The Nowhere Emporium (12 page)

Daniel woke with a start. Several of the clocks on the walls displayed the date as well as the time, and they told him that he’d slept through an entire day. It was strange how tiredness had crept over him just as he’d given the book to Sharpe…

Daniel’s hand touched the empty pocket. He thought of the book. Usually, when he wished to find anything in the Emporium – an object or a place – he would simply hold a picture of it in his mind and he would know in an instant where it could be located. But now, when he pictured the
Book of Wonders,
he could see nothing. There was a blind spot in his vision, like static interference, and it was not being caused by the weakening Emporium. The only explanation was that Sharpe was blocking him, purposely keeping him at arm’s length. And why would he do that? What did he have to hide?

Sharpe had made everything seem so hopeless, made Daniel think handing over the
Book of Wonders
was the only option left. But now his head was clear, Daniel was starting to realise the enormity of his mistake.

In half a beat he was through the curtain, and right away it was obvious that something had changed. Looking at the decaying great hall of stairways was like visiting some ancient ruin, or the site of a disaster. The stairs were worn and broken. Many of the
flickering torches had died, casting the corridors in cold shadow and gloom. The air was tinged with the taste of smoke, and thick dust, and of something sour and metallic. In the day Daniel had been asleep, the Emporium’s disease had progressed rapidly.

A terrible thought knocked the wind from him: the Nowhere Hotel! Would it still be standing? Were his friends OK?

Sprinting through the dark, Daniel found his path blocked time and again by the debris of collapsed corridors. A Wonder called the Shipwreck had burst open, flooding several passages with waist-deep water, full of colourful fish.

The door to the Nowhere Hotel was, like many of the other Wonders, cracked and warped. As soon as Daniel saw it he knew something bad had happened inside. The revolving door deposited him in the lobby, which had been so vibrant and grand the last time he visited. Now it was silent. Lights flickered on and off, and columns of black marble were crumbling. There were fissures in the floor and places where the ceiling had collapsed.

“Hello?” said Daniel, flinching at the sound of his own voice. There was no answer. He did not want to go any further. He was scared, both of the lonely gloom and of what might have happened to his friends. But his friends were exactly the reason he had to go on. Ellie lived in this place and it was impossible for her to escape. What if she was trapped somewhere? What if she was hurt? But where? Which room was hers? Where should he begin his search?

“Caleb’s room!” he said to himself. “What number was it? What number, what number, what number … 108! It was 108!”

He ran to the elevator, punched the button. Nothing happened. “Of course it isn’t working,” said Daniel to the Emporium. “Why make things easy for me?” He kicked the wall, and a chunk of black marble broke off and thudded to his feet.

The stairs were narrow and steep, all bare concrete and
flickering strip lights, and as Daniel climbed floor after floor the Nowhere Hotel creaked and groaned around him. He knew it could all fall apart at any moment, knew that this Wonder could disappear from existence as easily as any of the others. But he pushed through the fear.

When he reached the tenth floor his legs and lungs were burning.

Keep going. Keep going.

Through the door, he took a slow step forward, and another, and then he froze. A metre or two in front of him, where there should have been floor and walls, should have been the door to Caleb’s room, should have been something, anything … there was nothing.

The walls came to a jagged stop, like some monster had bitten the corridor in half. The floor stopped suddenly, a lip of ragged black carpet; and beyond, opening up in every direction, was a darkness that went on forever. Daniel stared into the black, saw no wreckage, no light, no sign that anything at all had ever existed. He imagined stepping off the edge, falling into that nothingness, tumbling forever, losing all memory of who he was or how long he’d been there, until he became part of the nothing too, part of the fabric of the darkness. Lost.

Was Caleb lost? Anja? Had the nothing swallowed Ellie?

He tore one foot from the floor and stepped back. A deep rumble filled the place, like the breath of a sleeping giant. A small section of floor and wall broke off and spun away into the nothing as the world lurched violently forwards, throwing Daniel onto the carpet. He landed with a thud, knocking the wind from his body, and rolled and skidded and bumped out of control towards an unimaginable fall. He threw out a desperate hand. His fingers found the ragged edge of the black carpet, and he clung on and managed to stop himself going all the way over. His lower body was now hanging
out over the edge of the abyss. His grip tightened desperately on the carpet, but the weight of him was beginning to fray the material and he watched in helpless horror as the carpet ripped slowly, slowly, and finally snapped. He fell back with a sickening jerk—

A hand, huge and warm, wrapped around his wrist, hoisted him high. He was slung over a wide shoulder, and he watched, blinking the sweat from his eyes, as the remainder of the floor began breaking and crumbling like dry cake.

