by D D Everest
A lot of things were suddenly making sense and it all hit Archie like a punch in the stomach. He had another jolt of realisation.
‘But if the Flame of Pharos is extinguished that means …’
‘Yes,’ said Old Zeb, ‘that the Dark Flame is the only magical flame left in the world. We must choose between dark magic or no magic at all!’
The full force of the old man’s words suddenly hit Archie. He felt utterly grief stricken.
*
Archie left the Aisle of White with his head in a spin. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening. The Flame of Pharos that had burned for thousands of years and contained the spirits of the great magisters from the Golden Age of Magic was no more. Archie’s world was shattered.
If only he hadn’t lost the Torchstone! With the embers Old Zeb would have been able to rekindle the Flame. If only he had kept it safe. He’d let Hawke down. He’d let everyone down. He had failed magic and now there was only the Dark Flame left. And soon it would destroy all the good magic until there was only dark magic left in the world.
The only hope now was to destroy the Dark Flame as well. It would mean that there was no magic left in the world – but surely that was better than dark magic?
As he hurried across the courtyard he felt a drop of rain. A storm was coming.
He had to tell the Foxes the awful news. He pulled up his collar against the rain and trudged back to Houndstooth Road.
*
He reached the front door and let himself in. The house was quiet. He heard low voices coming from the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and made his way down the hall.
Bramble was sitting at the kitchen table with Loretta, Gardenia and Woodbine. From the looks on their faces they had been having a very serious conversation. Archie wondered what they’d been talking about but his news was too urgent to wait.
There was no easy way to break it to them.
‘The Flame of Pharos has been extinguished,’ he said.
He expected them to gasp with horror or for Loretta to burst into tears, but they didn’t react.
‘We know,’ said Loretta. ‘Wolfus told us. He came to the house to warn us that the elders are calling all the Flame-Keeping families together to defend the museum.’
Archie nodded. ‘We’d better get down there, then,’ he said. But no one moved. What was going on?
‘Archie, sit down,’ said Gardenia, gently. ‘There’s something you need to know. It’s about your sister.’
Archie felt his heart leap into his mouth. ‘Rosie? Do you know where she is?’
Loretta nodded. ‘She’s … here.’
‘What?’ cried Archie, staring from face to face. ‘Where?’
Bramble stood up. ‘Right in front of you,’ she said. She had tears in her eyes.
Archie’s mouth fell open. He stared at her, trying to take in what was happening. Could it be true?
Bramble was standing beside him, being brave like she’d always been. And suddenly he knew without any doubt that she was his sister not his cousin.
‘You are Rosie!’ he said, his eyes wide with wonder.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘though I didn’t know it until just now.’
‘I told her,’ said Loretta.
Bramble reached out for Archie and hugged him, holding him so tight he could barely breathe. ‘Welcome home, little brother,’ she whispered in his ear.
Archie felt a dam of emotions burst inside him. He clutched her close and the tears streamed down his face. For a long moment they stayed like that – brother and sister locked together in an embrace.
‘I was never very far away,’ she whispered and kissed him lightly on the brow.
Archie felt a huge weight had been lifted from him. He looked over Bramble’s shoulder and saw Gardenia and Loretta smiling lovingly at him.
Woodbine stood up. ‘Well, then, young ’uns,’ he said, trying to sound like his normal self but his voice catching with emotion.
Bramble threw her arms around him. ‘Steady, girl!’ Woodbine said, wiping a tear from his crinkly eye.
‘It’s all OK,’ she said. ‘Thank you for being my dad all these years!’
He coughed. ‘You’re very welcome.’ He offered Archie one of his knuckle-crunching handshakes, but it turned into a hug.
‘I’ve told Thistle, so he knows, too,’ said Woodbine.
At the mention of his name, Thistle’s freckly face appeared. ‘I don’t feel that I’ve lost a sister so much as gained a cousin,’ he said. ‘I always thought I was too good-looking to be your brother anyway.’
His face fell. ‘But I don’t know what to call you?’
‘My name is Bramble,’ she said. ‘And don’t you forget it. And you are still my little squirt of a brother.’
Thistle smiled.
‘Now,’ said Loretta, ‘I think we should all sit down.’
Loretta made a pot of tea and put out one of her cakes, but no one was hungry. They sat around the table talking.
Archie was still in shock. All this time he’d been trying to trace his family and his sister had been right under his nose. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.
‘Are there any more secrets in this family?’ he said. ‘Because I’m not sure I can take any more surprises!’
Loretta shook her head. ‘No, that’s everything now.’
Gardenia glanced at Loretta. ‘It’s been very hard on all of us. There wasn’t a day went by when I didn’t want to tell you that you had a sister, Archie. And it was the same for Loretta with you, Bramble. We couldn’t even see each other because we couldn’t take the risk of someone finding out.’
‘We promised your mother and father that we would follow their wishes. They were adamant that we did everything possible to keep you both safe. This was their way of protecting you.
‘When your father consulted The Book of Prophecy and discovered you had a forked fate, the two of them decided what they were going to do. It all happened so quickly that none of us had time to think it through. And then they were gone and we couldn’t change it without breaking our promises. So we lived with it and hoped that it was for the best.
