Daniel skidded between two parked cars, leapt onto the sidewalk. He ran and ran and ran, not looking back, imagining cold hands wrapping around his neck. Warm light poured from the shop window just a street away, and he thought he saw someone standing at the door, someone very tall…
Daniel’s feet hit a frozen puddle. He landed hard on the ice, his knee taking the brunt of the impact. He looked up into a skeletal face, skin hanging loose, eyes glowing amber. The man chasing him was suddenly in front of him.
“Where’s the unicorn blood?” said the old man. The voice was a rasping whisper.
“What? I don’t have it! I swear!”
A hand crashed across Daniel’s face. He tasted his own blood.
“I’m not messing around, kid. Tell me where the unicorn blood is—”
The man stopped mid-thought, gazed up at something. For half a heartbeat he was still, like a startled deer. Then his burning eyes grew wide and he turned and began to run. Something else brushed past Daniel, a blur of grey that was gone in an instant.
He gathered himself. He could feel hot blood seeping from his knee. The short walk across the street to the Emporium seemed to take forever.
***
“So who saved you?” said Ellie, back in the warmth of the shop. She was dabbing Daniel’s knee with whisky from Silver’s desk. It burned and stung.
“I don’t know,” he said through gritted teeth. “For a second I thought it was Mr Silver.”
“I’d have seen him if it was,” she said. She placed the whisky back on the desk. “There. Done. So you really think Papa is ill?”
“It makes sense,” said Daniel, rolling his trouser leg back down. “The way he’s been acting, how old he looks all of a sudden. He can’t have bought the unicorn blood for anything else, can he? The shopkeeper said the stuff’s famous for curing diseases.”
Ellie took a long breath. “Why hasn’t he told me?”
“He probably doesn’t want you to worry.”
“Daniel … what if the cure didn’t work? What if we can’t find Papa because he’s gone somewhere far off in the shop to … to die? The plan he tried to leave us … it might have been instructions for what to do after he’s gone.”
The bell at the door sang out, and a deep voice said, “Hello? Anybody here?”
“We didn’t lock the door!” said Ellie. She wandered around towards the front door, where a tall, broad-shouldered man stood, silver hair and moustache glinting in the firelight. He wore an expensive-looking charcoal suit and carried a silver-handled cane. Electric blue eyes darted around the room, but he did not see Ellie; she was as much a ghost to him as to any other outsider who came into the Emporium.
The tall man spotted Daniel at the back of the shop, and moved towards him, passing straight through Ellie like she was made of nothing but light and shadow. He stopped in front of Daniel, staring down at him.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Daniel asked.
“Not something,” said the man. “Someone. I’m here to see Lucien Silver.”
Ellie held up her hands, indicating she didn’t know the stranger. “Nobody’s ever come looking for Papa before.”
“He’s, um … Mr Silver isn’t available.”
The tall man reached into his coat and produced a grey leather wallet. From the wallet he took a piece of paper and unfolded it. He handed the paper to Daniel. It was a clipping from a newspaper, some sort of review about a magic show. The date on the paper was 1884. There was a picture of two men. One of them was the man who stood before Daniel now, and he had not aged at all since the photograph was taken. The other man staring out from the picture was a teenage Mr Silver. There was no doubting it. Beneath the photograph, a caption read:
The incredible magic act of Vindictus Sharpe (right) and Lucien Silver is the talk of the theatrical scene.
Ellie scanned the clipping over Daniel’s shoulder. “He knows Papa,” she said.
“As you’ve probably gathered from the photograph, my name is Vindictus Sharpe,” said the tall man. “I was – and remain – a friend of Lucien’s.” He took back the photograph and indicated the young Mr Silver. “In fact, I was his teacher.”
“Somebody taught Mr Silver?” said Daniel.
Sharpe nodded. “I will come straight to the point. I am worried about Lucien. I attended his charming Halloween ball, and I was shocked to see how weak he has become. And now tonight, when I return to check on him, I find a child running the shop – the very same child I have just rescued from a mugger on the sidewalk.”
