The Chosen Ones

  Pop, pop, pop, went the mages in the room.

  Soon Maximilian, Franz and the princess were the only ones left. Then, after another flurry of notes, the princess disappeared.

  ‘You have to pick the moment that moves you most,’ said Franz. ‘And then you will be literally moved. For example . . .’

  A dreamy look came over his face. The pianist started down the steps that Maximilian remembered from before. It was a truly beautiful passage of music and . . .

  Suddenly Maximilian was alone. Franz had gone. Maximilian had no idea where he’d gone to, but he knew he had to go there as well.

  ‘You’d better get a move on,’ said the pianist. ‘And then I can play myself out before the army arrives.’

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ said Maximilian.

  ‘Feel the music,’ said the pianist. ‘Let it enter you, and then you will find you can enter it.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘You must hurry.’

  Maximilian screwed up his face and tried his hardest to feel the music. But it wasn’t easy. He realised he was frightened, and his fear made it impossible to concentrate.

  ‘Try to relax,’ said the pianist. ‘Let the music be the only thing apart from you in the whole world.’

  The pianist then closed his eyes and seemed to throw himself into the music with renewed gusto. Maximilian knew that if he didn’t hurry the pianist would go too and he would be left here with the approaching army and no hope of escape. Would they kill him immediately or torture him first? But this was no way to relax. This was—

  ‘That’s exactly how I felt!’ said Raven.

  ‘What? When?’ said Effie.

  ‘Just after I’d epiphanised properly. With the spiders. When I had to learn to talk to them.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course . . .’

  ‘Ahem,’ said Maximilian. ‘If you don’t mind . . .’

  ‘Sorry. Go on. What happened? Did you do it?’

  ‘What do you think? Of course I did it, or I wouldn’t be here now.’

  ‘It’s actually very dangerous being a Last Reader,’ said Effie. ‘So many things can go wrong. You can end up stuck in a book for ever, and—’

  ‘Anyway . . .’ said Maximilian.

  He described again how afraid he was of the approaching army. Would he be shot or bayonetted? Would he bleed a lot? Perhaps they’d leave him alone to bleed to death for days and days and . . .

  ‘Stop it!’ said Raven. ‘You’re only doing that because I interrupted you.’

  ‘Well, don’t do it, then.’

  ‘All right, but please, no more blood.’

  Back in the story, Maximilian tried to put all the horrible images out of his mind as he listened to the music coming from the piano.

  The pianist had reached the stepping stones again. Maximilian took a deep breath, relaxed and sort of mentally stepped onto one of them, and downdowndown they went and also, bizarrely, upupup. And then . . .

  Ping. One C minor chord to signal the start of the hurtling waves and the great storm and then . . .

  And then Maximilian, having abandoned himself completely to the music, was thrown out of the world he was in and through the hidden realm and – BANG – the music came tumbling over and over him in a great torrent and he was falling, falling, falling until . . .

  ‘I found myself on the moors,’ he said. ‘Back in this world, in complete silence, holding this.’ He pulled the slim silver business card from his pocket. On it there was simply one word, printed in turquoise foil. Pathétique. There was no further explanation.

  ‘The end,’ said Maximilian.

  That hadn’t been the end, though, not quite. There was the bit that he hadn’t told his friends. As he was falling, Maximilian had sensed a sort of fork in an invisible road – if you can fall down a road. In the distance he could see Franz and Anna and the other mages also falling, like a strange dark snowstorm, towards a place he realised he recognised. It was the entrance to the Underworld, the place Maximilian had been trying to get back to ever since his previous experience of (almost) being a Last Reader. There was the little cottage, and the river, and . . .

  He couldn’t get there. Not this time. He couldn’t change to that fork in the road. The book was ejecting him, his part in it complete. But he sensed that if only he could find the piece of music again and listen to it in this world, then perhaps he would be able to jump again, and find himself back on the path to the place he most wanted to visit. A place where – as Maximilian had once been told by the arch-villain Leonard Levar – only dark mages can go.

