by Alex English
Echo sighed. ‘I don’t know anything about her. I haven’t seen her since I was a baby. And I don’t see how she could be connected to the Black Sky Wolves. All I know is I have her pin and now all sorts of people are after me.’ She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I thought going to Evergreen and Spruce would get me closer to finding out about her, but now I’m even further away.’ Echo’s eyes filled with tears. She’d had such high hopes for her visit. She’d really thought the jeweller would somehow remember selling her mother the hairpin. Have an address, or at least a name. Or something.
‘Hey, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to . . .’ Abena trailed off, then awkwardly put an oil-stained hand over Echo’s.
Echo rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and swallowed down her sadness. ‘It’s all right,’ she said.
‘I’ll help you if I can,’ Abena said. ‘And you’re not further away from finding out about her – the Black Sky Wolves are your next clue.’ She smiled. ‘When I was a little kid, my big brothers used to play at being the Heartless Violet Pilots or the Thunder Sharks all the time. I dreamed of joining a band of sky pirates.’ She took a slurp of tea. ‘Until I found out how horrible and violent they all were, that is.’ She grinned. ‘The captain of the Black Sky Wolves fires people out of cannons if she doesn’t like the look of them.’
Echo swallowed. Had her mother been caught up in something dangerous?
‘Sorry,’ said Abena, catching the look on Echo’s face. ‘What I’m saying is, I bet one of my big brothers will know something about them. I’ll ask them as soon as I can.’
Echo nodded gratefully and blew her nose on her sleeve. Maybe this wasn’t the end of the trail after all.
‘Come and find me at the Mech Market in a few days.’ Abena drained her teacup and got up.
‘Are you leaving?’ Echo glanced around, inadvertently catching the eye of a tattooed woman with a gleaming gold tooth. She lowered her gaze and pulled her cap down. Would she be safe here on her own?
Abena nodded. ‘It should be fine now.’ She looked through the grubby window at the darkening streets, then tipped her hat at Echo. ‘See you soon. And be careful with that pin. No one’s ever found the rest of the Black Sky Hoard. You don’t want people to think you might know where it is.’
Echo sat for a while as the tavern filled with the glow of gas lamps and the laughter became more raucous. She was about to risk leaving when she caught a glimpse of oily black hair and froze. It was the black-haired man from the jeweller’s. And he was making his way from patron to patron at the bar, stopping to talk to each one. Was it a coincidence he was here, or could he be looking for her? Instinct made Echo shrink back into her seat and pull the monocle back down over her eye. Only when the man had reached the far corner of the bar and turned his back was she finally brave enough to slip out of her seat and scramble outside.
She ducked her head down and scurried through the back alleys, her heart racing, not daring to make eye contact with anyone she passed until she was safely back in Hawthorn Square.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘Where on earth have you been?’ hissed Horace when Echo finally appeared in the professor’s parlour. ‘I haven’t been able to concentrate at all. I’ve been rereading the same two paragraphs of Bagshott’s Animalarium all night!’
‘Sorry to ruin your studies,’ said Echo, folding her arms across her chest. ‘I’ve been on the run from the Queen’s Guard.’
‘Oh really,’ said Horace, rolling his eyes. ‘I fed Gilbert by the way. He seems to have made friends with the cats now.’ He gestured at one of the baskets in the corner where Gilbert was curled up with Pumpernickel.
‘Thanks,’ muttered Echo, scooping the lizard up and putting him on her shoulder. ‘And I really was on the run. There’s a wanted poster stuck to a wall on Fortescue Street already. I had to hide out in a tavern for criminals until it was safe to come back.’
‘You’re really wanted?’ Horace let his copy of Bagshott’s Animalarium drop to the table with a thud. ‘But what for?’
Echo was about to answer him when Professor Daggerwing emerged from his study, examining some papers covered in calculations. Beetlecrusher, Sugarsnap and Fred twined themselves round his ankles. ‘Ah, the old Cog and Gasket, was it?’ he said, without looking up.
‘Do you know it?’ Echo said, surprised.