“That was you?” said Daniel.
Sharpe waved the question away. “If you wish to repay me, tell me what is going on around here. Where is Lucien Silver?”
Daniel glanced to Ellie.
“I don’t like him,” she said. She sniffed the air around Sharpe. “He smells funny. And if he’s such great chums with Papa, how come I’ve never heard of him?”
Ellie had been brought up by Mr Silver to protect the Emporium, to trust no one from the outside world. Daniel knew this. But these were desperate times. Silver was missing, and the Emporium was beginning to decay. Vindictus Sharpe had saved Daniel’s life, and he seemed genuinely worried about Mr Silver. Surely Daniel owed him a chance?
“We don’t know where Mr Silver is,” he said. “He’s missing – but we think he’s somewhere in the Emporium. And we think he’s ill. He bought unicorn blood. That’s why I was mugged. The mugger heard me asking the shopkeeper about the blood and fancied some for himself, I guess.”
Sharpe sat on the edge of a table piled high with golden coins. “This is most worrying,” he said. “Why are you so sure Lucien is still inside the shop? Is there anything you’re not telling me?”
Daniel was torn. His hand moved to the pocket of his jacket, to the Book of Wonders.
“Don’t do it,” said Ellie.
But it was too late. Sharpe’s eyes were already on Daniel’s hand.
“What have you got there?”
Daniel could do nothing but bring out the book. “Mr Silver doesn’t leave the shop without this,” he said. “Not ever. We … I mean, I found it.”
When he saw the cracked black cover, Sharpe made a tiny movement with his hand, as if he were about to reach out. His eyes did not leave the book as he said, “This is worse than I thought. I know Lucien, and I know all about that book. If he has left it behind, then he must be in real trouble.”
Daniel watched Sharpe, who was watching the book. He slipped the book back into his pocket.
Sharpe flashed a smile. “You have written in the book. I can tell by the way you hold it.”
Daniel looked to Ellie, who was staring back at him, her mouth open.
“Is it true?” she said. “Has Papa let you write in it?”
Daniel hung his head. He knew he’d technically done nothing wrong by writing in the book, but somehow he felt guilty for being able to do what Ellie couldn’t, as if he was stealing a piece of her papa away from her.
“Yes,” he said, both to Ellie and Sharpe.
Ellie nodded, but there was a faraway look in her eyes, and Daniel wished he’d been honest with her from the start.
Sharpe stood up, scattering a pile of golden coins across the table. “Then you understand what is at stake if Lucien is not found? It will be the end of all of this.” He motioned around the room, and then pointed to the curtain with his cane. “The end of all that lies beyond.”
Daniel had not wanted to think about this, although part of him knew the answer. The Emporium, and the people within its walls, couldn’t survive without Mr Silver.
“Will you help?” he heard himself asking, though his voice seemed to come from somewhere far off. Panic was clouding his thoughts. He didn’t wish to be ripped from a life of magic and friendship, from a place that felt like home.
Sharpe nodded. “Certainly I will. I hate to see an old friend in trouble. Lucien would do the same for me.” He clapped his hands together and strode to the red velve
t curtain. “I shall begin immediately. Rest up, Daniel Holmes – and join me whenever you wish.”
And with that he was gone.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Ellie. “Once you invite someone in, it can be very hard to get rid of them. I told you: Papa has never let anyone see behind the scenes before. Except you. There’s a reason for that.”
“He saved my life!” said Daniel. “And he’s worried about Mr Silver.”
“He’s weird!” said Ellie. “I don’t want anything to do with him.” She pointed a finger in Daniel’s face. “Sharpe’s your responsibility. I’m going to help Caleb with the search for Papa.”
“I’ll come too,” said Daniel.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Ellie. “You’ll be far too busy keeping an eye on your new pal, won’t you? A very close eye.”
There was already a nagging doubt in Daniel’s mind. Had he done the right thing, inviting a stranger into the shop? Surely someone who risked their own life to save his couldn’t be bad?
