by Anna James
‘Were they lying when they said it didn’t hurt?’ Oskar said, nudging her and distracting her from her thoughts.
‘No, it’s fine,’ Tilly said. ‘Really, you can’t feel anything at all. I just can’t believe book magic is so easy to get.’
‘Why don’t the Underlibraries get it like this?’ Oskar asked as he closed his hands round a new wooden ball.
‘I wonder if it’s ever even occurred to them,’ Horatio said. ‘Perhaps they always believed they could just take what they wanted. Now stay quiet while the boy pays, and we can be on our way.’
Once Oskar and Tilly had officially paid for their journey onboard the Sesquipedalian, Artemis stepped back down on to the platform, after kissing them both formally on the cheek.
‘It has been a pleasure to meet you,’ she said. ‘I hope that you and Horatio are able to work together to help save the world of stories, and that you’ll come and tell me what you’ve found? And I—’
But she was interrupted by an undignified yell that came from beyond the golden gates. A figure burst through them, before pausing to catch its breath, hands on knees, huffing and puffing.
‘Wait!’ the figure called, out of breath. ‘I wish to come too!’
It was Will.
veryone stopped and stared at Will as he dragged himself over the last few metres to the carriage, cheeks red and hair messy. Tilly couldn’t help but notice that there was a smile on Artemis’s face, as though a plan had come together nicely. Tilly wondered if Artemis was telling them everything she knew about the situation.
‘Forsooth, I have not exerted myself so for many years,’ Will puffed, before looking up at their shocked faces. ‘Do not stare at me agog,’ he said. ‘Mistress Tilly, you can remove items from stories – correct?’
‘Yes,’ she said slowly.
‘Like … me, mayhap?’
‘What?’ she said.
Will took her hand and kneeled in front of her. Tilly was sure she heard Oskar try to suppress a snort of laughter. ‘I believe,’ said Will, ‘that you may possess such powers which may allow me – who had previously been trapped deep within Story, without any hope – to accompany you out of this foul place. By which I mean no offence, my lady Artemis,’ he said, dipping a bow in her direction.
‘None taken, Will,’ Artemis replied. ‘In fact, I took the liberty of collecting a few of your personal effects as you toured the Archive with Tilly and Oskar.’
She handed over a small satchel to Will, who looked at her, caught halfway between amazement and suspicion.
‘I see you had prepared for this eventuality,’ he said slowly. ‘I might even be so bold as to say it was no accident that it was I you paired with these two adventurers in the first place.’
Artemis simply smiled.
‘So, it will work?’ Will asked her. ‘If Tilly accompanies me, I shall be free?’
‘I don’t know for sure,’ Artemis admitted. ‘There’s a risk in leaving, of course, but I believe there is logic to support the idea that it will work as you hope. All characters are able to leave their books, of course, for varying amounts of time, and indeed I wonder, Tilly, if you might have more control over that process than others, if you were to practise.’
‘But I am not a character,’ Will said, bristling. ‘I am a person.’
‘Of course,’ Artemis said. ‘But you’re still bound by Story, and Tilly has shown that she’s able to manipulate the borders of this place more than others. And who knows? You may be able to repay the favour to Tilly and help her on her quest, as it’s by her means you can hopefully leave, as you’ve wished for so long.’
‘Hopefully?’ Will repeated.
‘As I have said, nothing about this is certain,’ said Artemis. ‘But I am sure that if you’re brave enough there are many here who’ll be curious to see how you fare.’
‘Boldness shall be my friend,’ Will said, steeling himself. ‘There is no darkness but ignorance, and I find that I long to know what might lie outside these walls, if Tilly will consent to take me. And I swear I shall try to aid you as best I can – however little use it may be.’
Tilly turned and pulled Oskar to one side. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think he’s actually quite annoying, but why wouldn’t we give it a go?’ Oskar said. ‘I trust him more than Horatio, to be honest. Also, imagine everyone’s faces at home when we rock up with actual Shakespeare! Honestly, Tilly, it’ll be worth it just to see your grandad’s face.’