I’m dead,
he thought.

The person who was carrying him leapt back, just as the floor collapsed completely, and for a moment Daniel felt like he was back in the Leap of Faith, soaring through the sky. Then they landed, and rolled, and tumbled, and Daniel was flung against something hard and cold.

“Are you all right?”

Daniel rubbed his head and face. There was a smear of fresh blood on his hand. Standing over him, looking down with a concerned expression, was Caleb. They were back in the stairwell, but the nothing was spreading. The door to the tenth floor was being swallowed up, and the walls of the stairwell were already beginning to crack.

Daniel threw his arms around Caleb. “You saved my life!” he said. “Where is everyone? Is Ellie all right?”

“Let’s talk on the move,” said Caleb. “The further we are from the edge, the better.”

Daniel noticed Caleb flinch as they descended the stairs. He seemed to be favouring one of his arms, holding it tight to his body. There was something else – something missing.

“Where’s Mr Bobo?” Daniel had never seen Caleb without his ragged, no-eyed teddy bear.

Caleb’s lip trembled. “He didn’t make it,” he said in a low, sad voice. “You saw. My room is gone. Bobo was inside when it …
when it was swallowed by the dark.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. When he lowered the hanky, a drop of ink trickled from his nostril. He wiped his nose with his hand, and stared at the black smear on his skin.

“I suppose I should have expected it eventually,” he said with a sad sigh. “We’re all just characters in Silver’s book, and we’ll fade to nothing without him … just like the Emporium. Half of us were wiped out when the hotel began to crumble. Most of the survivors are dying of illness. It seems I can now count myself in that category.”

“Anja?” said Daniel. “Did she make it?”

“She survived,” said Caleb. “She is still recovering from her injuries.” He smiled, and placed a massive hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I heard you saved her. Everyone knows, Daniel Holmes, and we thank you. We are in your debt forever.”

“The way things are going there won’t be time for tomorrow, never mind forever,” said Daniel. “Where are the rest of the staff?”

“Silver made a hospital wing years ago,” said Caleb. “In case anything ever happened to his customers. It has never been used until now. Thankfully it’s still in one piece. For the moment at least.” He let out a wheeze, wiped inky blood from the corner of his mouth. He waved away Daniel’s concerned look. “There’s nothing can be done for the ill. We can only make them as comfortable as possible.”

“And Ellie?” asked Daniel. “Have you seen her?”

Caleb shook his head.

“Her search party was due to be the last back. They haven’t returned yet.”

“She’s still out there?” Daniel leaned against the wall and put his face in his hands.

Caleb sighed. “She’s tough,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll make it back.” He paused to wipe his nose again, and then went on.
“There is something I think you should know. Ellie doesn’t have a condition; there’s no magical disease that stops her from leaving the shop. It’s Mr Silver who’s keeping her here.”

“What? You mean she’s his prisoner?”

“He loves her very much,” said Caleb. “But he says Ellie must stay for her own protection. He will not tell her exactly what she needs protecting from. Ellie thinks he is being selfish. She believes Mr Silver keeps her in the shop because he doesn’t want to be alone. So, you can see why she’s so desperate. Not only is her father missing, but he is the only one who can release her from this place. She is trapped in a crumbling tomb.”

They reached the lobby, the fire-eater and the boy, and stood face to face at the exit.

“You are not carrying the
Book of Wonders
,” said Caleb, indicating Daniel’s empty inside pocket. “I can sense when it is close by. It’s the first time I’ve seen you without it since Silver disappeared.” He began to cough wildly, and leaned on the wall, wiping more inky blood from his face.

“I have to go,” said Daniel, worry swelling in his chest. He didn’t dare confess that he’d given the book away. “Try to look after the others, and yourself. And if you see Ellie please tell her I’m so sorry and I need her help. I’ll see you soon.”

He turned away, wondering if he’d ever see the fire-breather again, and began to walk the lonely corridors in search of Vindictus Sharpe and the
Book of Wonders.

Lucien Silver’s Emporium was the talk of Edinburgh, and far beyond. There were days when the shop was so busy that he barely remembered a face, the stream of customers becoming a blur of smiles and compliments.

But on the first anniversary of the Emporium’s opening, Lucien was introduced to a face he would never forget.