“Ellie,” he said, “about me writing in the book. I was going to tell you. I swear I was. I just—”
But Ellie was already gone.
CHAPTER 21
FEAR
Daniel had been walking with Sharpe for over an hour. They were searching one of the Wonders – an Egyptian pyramid filled with golden corridors – from top to bottom, because Sharpe thought Silver’s magical trace was stronger there.
“You carry that book around like it’s a great weight,” Sharpe said, tapping the Book of Wonders with his cane through Daniel’s jacket.
“Well, it sort of is,” said Daniel. “All that power.”
“Power is a good thing,” said Sharpe.
“Aye, and dangerous too,” said Daniel. “When I first came here, Mr Silver trusted me to write in the book. I was actually quite good at it. And then one day I wrote something without asking him. I thought I knew what I was doing when really I didn’t have a clue, and I nearly did some serious damage. Now Mr Silver wants me to wait until I’m ready for the responsibility.”
Sharpe shook his head.
“Making mistakes is how we learn,” he said. “I’ll bet you are more ready than you think.”
Sharpe spun left and stopped, sniffing at the air. He narrowed his eyes and touched a hieroglyph on the wall, causing part of the wall to open up, revealing a secret room. In the centre of the room sat a stone sarcophagus.
The dry air caught in Daniel’s throat.
“You don’t think … He’s not in there, is he?”
Sharpe said nothing. He approached the tomb, which was shaped roughly like a man. He gripped the lid with his big hands, and pushed. Stone grated upon stone as the lid began to move, until there was a gap large enough to look through.
Daniel leaned over, praying Silver was not inside.
A fluttering explosion sent him tumbling back. A dark cloud of screeching bats erupted from the sarcophagus. They were in his hair, on his face, crawling on his skin. Sharpe grabbed Daniel and dragged him out into the main passage, slamming his hand on the hieroglyph. The doorway closed, locking the bats in their tomb.
“Definitely not in there,” said Sharpe.
They left the pyramid, and began walking the Emporium passageways. The cracks in the walls were becoming more pronounced, and fissures had appeared on some of the floors.
“Tell me, Daniel Holmes,” said Sharpe after a while. “What are you scared of?”
The question came from nowhere, and it caught Daniel off guard. He thought for a moment, and then said, “Um, I … I don’t know.”
Sharpe grinned. The stairs were getting steeper. Daniel struggled to keep pace. “You are frightened of something. I can smell it in the air around you. There is no shame in it, Daniel. But I will tell you this: whatever it is, whatever frightens you, it must be overcome. To be a truly great magician, you must be fearless. Lucien is the perfect example of a missed opportunity. I know him better than anyone. I’ve seen how his fears have bound him like chains, and I wonder what he might have achieved had he not spent his life running away.”
“Running from what?” said Daniel.
Sharpe waved a hand in the air as though he was swatting away a fly. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he has wasted his life wrapped in this cocoon of sparkling black brick, cut off from the world rather than changing it. If you let your fears take root, boy, they’ll grow and multiply. Fear is weakness.”
“I don’t think he’s wasted his life.”
“You are too young to know better,” Sharpe said, turning the tail of the sentence into a laugh.
“Haven’t you ever been scared?” said Daniel, and as the question left his lips, rain began to spit in the passageway. Sharpe stared down at him as they walked, and the droplets of rain began to bend around them, leaving them dry.
He did not answer the question.
They walked on in silence, and the subject of fear floated around in Daniel’s mind, bubbling to the surface again and again until at last he felt he had to let it out.
“When I was a little boy, too little to properly remember, my dad died at sea. He was a fisherman. His boat went down in a storm with him inside it. Nobody could help him. He must’ve watched the water rise until there was nothing for him to do but breathe it in. Can you imagine what that must have been like?”
Sharpe did not look round. “That is not a pleasant way to die – if such a thing exists.”
“I dream about it every night … I see him dying over and over. And I’m scared that it will happen to me.”
Sharpe showed a spark of interest. “You are scared of drowning?”