‘I do indeed. The nature of exploration means you sometimes need the services of the, er . . . less salubrious types.’ Professor Daggerwing glanced at his watch and blinked. ‘Gosh, it’s jolly late. I must’ve been caught up in my calculations. How did you find the old place? I haven’t been there in an age.’
Echo grasped for words. ‘The cake was very nice.’
‘Marvellous. And you’re here now so all’s well that ends well, eh?’
Echo bit her lip and nodded. How much had he heard? She didn’t want him to know too much about her escapade. He might not let her stay if he thought she was a criminal. Her mind whirred. ‘Just a misunderstanding at the jeweller’s. Nothing to worry about.’
‘Good, good,’ said the professor, still absent-mindedly staring at the sheaf of papers in his hands.
Echo paused. ‘Professor, have you ever met sky pirates on your travels?’
The professor put his papers down. ‘I have had the odd brush with a pirate, come to mention it,’ he replied. ‘Luckily, they don’t bother too much with rickety little ships like mine. It’s usually the big merchant vessels they’re after. Or each other!’
‘And have you ever heard of the Black Sky Wolves?’
The professor suddenly looked serious. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, just interested,’ said Echo.
The professor sat down at the table. ‘They were the most notorious crew of sky pirates around, got outlawed from the city after they hijacked the Royal Zeppelin and stole the Crown Jewels. That was years ago, of course. They escaped beyond the city limits and that’s the last that was heard of them.’
‘But where did they go?’ asked Echo, trying not to let her desperation show. Abena was right – the Black Sky Wolves were her next clue. She had to find out their connection to her mother and somebody must know where to find them. ‘I’m going to go out first thing tomorrow and—’
‘You can’t go out,’ said Horace. He gave her a meaningful look. ‘The posters, remember?’
‘But how can I find out about them?’ Echo clenched her fists in frustration. She couldn’t waste time sitting around. She had a mother to find and the Black Sky Wolves were the only clue she had!
The professor rubbed his chin. ‘Well, I suppose I could take you two along to the Explorers’ Guild if you’re so interested. Someone there might have more information about the Black Sky Wolves.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Although I can’t see why you’d want to know about such a violent bunch of criminals.’
‘Can’t we go now?’
The professor shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it’s not done to just show up at the Guild. It’s strictly invite only. But there’s not long to wait.’ He picked up his diary from the bureau and riffled through it. ‘Yes! The next meeting is tomorrow night. In the meantime,’ he said, ‘who’s for a late-night snack? I’ve found a lovely jar of pickled bogplant that would be perfect on crumpets.’
The next day, Echo felt quite trapped at Hawthorn Square. Although Professor Daggerwing had made sure she had plenty to eat and a pile of books to read, he was busy in his study all day and didn’t emerge at all. Meanwhile, Horace was either mooning over the butterfly eggs that he’d procured that morning from a sympathetic keeper at the Tourbillon Butterfly House, or losing himself in the professor’s book collection, where he was reading everything on bugs he could find.
Unable to explore outside for fear of being caught, Echo had to make do with searching the professor’s books too, but there wasn’t anything on sky pirates. ‘This is hopeless, Gilbert. I can’t find anything helpful,’ she said, as she slammed yet another dusty book shut.
> Gilbert scuttled down from the top bookshelf with a dismal chirrup, as if to say, No luck here either.
Echo sighed. Maybe one of the professor’s maps would give her an idea. He’d said the Black Sky Wolves had been outlawed from Port Tourbillon, so that meant they had to be hiding somewhere else. She pulled out Mrs Milkweed’s latest work and took it into the dining room, where she unrolled it across the table.
‘Oh, Gilbert, where do we start?’
The map took up the entire table. Lockfort was merely a small red circle in the south-west, surrounded by the grey of the Barren. And the rest of the world was so vast! Echo traced her finger from Port Tourbillon, across the Verdigris Plains to Galligaskins, where the professor had dozed off and got lost before arriving in Lockfort. But there were so many more places too: the cities of Cinnabar in the west, Bonneville and Ambercourt in the north, Ratamacue in the east and the cluster of islands that made up the Violet Isles in the great Stony Sea to the south. Beyond Ratamacue and Dark Nordland, Echo saw Mrs Milkweed had written Dragonlands, Terra Incognita. Lands unexplored. It was so much more than she had ever imagined. And it had been there all along! But how would she ever find her mother in a world so large?
