Underwoods too?’

  ‘From what you have told me, I think all of this is connected, one way or another,’ Artemis said. ‘So, it’s a case of us all helping each other. I would much rather not have people such as the Underwoods in charge of any Underlibrary, however fractured our relationship with that institution is. We’re all on the same side here, I promise.’

  ‘Does Horatio know about this plan?’ Tilly asked, feeling rather uncomfortable about the prospect of having to trust Milo’s uncle.

  ‘Most of it, yes,’ Artemis replied. ‘Of course, there will be similar gaps in his knowledge to mine, in terms of what’s happening with the Underwood siblings and what has gone on at the Underlibrary. And I think it’s time to fill those in if—’

  But she was interrupted by Horatio bursting into the room without knocking, trailed by a flustered-looking Will.

  ‘My good lady,’ Will said, ‘this gentleman from the train claims that he must speak with you now. I asked him to remember his manners, and that you are entertaining our young guests, but he would have none of it.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Artemis said. ‘We were just about to come and look for Mr Bolt anyway, as the time has come to formulate our plan. Will, Tilly and Oskar tell me you don’t wish to offer your assistance, so you are welcome to leave us to it.’

  ‘I think it is probably wise if I stay and ensure this gentleman does not cause more mischief,’ said Will.

  ‘As you wish,’ Artemis replied, with a small smile. ‘Tilly, Oskar, would you permit me to fill in the gaps for Mr Bolt?’

  Tilly didn’t trust Horatio Bolt at all: he seemed rude and unkind, and she didn’t like how he spoke to Milo. She looked at Oskar and could see from his face that he agreed. But it was impossible to say any of that in front of Horatio, and if, after they’d come all this way, Artemis felt that he could help to find the missing books and stop the Underwoods, then Tilly wasn’t sure they had much choice. She shrugged her agreement.

  Artemis proceeded to share what she had learned about what was happening at the British Underlibrary, occasionally pausing to ask Tilly and Oskar for more details. Horatio listened and nodded, but said nothing.

  ‘Now, Mr Bolt,’ Artemis finished, ‘you know that I have commissioned you to try and find some of these books. As you all know, my theory is that these volumes are being hidden somewhere that breaks all the rules of Story, and that is why all copies of some books are disappearing, why the Archive is crumbling around us, and why the very foundations of Story seem to be under threat. These missing books are the crucial element and, when we find them, all will become clear, I am sure of it.’

  ‘While I’m genuinely interested in these theories,’ Horatio said, ‘I’m not sure how they alter what we’ve already discussed; I have already taken on your commission to find these books. You’ve paid
me my deposit, and therefore I don’t need to understand your reasoning.’

  ‘I’m coming to that, Mr Bolt,’ Artemis went on. ‘As I’ve established, if rare books are being removed or hidden from the chain of readers and writers, the repercussions are grave. What you don’t know, Mr Bolt, is what Tilly can do to help. She has some wonderful and unusual skills: she has found that she’s able to bring items she finds inside books out with her. Between the two of you, I think you’ll be able to find these books, and recover them. I wish that I was able to come with you, but I can’t leave the Archive.’

  Will sighed noisily in the background. He had been making a great show of inspecting the various paintings, but the blank piece of wall he was now standing in front of made it obvious that all his attention was on the conversation.

  Horatio, though, was looking at Tilly with much more interest than he’d shown before.

  ‘You can remove items that you didn’t take inside the books yourself?’ he asked and Tilly nodded.

  ‘That’s a curious skill to have acquired, girl,’ he said. ‘Where might you have picked that up?’

  ‘That’s not relevant right now,’ Artemis said, and Tilly was relieved she was keeping some of her secrets.

  ‘I see,’ Horatio said. ‘And is it just books she can lift?’

  ‘I don’t lift anything,’ Tilly said, offended. ‘But no. I’ve … acquired other things too. Bits and pieces.’

  ‘Could you remove people also, do you think?’ Will piped up, dropping any pretence that he wasn’t eavesdropping.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Tilly said. ‘I’ve never tried.’

  ‘I see,’ said Will thoughtfully, stroking his goatee.

  ‘Well, we can work out what you can do and what you can’t as we go,’ Horatio said. ‘If you can be trusted.’

  ‘How dare you!’ Tilly said. ‘How do we know we can trust you?’

  ‘I’m the most trustworthy sort of person to do business with,’ Horatio replied, ‘because I don’t care about any of this. I work, and I get results, for those that pay me my fees, and Ms … Ms …’

  ‘Artemis will do,’ she said. ‘Or you can call me the Bibliognost.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ Horatio stumbled on. ‘Anyway, this lady here has agreed terms that ensure I’ll be trustworthy. Can you say the same?’

  ‘We’re not being paid anything,’ Oskar chimed in. ‘We’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘But almost everyone thinks they’re doing the right thing,’ Horatio said smugly. ‘Them’s the most dangerous folks to work for in my experience. But for now I think we can probably agree to work amicably enough together?’ He stuck a hand out.

  There didn’t seem to be any other option, not to mention any other way back home. Tilly shook it, and so did Oskar.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ said Horatio.

  ‘The question that forms,’ Will said, coming closer to the group, ‘is how you found your way here yourself, good sir?’

  ‘The same way any of your other visitors do, or did,’ Horatio said. ‘I found a map. Or rather I was sold a map. I was curious as to where it might lead, and here I am. I know a business opportunity when I see one. And the best kind of deal is where everyone gets what they want, as seems to be the case here. Now, can we get on? I have things to do, places to see, books to find.’

  ‘Do you mean to return to London?’ Will asked Tilly and Oskar. ‘Oft I have imagined what it would be to feel the breeze off the Thames on my face again.’