He had placed an advertisement in each of the city newspapers, announcing that entry to the Emporium would be free. On the day itself, Silver sat at his desk near the red velvet curtain, nodding to passing customers. Many of them commented that it seemed impossible that so many wondrous rooms could exist in a stick-thin little shop.

Near the end of the day, someone approached the desk. At first, Lucien did not look up from his book, but then he heard a familiar voice, deep and firm and cold.

“Hello, Lucien.”

Vindictus Sharpe had not aged a day since their last encounter in the rainy Edinburgh graveyard. This did not shock Lucien. In his travels before he settled back in Edinburgh, he had discovered layers of magic that were hidden to all but a select few, magic
that could unlock the mysteries of life and time and the universe. He was more certain now than ever that he knew the secret to Vindictus Sharpe’s long life. Sharpe was stealing the future from innocent people; stealing time and adding it to his own life.

Lucien stood. He had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time; to be able to rub his success in Sharpe’s face, to show him how wrong he’d been. He had actually stayed awake at night imagining exactly what he’d say if they ever crossed paths again.

This was the chance.

Something shifted behind Sharpe. He moved aside, and Lucien’s eyes met those of a second person.

All thoughts of Sharpe were lost.

The young woman was perhaps a year or two younger than Lucien. Her skin was fair and freckled, and her hair fell in tumbling red curls over her shoulders.

“This is Michelle, my daughter,” said Sharpe.

Michelle held out a porcelain hand, and Lucien kissed it. As his lips touched her skin, the air in the room seemed to shiver and crackle.

Lucien pulled at his necktie. “Pleasure to meet you. I … I don’t recall your father ever mentioning a daughter.”

Sharpe sat on the edge of the desk and began examining one of Lucien’s fountain pens. “There were a great many things I did not mention. Michelle has been in boarding school most of her life. I travel the world, and that is no way for a young girl to grow up.”

Lucien nodded. He felt his gaze drawn back to Michelle.

“Well, what can I do for you?” he asked. “What brings you to Edinburgh?”

“Business,” said Sharpe. “I am booked to perform in Edinburgh for one month. Word of your work has reached me from the
magic committee.” At this he glanced around the shop. “I could not resist stopping by for a peek.”

Lucien smiled. “Then a peek you shall have. Miss Sharpe, would you care for a tour of my Emporium?”

Michelle Sharpe’s blue eyes met Lucien Silver’s thunder-grey ones. She smiled a shy smile. “I’d like that very much, Mr Silver,” she said.

And so Lucien led the way, taking great delight in Michelle’s amazement, using every opportunity to remind Sharpe how the idea for the Emporium was born in the very same notes he had dismissed as nonsense.

Two hours later, when the tour was complete, Lucien watched Sharpe and his daughter stride down the narrow street.

He was sure of two things.

Number one: he had surpassed Sharpe in every possible way. More importantly, Sharpe was aware of this fact, and it would eat away at his insides like an infestation of maggots. This thought made Lucien very happy.

Number two: Michelle Sharpe was nothing like her father. She was enchanting and warm, and Lucien knew that he must, no matter what it took, see her again.

His wish was granted the next day.

Michelle returned to the Emporium, and this time she was not with her father.

“I had to see it all again,” she confessed. “It is remarkable, and impossible. I couldn’t stop thinking of you or your Emporium when I left.”

They walked the shop’s ever-growing number of corridors, Michelle laughing in delight when rain began to fall in one of the passageways. Lucien produced a black umbrella seemingly from nowhere and held it over her head.

The day passed in a haze of shy laughter.

As she left, Michelle gave him a lopsided smile. “I don’t think my father likes you very much.”

Lucien breathed in her words. “The feeling is mutual,” he said.

“You’re not scared of him the way everyone else is, are you?” Michelle said.

“No. Being frightened of him is only giving him what he wants.”

Michelle beamed at him. Then she did something he had not been expecting. She leaned in, pressing her lips gently against his mouth.

When the kiss was over, Lucien stumbled back a step, ran flustered hands through his tangled hair. “What … er … what was that for?”

But she only smiled and turned away, through the door to the cool Edinburgh sunshine. Lucien watched her, his face pressed against the glass of the shop window, until she turned the corner and was gone.

Lucien and Michelle spent every day of the following month together, hidden away from the world. Each night, he would create a new Wonder to bewitch her. The sound of her laughter was intoxicating, and the touch of her lips a drug to which he soon became addicted.

Beat by beat, Michelle Sharpe was stealing Lucien Silver’s heart.

If only he had known what was next on her list.