Dragon's Green

by Scarlett Thomas

  ‘I don’t want to sell them,’ said Effie.

  ‘Most people like to know their value, though, dear.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Right, I’m picking up one Ring of the True Hero. Very rare. Five hundred pieces of dragon’s gold, roughly, you could sell that for. And at the current exchange rate you’d get one hundred thousand M-currency for that much dragon’s gold. One Athame of Stealth. Less rare, but still pricey. One hundred pieces of dragon’s gold for that, which you could trade for twenty thousand M-currency. And . . . Blimey. Look, Bill – look at what she’s got in here. I’m picking up a cloaked boon worth five blooming million pieces of dragon’s gold. You couldn’t sell that here, love. We’d not have enough to buy it from you.’

  ‘I’m not selling anything anyway,’ said Effie.

  A cloaked boon? That must be the calling card. The one that meant Effie could go to Dragon’s Green whenever she wanted. Effie hugged her bag more closely to her. Was the calling card even safe in there? What if someone took it from her? It sounded as if it would definitely be worth someone’s while.

  Effie swallowed. She’d just have to be very, very careful. And she must remember to ask Pelham Longfellow for advice when she next saw him. Except . . . She remembered that he’d already told her never to go into the Otherworld by any means other than the calling card. And now here she was and . . . The door opened. It was too late. Effie was now in the Otherworld, completely alone.

  Well, she would have been alone, were it not for the fact that she’d come out into a colourful and bustling market. It was daytime in the Otherworld, and bright sunshine fell on everything. There were numerous goblins selling fruits – some of which Effie had never seen before – on polished platters. All of the fruits looked juicy and luscious and she was very tempted to try something, even though her intuition told her that these fruits were dangerous in some way. Luckily she had no money, although several goblins rather bizarrely offered her fruit in return for a lock of her hair.

  There were lots of stalls selling all kinds of things. One stall sold panama hats with bright blue phoenix feathers. Another sold Otherworld herbal blends and teas that you could take back to the Realworld with you. There was also a rare-book stall whose volumes were usually of great interest to Realworld collectors like Leonard Levar – although there was no sign of him there today. There were also were several stalls trading in boons. One had many different wooden staffs and broomsticks for sale, along with some brightly-coloured swords and a magic carpet that had seen better days. Effie saw a wonde like the one she’d given Raven on sale for two hundred pieces of dragon’s gold.

  ‘Dragon’s gold for your boons, miss,’ hissed a trader as Effie walked past.

  She held her bag tightly and walked on.

  ‘Lock of hair for a suck on our fruits, miss,’ said a drooling goblin.

  On the edge of the market was a food stall with two vast cauldrons, one bubbling with a bright yellow soup and another with something called mermaid stew. Effie gulped. Surely not real mermaids . . .? But then she saw a smaller sign explaining that mermaid stew was made from seaweed, samphire, brown shrimp, seashell paste and emerald pepper sauce.

  Where was Levar? Had he already sold the Spectacles of Knowledge? Festus Grimm had said something about selling boons out here, rather than in the Funtime Arcade. Was that what Levar was doing? And would there be time to stop him?

  Then it hit her. Effie suddenly realised that Leonard Levar did this all the time. Of course he did. In a flash she realised that she now understood everything – the reason why he was a book dealer, and why he’d wanted all her grandfather’s rare last editions so much he was prepared to murder someone to get them. He’d known that he would never be able to get hold of them while Griffin was alive, so he’d killed him.

  The reason was now clear. Those books were so rare that each one was the very last copy in the world. And so when Levar read one, all he would have to do was destroy it afterwards to ensure he was its Last Reader. Effie knew now that the Last Reader of any book receives one or more boons – just as Effie had been given the calling card when she’d finished Dragon’s Green. And since you could sell boons for dragon’s gold and then convert that to lifeforce, or M-currency . . . In some cases, quite a lot of M-currency . . .

  That was what Clothilde and Rollo had been talking about. The Diberi clearly consumed books in order to make themselves powerful. They were Book Eaters, willing to convert knowledge into power and then use it to further their ultimate cause – whatever that was.