  Maximilian was still a bit worried about what it meant to be a ‘dark’ mage. Did that mean he was evil? He hoped not. He didn’t feel evil. And he had just saved someone’s life, after all, even though it was only in a story. But he’d never told his friends about what Leonard Levar had said just in case they never trusted him again afterwards.

  The girls were looking at the business card.

  ‘What does it mean?’ said Raven.

  ‘It’s definitely a boon,’ said Effie. ‘I got one when I finished my Last Reader experience, along with a lot of M-currency and all the skills I learned on my adventure. It must do something amazing. I wonder what.’ She turned it over once in her fingers and then gave it to Raven to look at.

  ‘What does your boon do?’ said Raven to Effie, reaching for the card.

  ‘Lets me go to visit the Otherworld whenever I want without using a portal,’ said Effie. ‘And go directly to the place where my cousins are. It’s impossible to get to otherwise.’ As she said this she felt a horrible pang. Why had she been so stupid? Effie couldn’t believe that she’d actually lost the card, her most precious possession. But she couldn’t let her friends see how upset she was.

  ‘I wonder what this one does,’ said Raven, stroking the silver card once before giving it back to Maximilian.

  ‘Have you tried the spectacles on it?’ said Effie to Maximilian. The Spectacles of Knowledge usually knew about everything.

  ‘I think they’re still in Griffin’s Library in my school bag,’ said Maximilian. ‘I won’t be able to get them back before tomorrow. That is, unless they went into the book with me.’ He frowned. ‘But in that case wouldn’t they have come out? Can you lose things inside a book? It wouldn’t make any sense.’

  Effie would normally have a response to this. She was the expert in being a Last Reader, after all. But she’d suddenly gone very quiet and closed her eyes. It was almost as if she was meditating.

  ‘Effie?’ said Maximilian.

  She held up a hand to indicate that she was thinking. Raven and Maximilian looked at each other and shrugged. They waited. And waited.

  Then, after several more moments, Effie opened her eyes.

  ‘I know what she’s up to,’ Effie said. ‘I completely understand.’

  ‘What? Who?’ said Raven.

  ‘Skylurian Midzhar,’ said Effie. ‘I know exactly what she’s planning.’

  14

  ‘Did someone mention my name?’ came a mellifluous voice, as it entered the room slightly ahead of its owner.

  ‘Skylurian!’ said Raven. ‘Um . . . Hello.’

  Skylurian’s taste in nightdresses was even more extravagant than Raven’s. The one she was wearing now was made of real silk, had a ruffled collar that went all the way up her neck, and came with a matching dressing gown bordered with real fur and feathers. The whole ensemble was bright red. Except for the fur and feathers, which were black. On her feet she wore black slippers made from some curiously familiar substance that reminded Raven of something.

  Oh yes. It had been in that exhibition Mrs Beathag Hide had taken them to at the Writers’ Museum. A tiny pair of black shoes made partly from hair. Raven had learned that one of the Brontë sisters had mended her shoes with the hair of her dead sisters, which she’d found quite poetic, but also a little bit disgusting. Skylurian’s slippers looked almost exactly like those Brontë shoes, except the toes were pointe
d and they had kitten heels, and the hair – if that’s what it was – looked a bit fresher.

  ‘What naughty children you are,’ she said. ‘I expect you’re up so late working on your homework, so I will forgive you. Haven’t you got an author visit tomorrow? I believe you are going to be talking about travelling to other worlds. I do hope you’ve done a good job, darlings. I know how much dear Terrence is looking forward to reading your little offerings. He mentioned that he might even use the best one as the basis for his new book, and give the winning child some of his royalties. Anyway, lights off, darlings.’

  She swept out of the room.

  ‘You’d better tell us in the morning,’ Raven whispered to Effie.

  ‘And we’ll have to do this stupid homework on the bus,’ said Maximilian.

  There was a horrible slurping sound coming from Octavia’s flat that Lexy hoped was all to do with eating pudding and nothing to do with – perish the thought – kissing.