And Tilly couldn’t help but agree on both counts as they turned back to the waiting adults.
‘As long as you promise not to die horribly if it doesn’t work,’ Tilly said, looking at Will. ‘I won’t be responsible for killing Shakespeare.’
‘Hang on, hang on,’ Horatio said. ‘It’s all well and good giving your permission, girl, but none of this lies with you two. It’s me who decides who comes aboard this train. And what happens if her magic doesn’t work properly? I won’t be held responsible if this fool dies – again – when he tries to leave.’
‘Will is an adult,’ Artemis said. ‘And the risk is his to take. Not yours, or Tilly’s. No one will lay this at your feet if it goes awry. I promise.’
‘And can he pay?’ Horatio said.
‘What is your fee?’ Will asked. ‘For I have no money, nor lands, nor anything of value.’
‘Ah, lucky for you, that’s not how we do things around these parts,’ Horatio smiled. ‘You pay in ideas, and I’ll warrant yours are particularly fine. Quip’ll run beautifully on what’s inside your head, I reckon.’
‘Oh! Such flattery,’ Will said. ‘I shall happily trade you an idea or two to ride aboard such an excellent craft. Would you like it in prose or poetry?’
‘Neither,’ Horatio said, taking a ball and throwing it to Will – who dropped it and had to scrabble around to pick it up again. ‘Come and sit here, and I’ll do all the work for you.’
Will shrugged and climbed on to the carriage, but, after Horatio had explained what to do and set the hourglass running, no sand at all trickled through.
‘Unfortunately,’ Artemis said, watching from the platform, ‘I think you’ll find that Will may be unable to pay in the manner you require. I don’t think he’s sufficiently, well, real in any human sense. He’s essentially pure book magic, and so, short of tossing him in the furnace whole, I don’t think you’ll get much from him.’
Horatio looked appraisingly at Will.
‘Good sir,’ Will said, stepping backwards. ‘Are you in jest?’
‘Of course, you fool,’ Horatio said. ‘Times aren’t yet so hard as to resort to burning writers.’
‘Perhaps in payment I could sign something for you,’ Will offered, ‘if ’tis still worth anything. I assure you it was in my time.’
‘I don’t want your—’ Horatio started, but then paused. ‘Do you know, Master Shakespeare, I have some lovely original folios of yours that are absolutely crying out for a signature, or a note of any sort.’
‘Hang on,’ Tilly said, remembering what Orlando had told her. ‘Original folios? Oh my goodness – you have the Source Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, don’t you? That’s why we can still bookwander into them because they’re here!’
‘Not all of them,’ Horatio said proudly. ‘But most of them. And it sounds like any book is much safer on board the Quip than in the hands of your Underlibraries. And Mr Shakespeare,’ he added, his manner increasing in politeness by the word, ‘if you’ll come with me, I’m sure we can make a deal that suits us both.’
oratio stuck his head out of the door of the payment carriage.
‘Milo!’ he yelled. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes!’ a voice called from the engine room in front of them.
‘Then fire her up!’ Horatio said. ‘You can go and watch if you want,’ he said to Tilly and Oskar. ‘Tell Milo to bring you to the dining car afterwards and we can see where we stand. Quick, up and over before we pick up speed.’ He gestured at the
door.
A ladder made of silver rungs was set into the side of the carriage and they climbed up it on to the top of the train. The Quip was barely moving yet, but it still felt incredibly precarious as they clambered up and then down into the next carriage, the engine cab. Unlike a regular steam train, which would have a huge coal-car for fuel, on the Quip there was simply a cage collecting the wooden balls charged with book magic that were sent through from the carriage they’d just left.
‘I didn’t think I’d see you two again,’ Milo said, grinning widely at them, winding his yellow scarf round his neck an extra time to keep it safe from the pistons. Gusts of sparkling book-magic smoke were seeping out of the edges of the engine and the circular opening, which was obviously meant for the orbs to be dropped in.
‘How long does one payment last?’ Oskar asked as Milo grabbed one from the cage and popped it in, causing another billow of smoke.