  So now, presumably, Levar was going to top up his M-currency by selling the Spectacles of Knowledge, a boon he had come to possess without even having to read a book or complete an adventure. Well, they were not his to sell. He had to be stopped.

  Where was he? Effie looked back the way she had come. The market was spread out before her, jumbled and confused as if each stall were a toy that had been laid out on a rug that had been shaken a little. Effie could not see which way to go, even to get back to the Funtime Arcade. Her heart beat faster.

  She turned left and walked down a thin row of dimly lit booths, out of the light and heat of the sun. Many of these were housed in tents made from thick pattered fabrics. Effie peered into one of them and saw that it opened out into a complex network of chambers all lined with silk and beautiful old carpets. Everything smelled of orange peel, cinnamon, cloves and all sorts of exotic, unfamiliar spices. In one chamber there were black velvet chaise-longues with people lying on them drinking from ebony teacups or smoking silver pipes. Another chamber was entirely full of small harps. One contained only a golden hare.

  Before she realised she had even entered the tent, Effie found she was quite lost in this network of chambers and antechambers, a sort of market within the market. Everything here was interesting to look at. There were candied fruits, music boxes, live snakes, precious stones and a whole stall selling items made out of dragon’s blood. You could also, in one tiny chamber, buy a necklace made from frozen dragon’s tears, which would, apparently, protect you from fire. Here, it seemed, was where you bought and sold much more exclusive boons and treasures than the ones outside. Many of these were so valuable that they were displayed in locked glass cabinets. In one cabinet, Effie saw a sword with a turquoise-blue blade and a polished wooden handle. In another was a beautiful silver bow with several feather-tipped arrows. Each was on sale for five hundred pieces of dragon’s gold.

  Then, suddenly, Effie got a glimpse of Leonard Levar. He was taking the spectacles out of his pocket and talking to a man at a wooden counter beyond a red curtain. She crept silently towards Levar, who kept talking to the trader, presumably explaining what he thought the spectacles were worth. The trader didn’t seem to quite agree. He wrote down a figure on a piece of paper and showed it to Levar, who laughed dismissively and tore up the paper. The trader wrung his hands and now seemed to be offering Levar tea from a silver pot. Levar shook his head and pointed at the spectacles again.

  ‘Give those back,’ said Effie, pulling aside the curtain.

  Both men looked at her. Levar’s expression was similar to one you might see on a celebrity whose ugliest, smelliest fan had broken through security and was now trying to engage them in a conversation about how much their music had gone downhill since their first album. Levar looked at Effie like this for a few seconds longer and then went back to talking to the trader.

  Effie took another step closer.

  ‘I said, give those back,’ she said. ‘They’re not yours. You stole them from my friend.’ She looked at the trader. ‘If he is trying to sell these spectacles to you, I should let you know that they are not his to sell.’

  ‘Shoo, please,’ said the trader. ‘You are interrupting us.’

  ‘Yes, can you remove this . . . this thing from your shop?’ asked Levar.

  ‘I’ll leave when I have my spectacles back,’ said Effie. ‘They belonged to my grandfather, Griffin Truelove, who you attempted to kill last
week. You’re not going to get away with that, and you’re not going to get away with taking his books and you’re certainly not going to get away with stealing his spectacles.’

  The more Effie spoke, the angrier she became. The Ring of the True Hero burned hot on her thumb. She pulled the athame from its holder and pointed it at Levar. She wished her hand would stop shaking. She willed it to stop shaking. It almost did.

  ‘Give the spectacles back,’ said Effie again.

  Leonard Levar at least now paid Effie proper attention. He looked her up and down with contempt, but there was a small amount of respect mixed in with his hatred and annoyance. Not that Effie cared what he thought of her. He was a murderer. A book thief. An odious little man who was determined to keep knowledge from others in order that he could turn it into magical fuel for his own selfish use. He was . . .

  ‘Well,’ said Levar. ‘I see you’ve decided to join us.’

  He ignored the athame and pulled up Effie’s sleeve, letting his cold, thin fingers brush her arm.