  She knew she shouldn’t still be there. In fact, she was considering leaving. She still hadn’t done her homework for Mrs Beathag Hide, for one thing. And she had to finish her rosehip syrup, and also start making a medicine bundle to keep Effie safe. At this rate she was going to be up all night.

  And her eavesdropping hadn’t even been particularly interesting. Dr Green had complimented Octavia on her cooking, and her choice of wine, and her dress. He had somehow spent a large portion of the evening telling her about a football match he’d listened to on the radio, and another long period talking about all the best car parks in the city. Octavia had asked Dr Green what his favourite colour was, and whether he preferred cats or dogs.

  But then, after the slurping, they started talking about Effie.

  ‘I was very intrigued,’ said Dr Green, ‘by the story of the Truelove girl you told at the Guild meeting. I wonder whether you might tell it to me again?’

  Octavia started telling Dr Green all about the day Effie had come into the shop, having just learned her grandfather had died. She had asked all about magic and epiphanisation and the meaning of all the objects she had inherited and . . .

  ‘You tell the story so well,’ interrupted Dr Green. ‘One might almost think you were a bard. And remind me, what were these items?’

  ‘Well, the ring, of course, like I said before, and a crystal, and some kind of wonde, I think. She also mentioned a set of Spectacles of Knowledge, and a warrior’s sword of some sort, but she’d already given these away to her friends.’

  ‘And what happened to the crystal and the wonde?’

  ‘The wonde went to a young witch from Effie’s school,’ said Octavia. ‘And the crystal, well, she gave that to our Lexy – Alexa. I think you know her from your class? Very keen, she is. Very bright. Going to be a wonderful little healer.’

  Lexy began to glow. There is, after all, almost nothing more pleasurable than overhearing oneself being praised. Was this at last the part of the evening when they would talk about Lexy, and her great promise, and her hard work and diligence? Perhaps Dr Green would offer to teach her special advanced classes, maybe even take her on as an Apprentice. Lexy began to fantasise about Dr Green revealing himself to be a true healer, just like Lexy. She imagined long nights with their heads bent together over dried twigs and herbal tea blends, forgetting the time, forgetting—

  ‘And this Truelove child,’ said Dr Green. ‘Did she seem troublesome to you?’

  ‘What, Effie? Oh no. Ever so kind, she is. I hear she turned out to be a true hero—’

  ‘But that would make her boon the Ring of the True Hero?’

  ‘I suppose so. Yes. She has taken to wearing it. So I suppose—’

  ‘Does she have any idea how rare it is?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Octavia.

  ‘And she wears it all the time, you say?’

  ‘Well, yes. Oh, except for competitive sports. She believes it gives her an unfair advantage. She was talking to our Lexy about it just the other day. But why are you so interested in the ring?’

  ‘I’m not really very interested at all,’ said Dr Green, huffily. ‘Not in the slightest. Wherever did you get that idea? I enjoyed hearing your story, that’s all. It’s always heart-warming when a child epiphanises. I simply wanted all the details.’ There was the sound of a chair scraping. ‘Well, anyway. I must get on.’

  ‘But,’ said Octavia hastily, ‘wouldn’t you like a cup of coffee? I’ve got some after-dinner mints. And we could play that record again, the one you liked so much . . .’

  Suddenly, the voices were right by the door. Lexy scrambled down the stairs as quickly as she could. She only just made it back into the bun shop before the door opened and Dr Green came down the stairs.

  ‘So, now will you tell us?’ said Raven.

  It was not quite eight-thirty in the morning and very cold, dark and mostly quiet in the basement of the school. The only sounds came from the heating system, which kept making pathetic gurgling noises and occasionally managed a great metallic heave. It was all to no avail. The big enamel radiator was still freezing.

  Effie, Maximilian, Wolf, Lexy and Raven were shivering together under the same large, woollen, slightly scratchy blanket that someone had helpfully left in Griffin’s Library. It was impossible to tell how long it had been there. Like everything else in the school it was likely decades old, possibly centuries. Still, the children were grateful for it. There had been a greyout overnight which had taken out the whole school heating system.

  ‘Yes,’ said Effie. ‘But surely you can all guess?’