‘When the book arrived on your twelfth birthday I was relieved that you could be together. Telling you that you were cousins instead of brother and sister seemed a small price to pay. You were together – and with Thistle, too. That was all that mattered. And we quickly realised that you were much stronger together than you were apart – and you looked after each other.’
‘So why are you telling us now?’ asked Bramble.
Loretta wiped her eye. ‘Alex and Amelia said that if the Flame of Pharos was ever extinguished and we were facing the end of the museum and all that it stands for, then we were to tell you the truth. We were not to let you face your destiny without knowing who you really are to each other.
‘That day has come. The final battle for the soul of magic is about to begin.’
*
It was raining when they crossed the courtyard. The Aisle of White was closed and shutters had been put across the window. The Flame Keepers had begun to gather at Quill’s.
When Archie arrived with his family, Loretta’s eyes were red but she had her best purple lipstick on and a steely look in her eyes. She was flanked by Gardenia and Woodbine, who looked equally determined.
Some apprentices were standing in the back of house. Pink was trying to calm them. When they came in, all eyes turned to Archie, Bramble and Thistle.
‘So it’s true,’ said Meredith Merrydance, ‘that the Flame of Pharos has been extinguished?’
Archie nodded once. He couldn’t bring himself to pronounce the words.
The apprentices fell silent.
‘Where are the Elders?’ demanded Bramble. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Feodora has gone,’ said Pink. ‘She left last night. Took all her books of supernatural magic with her.’
But of course they knew this – Graves had told them what she int
ended to do. ‘What about Gaunt and Brown?’ asked Archie.
‘Motley Brown took a load of magical books and left. I don’t know where he’s gone. Faustus is in the archive. He’s still trying to figure out how Grey was meant to save magic. It’s desperate now. Wolfus and Morag are selecting which books they will try to save. Rusp is with them.’
*
The next hour passed in a blur. The rain was falling harder as the light faded and darkness fell.
Archie stared out through the permission wall at the gathering storm. Rain was lashing at the windows. A flash of forked lightning lit the courtyard and was followed by a rumble of thunder. He watched as people made their way through the downpour to be at Quill’s.
The place was filling up. News that the Flame of Pharos had been extinguished had spread rapidly. Pockets of the magical community were gathering all over the country as they tried to make sense of what had happened.
The people who came to Quill’s were Flame-Keeper families – descended from the defenders of the Great Library of Alexandria. Most of them were quiet, heads bowed like mourners at a wake. But they were resolute in their defiance of the Dark Flame.
Old Zeb and Geoffrey Screech were standing together. The old bookbinder looked frail but determined. Marjorie was with them and kept blowing her nose into a handkerchief.
But the one person Archie wanted to see most was missing. Gideon Hawke was locked up in the asylum. Archie wondered what he would do if he were there.
Gaunt, Bone and Pandrama arrived together. By the grim looks on their faces Archie guessed they had finally given up on the prophecy. He wondered if it was too late now anyway.
Bramble and Thistle stood beside him.
‘So it’s come to this,’ said Woodbine, joining them.
‘What’s the plan?’ asked Bramble.
Woodbine’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’ll make our stand here at Quill’s. Old Zeb has gone to wake up the bookend beasts. If the Greaders get into the museum then the magical books will be at their mercy. They will have complete control of the magical realm.’
‘What are our chances?’ whispered Archie.
His uncle dropped his voice. ‘Without knowing what Grey was meant to do? All but zero. Now that the Flame of Pharos has been extinguished, the magic protecting the museum will start to fail. But we’ll put up one hell of a fight! When the history of magic is written it will say that we went down with our heads held high, all spells blazing!’
Archie believed him. The Flame Keepers would defend the museum to the end. To the last man, woman or child. They would try to protect the magical books from the Dark Flame and the Greaders, no matter what the cost to them.
‘See that?’ whispered Woodbine, indicating Pandrama and Gaunt, who were carrying piles of books. ‘They’re taking the most precious books to a safe house!’
Even at this dark hour they were trying to smuggle some of the magical books to safety to keep fighting if the museum fell, as it surely must. Archie felt a wave of emotion well up inside him.
He was incredibly sad but proud at the same time. He was proud to be one of these people – a Flame Keeper. Some of them were standing around in their family groups, parents and apprentices together. The Merryweathers were there, and the Drews, and most of the other old families.
Rupert’s family, the Trevallens, were there, too, but their son was not. Archie wondered if Rupert was safe. There were rumours of magical battles being fought in London.
Archie moved between the groups. The conversations were muted and people were stony-faced. The Flame Keepers were stoic but he could tell that most of them didn’t hold out much hope.
He noticed that Arabella was standing alone. Archie remembered the first time he’d ever seen her in the Aisle of White with her mother. He could tell that she wasn’t comfortable. She hadn’t wanted to be there.
Arabella had always been an outsider. Perhaps that’s why the two of them understood each other.
He tapped her on the shoulder.
‘You okay, Arabella?’ he said.
She managed the thinnest of smiles and a nod.