  ‘Yes, here it is. Your little mark. So you found your way in, did you? How did you do that? No – don’t answer. You are a ridiculous brat and I am a scholar of over three hundred years’ standing. So I will tell you how you got in. You read the five hundredth book. Of course, I knew that Truelove would do something like that. He never was that bright, your grandfather. I could always sense what he was going to do next. I targeted him deliberately, knowing that he was the weak link who would make it easy for me to infiltrate Truelove House and the Great Library. Oh – good – your expression tells me you’ve been there. Ha! I am right. And I see you’re as stupid as he was. So you read a book that took you there and then I suppose they told you to come back and destroy the book. To make certain you are its Last Reader. Because you know what being a Last Reader means, don’t you? Have you destroyed the book yet? Oh – your innocent little stricken expression tells me you haven’t. How very remiss of you.’

  ‘I have,’ lied Effie. ‘I burned it.’

  Levar let out another cruel laugh. ‘Well, then you really have joined us,’ he said. ‘The ancient eaters of books. The Diberi. You think you’re against us, but the only problem with your pathetic grandfather’s stupid plan was that it means that you are forever tainted with the dark magic of the Book Eater.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Effie.

  ‘The reason your lot hate the Diberi is because we use books to get power. We consume last editions and destroy them and reap the rewards. And now it seems you have done precisely the same thing. So I ask you . . .’ Levar now pushed his face into Effie’s, and his cold breath smelled like old fireplaces and dead birds. ‘How, precisely, are you different from me?’

  ‘I am not a thief and I am not a murderer,’ said Effie.

  ‘You will be in a moment,’ said Levar, looking down at the athame.

  ‘Give back what is mine,’ said Effie. ‘That’s all I ask.’

  ‘You talk quite rough for such a pretty little maiden,’ said Levar. ‘But you don’t know anything. I’d give you five minutes with one of those goblins out there. You wouldn’t last more than thirty seconds with me.’

  ‘Well, then, what’s stopping you?’ said Effie. ‘Here I am.’

  Levar looked away briefly. The trader took a step backwards.

  ‘I see. You have no power left,’ said Effie. ‘You used it all up on my grandfather. So now I’ve come to avenge him and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

  Effie had never spoken to an adult like this before. But the more she said, the less nervous she felt. Especially as Levar was not saying anything back.

  ‘You’re the one who is pathetic,’ she went on. ‘And stupid. You’ve made a big mistake. You thought no one would challenge you when he was gone. But you were wrong.’

  Levar suddenly recognised the immense power in the child before him. And she had no fear left. Nothing he could use against her. Well, almost nothing. Was she about to strike? Suddenly, he wasn’t sure.

  ‘Get away from me,’ said Levar. To the trader, he said, ‘Call security.’

  Effie took a step closer to Levar. ‘Give me the spectacles,’ she said.

  Levar raised his wooden staff. ‘I will fight you,’ he said. ‘And if that doesn’t work, I know how to really hurt you. Where have you hidden the book, little maid? Oh, but you haven’t even hidden it, have you? You didn’t realise you’d have to. It’s probably lying there on your little maiden’s bed in your little maiden’s house in— ’

  ‘No!’ said Effie. She raised the athame.

  But all of a sudden he’d flung the spectacles on the ground and was fleeing out of the chamber and into the next one. Effie picked up the spectacles, thrust them in her bag and set off following him as fast as she could. What he’d said about the book . . . Surely he wouldn’t . . .

  But she knew he would. He would now be on his way to find Dragon’s Green, and as soon as he opened it Effie would no longer be its Last Reader. What would happen then? Everything she now was, and everything she now had, would be gone. She had to stop him.

  33

  ‘What do we do now?’ said Lexy. The spiders were safe in Raven’s hair, and the boys were out of danger, but it didn’t look as if Levar was going to unlock the door any time soon. He’d hurried off towards the Funtime Arcade with Effie chasing after him. Lexy gulped. She hoped Effie would be all right. But now there was the problem of how to get the boys out of their prison.

  Maximilian tried the wooden door one more time, but it was no use.