‘Depends who it’s been paid by,’ Milo said. ‘But whoever’s ideas they are, they take us pretty far. We usually only need one or two for a journey, which is why we can leave the engine untended sometimes once we get going. We’re nearly full steam ahead.’
‘Your uncle said that you should bring us to the dining car once you’re ready, by the way,’ Oskar said. ‘And I am starving.’
‘Nearly there,’ Milo said, eyeing the level of glittering smoke in Quip’s engine and checking a gauge on its side. ‘And we’re good.’
The three of them climbed back up out of the engine cab on to the roof of the train. Tilly braced herself for having to withstand the wind to stop from falling off, but, as they poked their heads above the canopy of the cab, there was no resistance at all, just a gentle breeze, as though they were on a leisurely countryside walk, not on top of a train going at full speed. And even stranger was that, as they travelled, the world around them started to melt away into blackness. The red brick of the Archive dissolved into what looked like the white stone of the labyrinth and then into inky emptiness. There was nothing to see apart from a smattering of faint light in every direction. It was like looking up into the Milky Way on a clear night.
‘Are these the Endpapers?’ Oskar asked in wonder. ‘I thought you said you don’t stop there very often.’
‘These aren’t technically the Endpapers,’ Milo said. ‘Although it’s what the Endpapers are made of. This is pure Story. It’s how we get around.’
‘It’s … beautiful,’ Tilly said, standing on the top of the train and drinking it all in. ‘Kind of terrifying, but beautiful. Like being in space.’
‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’ Milo said. ‘I never really get bored of seeing it. All the endings and beginnings and memories and half-thought-up ideas all waiting to be used and formed, and our little Quip pushing through it all, powered by imagination. It’s at times like this that I’m glad I’m here; gives you a bit of perspective, doesn’t it? Oh shoot – keep steady – we’re about to go round a plot twist!’
The train swerved abruptly, and it took everything for Tilly and Oskar to stay on top of the train. Once they’d regained their footing, the three of them just sat there for a moment, racing through the expanse of glowing darkness. It was awe-inspiring and quite lovely, until Tilly felt a strange sensation in her fingertips. She glanced down and there were tendrils of smoky book magic sliding across her hands. She shook her hands vigorously, trying to get rid of them, just as Horatio stuck his head out of a window further down the train.
‘Matilda!’ he shouted. ‘You need to come quickly – it’s Will!’
Oh no. She’d forgotten all about Will. What happened if Artemis was wrong, and he couldn’t leave the Archive, and it was her fault? What would even happen to him if they couldn’t get him back in time? She could see from Milo’s and Oskar’s faces that the same thoughts were racing through their brains.
‘We need to hurry,’ she said as the three of them ran for the ladder.
he three of them climbed back down as quickly as they could and ran through several carriages, the ones at the front of the train linked by covered walkways, not the precarious chains and gaps they’d had to jump over at the back. Milo led them through a set of grand double doors that opened on to a long, plush dining room with tables set with crystal glasses, silverware and thick white napkins. But there was barely time to take in any of the luxury of the dining car as Will was lying on the floor between two tables, seemingly unconscious.
Tilly and Oskar rushed over and dropped to their knees by his side. Alarmingly, his edges seemed to be blurred, as though he were dissolving from the outside in, like a sugar cube in coffee.
‘Will?’ Tilly said, gingerly touching his shoulder. The moment she made contact with him, Will took a deep, shaky breath.
‘Tilly?’ he said weakly. ‘You have returned?’
‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘Are you … are you okay?’ But, as they watched, and as Tilly kept her hand on Will, his edges started to firm up, and within a few moments he was back to normal, although breathing heavily and very pale.
‘I am … recovered, it would seem,’ he said breathlessly.
‘Thank goodness,’ said Oskar. ‘Imagine having to explain this to your grandad, Tilly.’
Tilly just glared at him. Did this mean that Will had to stay by her side from now on?
Will was sitting up, his colour returning to his cheeks, although he leaned dramatically against a table, seemingly enjoying the care and attention.