‘I’m the only Ripley on the side of the Flame Keepers. Right now the followers of the Dark Flame are meeting at my parents’ house. That’s where they are mustering their forces. The place was pretty full when I left. I had to sneak out of an upstairs window and climb down a drainpipe to get away. Now the Flame of Pharos is extinguished, some people can’t take the Dark Oath fast enough!’
The Ripley family had always had more than its fair share of Greaders. And they weren’t the only ones. Archie knew from Woodbine that a lot of seemingly respectable members of the magical community secretly practised dark magic.
Others were just trying to save their own skins. They knew that once the Dark Master was in power he would be ruthless in punishing anyone who did not join him.
‘Archie!’
He heard a cry behind him and turned to see Rupert striding towards him.
‘I came as soon as I heard about the Flame,’ he said. ‘It’s just too awful!’
‘What’s the news from London?’ asked Archie.
‘It’s not good,’ said Rupert. ‘The Royal Society has been taken over by followers of the Dark Master. They’ve been taking the Dark Oath inside the building. I was lucky to get out before they sealed the doors.’
‘And Gloom?’ asked Archie.
‘I don’t know,’ said Rupert. ‘He said something about protecting the dark library, but I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Rupert, thank goodness you’re okay!’ exclaimed Bramble.
‘What’s the Magical League doing?’ asked Thistle.
‘Nothing. There have been attacks on other magical buildings, too, that have left some people dead. And the Unready know there’s something going on. Their media is full of it, including radio and television reports of magical duels. The streets of London are empty. People are frightened.’
Rupert paused for breath. ‘And Gideon Hawke has left the asylum.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Archie, and his heart skipped a beat. ‘How did he escape?’
‘That’s just it,’ said Rupert, shaking his head. ‘The authorities there let him go. People are saying that he was in on the plot from the beginning.’
Archie’s heart sank. He couldn’t believe it. Not Hawke! He felt his anger rising.
‘That’s rubbish!’ he said. ‘It’s all lies! Hawke wouldn’t betray the museum.’
‘Where is Fabian Grey when we need him!’ snorted Arabella.
Grey may not be around to save magic, and who knew why Hawke had been released, but Archie Greene wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Woodbine had said they would go down fighting. And that was what Archie intended to do!
He pulled the other members of the Alchemists’ Club to one side. ‘I think there’s time for one last meeting,’ he whispered. ‘Come on.’
The five of them slipped through the door ray while Pink wasn’t looking. They crossed the wet courtyard, let themselves into the Aisle of White and made their way down to Grey’s laboratory.
*
Fifty miles away in London, Horace Catchpole stirred. He’d fallen asleep at his desk but something had just woken him. He’d been keeping a vigil at the Folly & Catchpole offices in Gutter Lane. The package for Fabian Grey was on his desk. Horace had heard about the Greader plot, but he still had a job to do.
Horace sat up and looked around him. His office was in darkness except for a thin sliver of light that entered the room through a gap beneath the blind. Sitting in the shadows he strained his hearing to pick up the slightest sound. Then he heard it again, the soft tread of footsteps on the stairs. Someone was approaching.
A floorboard creaked and Horace felt his heart beat a little faster. Glancing around the office, he thought about protecting himself from the intruder. He crossed to the small fireplace and picked up the poker. Then his eyes returned to the package on the desk.
The footsteps were getting clo
ser now. They’d reached the top of the stairs and were moving down the corridor towards him. In another moment they would be outside his door.
Horace’s eyes flicked nervously between the desk and the door. Very slowly the door handle began to turn. Horace took a breath and held it, his body taut. His mouth was dry. He had no idea what to expect. He’d known it was only a matter of time before the Greaders learned about the package and its whereabouts. When they did they would try to take it. But Horace wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.
He gazed at the door as it slowly began to open, letting in a small amount of light from the landing, just enough for him to catch a glint of white hair. A dark figure was standing in the doorway. The tension was excruciating. A shadow fell across the desk. Horace swallowed hard.
‘I suppose you’ve come for this?’ he asked, indicating the package on the desk. The figure nodded and reached out a hand.
‘Not so fast,’ said Horace. ‘You’ll need to prove you are the rightful owner.’
The stranger took something from a pocket and slid it across the desk. As he did his cloak fell open revealing his face.
‘Oh! It’s you!’ said Horace. ‘But …’
‘Perhaps it’s best not to ask too many questions,’ said the figure. ‘After all, you are famed for minding your own business, and I have the receipt.’
Horace studied the slip of paper.
‘Hmmm,’ he said after a while. ‘That seems to be in order.’
The man reached for the package a second time.
Horace put his hand on top of it. ‘I have a duty of care to the magical realm,’ he said. ‘What do you intend to do with it?’
The man regarded him with new respect. ‘I intend to use it,’ he said.
‘Use it. I see,’ said Horace, as if he didn’t quite trust his own ears. ‘I’ll have to ask you to sign the ledger. There are procedures to be followed.’
He spun the ledger around on the desk so that it faced the visitor. ‘At Folly & Catchpole we pride ourselves on not making mistakes …’