“No. Not drowning. It’s just that … well, I can’t imagine how frightened he must have been, knowing the end was coming, knowing he only had a few breaths left. And in the end, in his final seconds, when he should have been with the people he loved, he had nobody. He died in the dark with nobody’s hand to hold. I don’t want to be alone—”
The world began to shake. A rumble from deep within the Emporium filled the air, and the corridor groaned. Daniel leaned on the walls until the movement had subsided.
And then all was still once more, save for the juddering and quaking of a nearby door, and a distant rumble from beyond. Sharpe stepped forward and threw open the door. Whatever Wonder had lain beyond was now impossible to tell. All that remained was a room filled with wreckage, with twisted metal and darkness and a spreading silence.
“What’s happening?” asked Daniel.
Sharpe closed the door. He rubbed the stubble of his chin. “There is so much raw magic in this place … so much untamed imagination. It all requires an anchor, something – or someone – to keep it under control. Lucien is that anchor.” At this, Sharpe touched the walls, shook his head. “But it seems he no longer has the strength.”
“Mr Silver isn’t controlling it any more?”
“Either he has already lost his grip, or it is slipping quickly away,” said Sharpe. “The Emporium is beginning to rip at the seams. Some areas will be affected more than others to begin with, like diseased organs in a body. This is obviously one of them.”
“How long can it last without him?” There was desperation in Daniel’s voice. He hadn’t been part of the Emporium for very long, but he felt as if it had been a part of him forever. Like it had been waiting for him, calling to him his entire life.
“I don’t know,” said Sharpe. “Hard to tell with this much energy swilling around. Maybe days, maybe weeks, or months. However long, it won’t be pleasant.”
“Days?” said Daniel.
Sharpe gave a shrug. “As I say, I can’t be sure.” A pause. The corners of his mouth creased. “I wonder. Is it possible?”
“What?” said Daniel. “Is what possible?”
Sharpe waved a hand. “Oh, just thinking aloud,” he said. “I’m wondering … what would happen if we tried to use Lucien’s book to find him?”
Daniel’s hand
touched the cover through his jacket.
“Mr Silver told me not to,” he said. “And after what happened last time—”
“You’re forgetting the circumstances, boy,” said Sharpe. He sounded different, hungry somehow. “I’m sure Lucien will understand. It’s an emergency after all. And you aren’t alone, are you? You have me to help. This might be our best chance of finding Lucien. Your best chance to save your friends. All you have to do is create a door that’ll lead us straight to Lucien.”
Daniel brought out the book and stared at the battered cover. His fingers drummed on the leather. Was Sharpe right? Was it different this time? Maybe he could justify breaking Mr Silver’s rules in a desperate situation like this.
At last, he said, “You’re right. It’s the best chance we’ve got. I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER 22
HANDS IN THE DARKNESS
“I really hope this wasn’t a mistake.”
Daniel stood so close to the new doorway that his nose almost touched the cold black surface. His heart banged in his chest. If Sharpe’s plan was a success, then Mr Silver might be just the other side of the door.
“Something wrong?” Sharpe stood a few metres behind, hands grasping his cane tight. He sounded impatient.
“I’m just wondering what we’re going to find,” said Daniel, recalling the last time he broke the rules. “Even if it has worked, what if we walk through to find him hurt … or worse?”
Sharpe stepped forward and reached out an arm. For a moment, Daniel thought he was going to place a hand on his shoulder, to tell him not to worry and that Silver would surely be fine. But the hand passed him by, and instead gripped the handle of the door. The click of the latch sounded like a gunshot in the hush. The door crept open.
Daniel did not have time to scream.
Hundreds of emaciated, wrinkled hands crowded the doorway, reaching and grabbing at him, pulling him forward by the neck and the hair and ears, by the clothes. He could see no faces, no bodies, as he fought them. There were only shrunken, withered fingers. They surrounded him now; he was almost through the doorway, enveloped, suffocating. Fingers covered his mouth and nose. Perhaps he would die here. He closed his eyes, kicked and scratched and bit. A bony hand grabbed his head, twisted him around, pulled him further into the tangled mass.
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