‘Leaving the Archive seems to be all right,’ said Horatio grimly. ‘But only when you’re together. Looks like you might need to stay a bit closer in the future, Matilda, or he might not make it back to London.’
A few minutes later, the four of them were sitting at one of the dining-room tables, with Milo standing hopefully next to them and Will rubbing his hands together as though he were trying to get rid of pins and needles.
‘Tilly, please assure me you will not stray so far from me again,’ Will asked. ‘’Twas most alarming.’
‘How long do you think we’ll need to stay together?’ Tilly said a little nervously, worrying that perhaps they hadn’t thought this all the way through. ‘When we get out of Story, it’ll be more normal, right? I haven’t been next to the key all the time and it’s still here.’
‘I do not know,’ he said woefully. ‘Let us proceed very carefully until we are sure and hope this will be resolved once we have escaped the clutches of Story. I had the most unpleasant sensation deep within me, as though my very essence were being erased. And I still cannot shake the feeling in my bones.’
‘That sounds awful, Mr Shakespeare,’ Milo said, staring at Will like a fan who had unexpectedly bumped into their favourite actor.
‘Go on with you,’ Horatio said, flicking his wrist at Milo.
‘Can’t he stay and eat with us?’ Tilly asked.
‘Of course not,’ Horatio said. ‘He has chores to do. The dining car is for paying guests only.’
‘I’d really like him to stay,’ Tilly said, hoping she sounded braver than she felt. ‘And, if you want us to help you, then we want Milo to help too.’
‘I’m not sure you have anything to bargain with, girl,’ Horatio said, looking irritated.
‘You need me to get the missing books back,’ Tilly said. ‘You’ve got no other way to get them out.’ She hesitated. ‘So I think I do, actually.’
Horatio looked at her for a long time, then sighed. ‘We’ll come back to that once we’ve ordered,’ he said. ‘And fine, he can stay for now, but don’t think this is how it’s going to be.’
Milo’s cheeks were pink with excitement as he slid into the booth next to Tilly and Oskar.
‘So, can you even eat?’ Oskar asked Will, trying to change the subject and take the attention off Milo.
‘What an extremely ill-mannered question,’ Will said. ‘Do I have a mouth? And teeth? A stomach?’
‘Okay, okay, you can stop there,’ Oskar said. ‘I get it! I was just asking! Artemis said y
ou were made of book magic – who knows? I’m just trying to make conversation!’
‘I grant that there is a difference between the wants and the needs of the body, however,’ Will said. ‘Take care to ask what you really want to understand, Oskar. I do not require nourishment, but I am able to eat, and take much gratification from it still. It is one pleasure we were able to take comfort in at the Archive – and I have become a baker of some skill. Scott was most envious of my delicate morsels, I assure you, although he did deign to share with me a recipe for something called a cinnamon roll, which I developed quite the taste for over the years.’
‘So, where are you travelling to, Mr Shakespeare?’ Milo said politely. ‘If you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I suppose I shall go wherever Tilly desires for now,’ he said. ‘As it appears it is her presence that allows me to stray so far from the Archive. I do hope to see London once more.’
‘But you can’t just stay with me forever,’ Tilly said, worried.
‘Forever is such a dramatic word,’ Will said. ‘We shall proceed most carefully once we disembark and see how the situation stands outside this Story purgatory.’
‘But you’re going to help us as well, aren’t you, Will?’ Tilly said. ‘With the missing books and the Underwoods and the Underlibrary?’
‘I cannot see what help I should be,’ Will said, leaning back and thinking. ‘I suppose that I am skilled in discerning the wants and weaknesses of my fellow men, so I may be of some service in that regard. Indeed, it may even be that the universe is presenting me with one last opportunity for greatness. I have long said to myself: Will, be not afraid of greatness when it presents itself, as though a cloak to be put on. For some are born great, some achieve greatness and some, well, some have greatness thrust upon them. And, as I am to be your constant companion, I shall embrace the path laid at my feet.’
‘So … yes?’ Oskar said.
‘Ay,’ Will said, glaring at Oskar. ‘I will help.’