  ‘What about the sword?’ said Wolf. ‘I could try that?’

  ‘What sword?’ said Raven.

  Wolf coughed a bit and got to his feet. He looked a little unsteady.

  ‘This one,’ he said. ‘Max?’

  He had decided, while he was lying on the ground close to death, that one thing he would never do again (if he lived) was say the whole word ‘Maximilian’ when ‘Max’ would do fine.

  Maximilian passed Wolf the letter opener, and the girls watched in amazement as it grew to become the Sword of Orphennyus.

  ‘Wow,’ said Raven.

  Wolf walked over to the door and swung the sword at it – but it just bounced off the solid wood. Wolf suddenly had the strong feeling that this sword wasn’t supposed to cut or physically damage things at all. But then he shook the thought away. What else would a sword be for? But then why wasn’t it working?

  ‘Ow,’ he said, rubbing his wrist.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Maximilian. ‘We have to get out!’ He kicked the door a couple of times, but this just hurt his foot.

  ‘We have to help Effie,’ said Wolf. ‘That guy is pure evil. What happened to Carl and his lock-picking kit?’

  ‘Carl? What does he look like?’ said Raven.

  Wolf described his brother in the most flattering terms he could manage.

  ‘Blond. A bit stupid-looking. Um . . .’

  ‘There’s a blond guy asleep in a car down there,’ said Raven. ‘Lexy, have you got something to wake him up?’

  Effie had lost sight of Leonard Levar, but it didn’t matter. She knew exactly where he was going. He was going back to the Funtime Arcade and into the Realworld and to Effie’s house to get Dragon’s Green. Effie had to stop him. The only trouble was that she didn’t quite know how to get back to the Funtime Arcade.

  Light was fading now, and the goblins were putting away their fruits. But each time Effie walked past one of them she was hissed at, and every goblin who saw her reached out his sharp little hands and tried to pinch or poke her.

  ‘Don’t want to suck our fruits, miss?’ said one. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Look,’ said Effie. ‘Just stop it. How do I get out of here?’

  ‘Ooh, ooh, the maid spoke,’ said the goblin. ‘Give her a fruit, give her a fruit.’

  ‘I don’t want your fruit. I . . . Never mind.’

  But now, as she tried to find the portal, she found herself surrounded by goblins. She had to
try to look over the tops of their heads to see which way she should go, but some of them were quite tall and . . .

  ‘Oh, please go away,’ she said.

  ‘Make us, pretty maid,’ said one of them.

  Effie’s silver ring grew hot. She sensed it making her stronger. And suddenly she found that she was able to pick up this annoying goblin, turn him upside down and simply drop him.

  ‘Ooh, ooh, me next, me next,’ said another goblin. He reached out a bony clawed hand and Effie threw him, karate-style, over her shoulder and onto the ground behind her. Before she knew it she was fending off another goblin, and then another. They seemed almost to be enjoying it. But she was winning. None of them came back to try to attack her again. And the more of them that came towards her, the more of them she simply threw this way and that. She sensed they meant no real harm, so she didn’t get out the athame. When the last one had been flung aside she strode onwards, hoping she hadn’t lost too much time.

  ‘Well, you’re just as brave as they said you would be,’ came a voice.

  ‘Festus,’ said Effie. ‘How do I get out of here?’

  ‘The portal is in the lamp shop over there,’ he said, doffing his hat at her. He must have been shopping today, Effie thought – it was one of the feathered panama hats that she had seen earlier.

  ‘Thank you!’

  Effie hurried on through the door of a vast bazaar-like emporium filled with old-fashioned lamps and strange glass bottles. There was a small area off to the right where a man in a bright blue turban was serving tea from a large gold samovar. Just by the counter was a door with a sign saying, simply, ISLAND.

  Effie showed her mark and papers to a guard, and then she was through the door and walking down a corridor that somehow turned into the alleyway next to the Funtime Arcade. As soon as she was out, she started to run. And as she turned right towards the antiquarian bookshop, she was just in time to see Leonard Levar hurrying away as Wolf stood there with his sword, seemingly unable to do anything.