  ‘Can we go via London?’ Tilly asked hopefully. ‘Maybe my family could help; they know a lot about bookwandering. Actually, my grandma might be particularly useful; she used to be the Cartographer at the …’ She tailed off, remembering what Milo had said about Horatio’s feelings about the Underlibraries.

  ‘I know where you mean,’ Horatio said. ‘And we’ll have to see about getting former Underlibrary employees involved, especially if they want to see the Quip.’

  ‘You will have to trust Mr Bolt as to the best route and direction,’ Artemis said to Tilly and Oskar. ‘That’s what his expertise in this mission is after all. But there’s no harm in allowing these two a moment at home, or in garnering help from elsewhere if need be. And, if our theories are correct, a visit to the Underlibrary might become a necessity in finding these books – however you feel about it. And remember, I’ll be keeping an eye as well, and Mr Bolt knows how to get in touch.’

  ‘I do,’ he assented. ‘And remember, this time you two’ll be paying the fee for travelling on my train.’

  ‘We barely have any money,’ Tilly said. ‘My mum gave us some dollars – are they any good?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not your money I want,’ Horatio said. ‘It’s your imagination.’

  hey said a polite goodbye to Will, who watched them mournfully as they followed Artemis and Horatio through the gardens back towards the train station. For a second, he looked like he was going to shout after them, but seemed to change his mind at the last moment.

  ‘Come on then,’ Horatio said. ‘No time to waste.’ He didn’t hold a hand out to help either of the children onboard, but let them clamber up themselves.

  The carriage they climbed up into was very fine. It was a mixture of Victorian steampunk and old-fashioned elegance. There was a lot of dark wood and deep-pile carpet, but the room was also full of

  Horatio and Artemis climbed in behind them, and he went straight to the desk to open a large ledger, dipping a quill into the inkpot that rested next to it.

  ‘Firstly, Ms Artemis,’ he said smoothly, ‘I am still owed your payment for the first journey these two made.’ He wrote something down in the ledger as Artemis sat on a stool by the desk and picked up one of the wooden balls from the chute and held it tightly in both hands. She closed her eyes and nodded to Horatio, who turned over a large hourglass filled with black sand on the desk.

  And then … nothing.

  Artemis simply sat there, eyes closed, silent until the sand had drizzled through the hourglass and Horatio gave a cough to signify it was done. Artemis popped the ball into the empty chute by the desk and, without warning, it was sucked up and disappeared through the gap. She repeated the process again – to pay for both of them, Tilly realised.

  After the two orbs had been sent through, Artemis brushed her hands together, then shook Horatio’s.

  ‘Happy?’ she said.

  ‘Of a sort,’ he replied. ‘As close to happy as I’m likely to get, so long as people are paying their dues. Quip can’t run on promises and goodwill: she needs the ideas and the imagination to go.’

  ‘So you’ve told me before,’ Artemis said. ‘Now, Tilly – are you happy to go next?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry – it’s really very simple. Just take a ball, hold it tightly and think.’

  ‘Think what?’

  ‘Anything,’ said Artemis. ‘You can daydream, or make a shopping list, or recite a poem in your head.’

  ‘We prefer good ideas,’ Horatio said. ‘But as you’re so young, and it’s your first time riding our Quip, I won’t be picky. See it as a first-time customer deal. And don’t worry: I have no idea what you’re thinking – the only person that gets to see what’s inside your head is Quip as she burns it up.’ He turned and scribbled in his ledger again before picking up a great ink stamp next to the book and thudding it down.

  ‘What are you writing down?’ Oskar asked, peering at the page.

  ‘Just your names,’ Horatio said. ‘And stop spying, boy. Our passenger records are absolutely confidential. Many of our clients value their privacy very highly and don’t want nosy little boys reading their business. Now you, girl, what’s your full name?’

  ‘Matilda Rose Pages,’ Tilly said, sitting down on the stool and taking an orb, which was smooth and much colder than she was expecting. ‘And I can just think of anything at all?’

  ‘Anything at all,’ Artemis
said.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Tilly asked nervously.

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ Artemis reassured her. ‘Are you ready?’

  Tilly nodded and Horatio turned the hourglass over. Tilly’s mind went absolutely blank and she looked at the hourglass to see that the grains of sand were barely falling as all that was in her head was worry about thinking good thoughts.

  ‘Why don’t you close your eyes?’ Artemis said gently. ‘And think about your favourite book perhaps?’

  And so Tilly did. She tried to blank out the sounds and smells of the train and the nervousness in her stomach that she couldn’t quench about working with Horatio, and that when it boiled down to it the Archivists hadn’t really been that much help at all, and her worries about explaining to her family that it might all have been for nothing if they couldn’t find these books. Instead, she thought about Anne Shirley and what she would have to say about all of this. Tilly remembered visiting Green Gables for the first time and walking through the idyllic woods with Anne and Oskar as they first learned about bookwandering. She thought about how Anne always saw the best in everyone and everything, about how she always tried to do the right thing, and …

  ‘You’re done,’ Horatio said.

  Tilly’s eyes opened, and where she really was rushed back in. She looked at the ball in her hands and noticed that it was smoking slightly, with the same black, glittery dust that she’d seen billowing out of Quip’s chimney.

  ‘What is that?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s magic,’ Horatio said. ‘Book magic.’

  ‘It doesn’t look much like book magic,’ Oskar said. ‘I thought it was all sticky and black.’

  ‘That’s what it looks like when it’s extracted violently,’ Horatio said. ‘When it’s taken unwillingly. It’s how the Underlibraries get their book magic, but you don’t have to do it that way. That there is what it’s supposed to look like.’

  Tilly remembered what Milo had said – that book magic wasn’t a very good name for it, because it wasn’t really to do with books at all, it was to do with stories.