  She, Raven and Maximilian had been filling in Lexy and Wolf on what had happened the previous day, including finding Maximilian on the moor, and his whole Last Reader adventure. This had taken quite a long time. Then Effie had said again that she knew exactly what Skylurian was up to.

  ‘Just tell us,’ said Wolf.

  ‘Please!’ said Raven.

  ‘All right. Well, what do we know about last editions of books?’

  ‘If you read one, you become its Last Reader and actually go into the book and live it,’ said Raven.

  ‘And come out with boons and stuff,’ said Wolf.

  ‘And lots of M-currency,’ said Maximilian. He paused and frowned. ‘Oh. Aha. I see now.’

  ‘See what?’ said Lexy, yawning. She’d only got about an hour’s sleep in the end, and had been forced to do her homework by candlelight because the greyout had started pretty much the minute she’d opened her rough-work book.

  Raven hadn’t slept well either. During the day she’d almost managed to forget about the prophecy that said her beloved friend Effie was due to die on Friday. But she’d woken up several times in the night from the most horrible nightmares.

  ‘Skylurian Midzhar is busy right now turning The Chosen Ones into a last edition,’ said Effie. ‘She’s destroying every other copy of the book in the entire world – except for this “limited-edition single volume” she’s creating for Albion Freake, who must be another Diberi – a Book Eater. Presumably, Albion Freake plans to become the Last Reader of The Chosen Ones – by consuming and then destroying the last copy of the book. Someone told me that the more people have read and loved a book, the more power it stores up. There can’t be many more powerful books than The Chosen Ones. If Albion Freake reads the last edition of it, he’ll become so powerful he’ll be able to do almost anything.’

  ‘What’s Skylurian going to get out of it?’ asked Wolf.

  ‘A billion pounds, for a start,’ said Raven.

  Effie frowned. ‘It’s a good question. There must be something else. She’s already rich.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. There’s something I’m not seeing, but I’m not sure what it could be.’

  After Effie’s experience in the Edgelands Market she had made a vow to herself never to take anything else at face value. There was more to this – more to everything – than met the eye. She just had to make sure she always worked out what it was. But she was not going to be duped or
fooled ever again. Something about holding the caduceus the day before had made her feel this strongly. She was more determined than ever to know the true meaning of things. She also yearned to see – and hold – the magical staff one more time in order to understand properly why it made her feel this way. She had no idea how she would do this.

  ‘I’m going to find out all I can about Albion Freake,’ said Maximilian. ‘See what he might be planning to do with all that power.’ This, Maximilian thought, would almost certainly need to involve a trip to the Underworld, a place where he sensed all the best secret knowledge was kept. All he had to do was work out how to get there. He probably just needed a pianist, and . . . Maximilian looked at the bookshelves, full of Griffin Truelove’s old hardback last editions, and realised he was troubled by something. But he pushed it to the back of his mind for now.

  ‘I’ll start working on battle plans for how to stop him,’ said Wolf. ‘The best thing would be to stop this limited-edition single volume being created at all. But I’ll create a back-up plan in case we can’t.’

  ‘Great,’ said Effie. ‘And I’m going to the Otherworld to see what my cousins know, and if Cosmo has any advice. I’ll go straight after school. I still think the Sterran Guandré has something to do with this, but I’m not sure what. Apparently it peaks on Friday.’

  When Effie said the word ‘Friday’, Raven and Wolf exchanged a worried look. Lexy would have looked concerned too, had she not been almost asleep. Wolf nudged her awake.

  ‘What?’ she said, drowsily. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘You were just saying what you’re going to do to help stop Albion Freake,’ said Maximilian.

  ‘Oh yes. I’ll make some medicine bundles,’ she said, and then fell asleep again. She knew vaguely she had something to tell Effie, but she felt a bit too tired to remember just now. It was so warm and comfortable under this blanket and . . . She could tell Effie later whatever it was. She was sure it had seemed important last night.

  ‘And Raven?’ said Effie.

  But Raven also had her eyes closed. She seemed to be listening very hard to something.