‘What are you doing?’ said Horace, appearing in the doorway behind her. ‘Trying to find the way back to Lockfort?’
Echo turned and took in his leather jerkin and boots. ‘Something like that.’ She frowned. ‘You’re going out again, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Without me.’
‘You’re wanted, remember.’ He sighed. ‘Only you could get into so much trouble so quickly. I can’t believe the professor hasn’t noticed all the posters. I saw them everywhere when I went out to the Butterfly House!’
‘It wasn’t my fault!’ said Echo.
‘It never is. I’m going to the library.’
‘That’s it! The library.’ Echo grabbed her boots and began furiously lacing them up.
‘What are you doing?’ said Horace. ‘You know you can’t leave.’
‘I can’t bear being trapped inside,’ said Echo.
‘But what if one of the Queen’s Guard sees you? They think you’re a thief! It’s too risky, Echo. They might arrest you.’
‘They won’t if they don’t recognize me.’ She tied her laces in a double bow, in case she had to run. ‘How do they describe me on the posters?’ she asked.
Horace bit his lip. ‘Wanted. Jewel thief. Girl of between ten and fourteen years. Long, unruly dark hair. Grey eyes. Fierce demeanour . . . Hey, what are you doing?’
Echo had jumped up and grabbed a pair of scissors. She ran to the fireplace mirror and looked at herself carefully – eyes of grey flecked with gold, a wild mane of dark curls, almost down to her waist now. Did she look like her mother? Did she have her mother’s eyes? Was this her mother’s hair?
She shook herself. There was no time for this. If she didn’t get out of here and do something, she’d never find her mother at all. She took a lock of hair in one hand and opened the scissors.
‘Echo! You can’t!’ Horace gasped.
‘Watch me,’ said Echo.
She closed the blades and let the first dark lock of hair fall to the floor.
‘You don’t look like you!’ wailed Horace when she’d finished. Gilbert merely cocked his head to one side and stared at her for a while, before shaking himself and taking his usual place on her shoulder.
‘I do look like me,’ Echo said, gazing at the strange new girl in the mirror and running a hand over her shorn curls. It felt so odd. Would she ever get used to it? Or stop feeling surprised every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror? She smiled, and the strange girl smiled back. However peculiar it was, something about it just felt right.
‘This is the me that was under here all along,’ she said, finally tearing herself away from the glass.
‘Well, I think you looked nicer before.’
Echo rolled her eyes and grabbed a scarf to conceal her face. ‘You’ll get used to it. Come on, let’s go to the library. I’ll even let you lead the way.’
Although the sun was bright outside, the morning air was surprisingly cold on Echo’s ears now they weren’t hidden under a tumble of curls. A chill ran down her neck, as if someone was watching her, but when she looked round there was no one to be seen on the street. She pulled the scarf across her face and quickened her pace until they reached the large wooden doors of the library.
Inside, it was dim and hushed, the tables lit with golden gas lamps. At the central desk, a robotic librarian whirred round on its single wheel, the rhythmic thud as it stamped books echoing round the room.
‘I’m going up to the natural history section,’ said Horace. He pointed at a spiral staircase that curled upwards beyond the bookshelves on the wall to their right, then looked nervously at Echo. ‘You won’t cause any trouble, will you?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Echo crossly. ‘Go on.’
‘Shh!’ said an old man who was poring over a leather-bound book at a nearby table.
‘Sorry,’ whispered Horace. He gave Echo one last worried look, then scurried off up the stairs.
She waited until he was gone, then approached the desk and cleared her throat.
‘May I help you?’ The robotic librarian’s voice was metallic, like the chime of an out-of-tune bell. It continued stamping books as it spoke to her.
Echo opened and closed her mouth for a second. She’d never spoken to a robot before.
‘I . . . I’m looking for books on sky pirates,’ she said.
The robot stopped, its stamp poised in mid-air. An amber light on its shoulder began pulsing. ‘Sky-pirate materials are restricted access,’ it said. ‘What is your interest in this subject?’
Echo swallowed. Not again! She couldn’t get caught now; she might not be lucky enough to escape a second time. Panic rose in her stomach and she swallowed it back down.
‘Silly me, I meant . . . I mean . . . I meant to say . . .’ She scrambled for an idea. ‘Parrots. Sky . . . parrots. You know . . . parrots that fly in the sky.’
‘Parrots,’ repeated the robot. Its amber light stopped blinking. ‘Accessing memory banks. Please wait.’
Echo’s heartbeat steadied. How could she get away with asking about the Crown Jewels? ‘And also royal fashion. Dresses, you know. And . . . and accessories.’ She didn’t dare say jewels, in case it set the amber light flashing again. Echo held her breath and heard the well-oiled cogs of the robot’s innards spin.
The robot’s eyes lit up. ‘Parrots. Section 636.886. Upstairs,’ it said. ‘Royalty. Section 305.522. Across the hall.’ Its head spun round as it extended a telescopic arm to the doorway on the left-hand side of the main hall.
‘Thanks,’ called Echo over her shoulder, already rushing past the towering stacks of books to the door.
Echo heaved down a huge, leather-bound book with the title Royal Costume Through the Ages embossed in gold lettering on the spine. She set it down on the table where Gilbert was sunning himself beneath a warm gas lamp and flipped through the pages until she came to the section on the Crown Jewels. Echo pored over it, her heart quickening. A cough behind her made her jump and she turned round to find Horace standing behind her, looking sheepish.
‘Finished with the bugs already?’ asked Echo.
‘I thought you might need some help,’ said Horace. ‘I mean, it’s not like you usually spend much time reading.’
Echo scowled at him, then softened. Maybe two heads would be better than one, even if one of them did belong to Horace. He certainly knew books. ‘Thanks. Take one of those and look for the Port Tourbillon Crown Jewels. Anything about a robbery or the Black Sky Wolves.’
Horace frowned and looked at her. ‘Why are you so interested in the Black Sky Wolves? They’re criminals, aren’t they?’
Echo took a deep breath. If he was going to help, she would have to tell him everything. ‘I think they’ve got something to do with my mother,’ she said. For the first time, E
cho showed him her mother’s hairpin and told him the truth about her escape from the jeweller’s.
Horace shook his head. ‘This sounds dangerous, Echo.’
‘We’re just looking at books – how dangerous can it be?’
‘I suppose.’ He looked uncertain. ‘But it’s not much of a clue.’
‘It’s the only one I have.’
The desperation must have shown on her face because, after a moment, Horace sighed and nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll do my best.’
‘Thanks.’ Echo took a sidelong look at him as he settled down next to her and began to study a book. It did feel good to trust someone. And, besides, Horace knew more than anyone what it was like to grow up without a mother.
Echo went back to searching her book for anything about the hairpin. There was no mention of the robbery or her mother’s pin, just endless pages about the Royal Crown Collection.
Horace went to the shelves and returned with another book on royal jewellery and they both read in silence.
‘Look at this,’ he hissed.
‘What?’ said Echo, jerking her head up. Horace pointed at a drawing of a brooch in the shape of a beetle. ‘It’s a Hanson’s Nightcrawler! Wonder if there are any butterfly ones.’
Echo huffed and went back to her book. ‘We’re not looking for butterflies,’ she whispered crossly. ‘We’re looking for my mother’s pin.’
As the minutes turned to hours, Echo searched every book about royal jewellery she could get her hands on, but could find no trace of the hairpin. Gilbert had fallen asleep under the lamp, and Horace’s eyes were almost shut as he yawned and turned yet another page.
‘Those jewellers must have been mistaken,’ she muttered. ‘It’s not one of the Crown Jewels. And that means I’m at a dead end.’ She put her head in her hands. There was no way of tracing the pin now. She had come all the way to Port Tourbillon for nothing.
