When Archie arrived at Lost Books the next day, Hawke was sitting in his office staring into space. On the desk in front of him was the green glass bottle Archie had seen before. It definitely looked like a medicine bottle. When he heard Archie come in, Hawke slipped it into the side pocket of his moleskin jacket.
‘Ah, it’s you, Archie,’ he said, turning to face the door. ‘I thought it might be Faustus. I’m expecting him any moment.’
Archie began tidying the room. It was his routine now every morning. He stacked up the books that were strewn all over the floor, being careful not to close any open ones so that he didn’t lose Hawke’s place in them. He gathered up the scrolls that were all over the armchair by the fire and put them back on the shelves. After a few minutes of picking up he could see the Persian carpet again.
Yet no matter how often he cleared up, the room was just as cluttered by the next morning. Hawke must spend every night poring over books. Archie guessed that he was searching for clues about how to defeat the Dark Flame.
‘I wondered where that had got to,’ said Hawke, as Archie picked up the imagining glass with the silvery lens from the mantelpiece and replaced it on the desk. ‘I must have put it there last night and forgotten.’
He shook his head absent-mindedly. Archie noticed he was looking a little dishevelled, as if he’d slept in his clothes. It occurred to him that he didn’t know very much about Hawke. Did he live at the museum or did he go home at night like the other elders? Perhaps he slept on the leather sofa. It certainly looked comfortable enough for a bed and Hawke was very attached to it. He was still pondering this when there was a knock at the door and Faustus Gaunt appeared in the doorway. In his hand he held a battered old notebook.
‘Ah, good morning, Faustus,’ said Hawke, rising to greet his visitor.
‘Is this a good time?’ enquired Gaunt.
‘Yes,’ said Hawke. ‘In fact your timing couldn’t be better. Archie is here now and I want him to hear what you have to say.’
Gaunt cast a look at Archie. ‘Very well, Gideon, if that is your wish.’
‘Archie is my apprentice,’ explained Hawke. ‘He must know everything that we know.’
Archie felt flattered by Hawke’s confidence in him. He hoped he could live up to it.
Gaunt took a seat at one end of the old sofa with the notebook on his lap, and Hawke indicated for Archie to sit at the other end. The head of Lost Books sat facing them in the wing-backed chair next to the fire, his fingers steepled in thought. When they were all sitting comfortably, Hawke’s keen eyes bored into Gaunt’s.
‘Well, what have you discovered, Faustus?’
Gaunt took a deep breath. ‘I have examined the text that Morag found in the archive, and I can confirm that it is genuine. It is one of John Dee’s final prophecies, written towards the end of his life.
‘As you know, Dee was the greatest scryer in England. He used his magical ability to see into the future. Like most of Dee’s prophecies, it is written as a riddle.’
Gaunt took some spectacles from his jacket pocket, unfolded them and perched them on the end of his nose. Then he opened the old book to a marked page and read out what was written there.
‘When white burns black
And shadows prey
Then hope must lie
With all that’s grey.
The raven knows
What was forgot
The secret key
To magic’s lock.’
When he finished, there was a silence. Archie tried to absorb what he’d just heard.
‘The meaning is deliberately veiled,’ said Gaunt. ‘That is Dee’s way. But I believe it foreshadows what Fabian Grey saw in The Book of Prophecy.’
Archie gave a start. Grey again! Wherever he turned, the alchemist’s name seemed to crop up. He turned Grey’s gold ring on his finger, trying to loosen it. Gaunt was still speaking.
‘We know that when Grey was an apprentice at the museum he consulted The Book of Prophecy and it changed him. Grey believed that he had a special destiny. He’d seen a vision that showed that the future of magic rested on his shoulders. He told Braxton Foxe as much.’
Archie had heard this before from Braxton Foxe’s book ghast, the spirit of his unfulfilled dream.
‘I think what Grey saw in his vision was how to defeat the Dark Flame. Dee’s riddle hints at it. “When white burns black” could be a reference to the Dark Flame burning on white spell parchment. “When shadows prey” could refer to the Pale Writers being released. And the last line of that verse is surely a direct reference to Grey himself.’
‘And the second verse?’ asked Hawke.
‘The second verse refers to the key to magic’s lock,’ said Gaunt. ‘That can only mean one thing.’
‘The Opus Magus,’ breathed Hawke.
Gaunt nodded. ‘Exactly.’
Archie’s mouth fell open. ‘But … That’s not possible,’ he gasped. ‘Is it?’
Gaunt leaned forward. His face took on a new intensity. ‘The Opus Magus disappeared two thousand years ago when the Great Library of Alexandria burned down,’ he said. ‘Its physical form was destroyed but the spell itself must have survived somehow or magic would have disappeared long ago. I think The Opus Magus is the secret that The Book of Prophecy revealed to Grey.’
Archie’s mind was racing as he tried to fit it all together.
Hawke was sitting motionless. He hadn’t moved so much as a muscle since Gaunt had started speaking. ‘And what is your conclusion from this?’ he asked.
Gaunt folded his spectacles and slipped them back into his pocket. ‘If Dee’s prophecy is right, then Grey saw two things: The Opus Magus, and a vision of how to use it to defeat the Dark Flame.’ He paused. ‘The only way.’
*
Archie left Lost Books with his head spinning. He had so many thoughts buzzing round his brain that he felt quite dizzy. He was still turning over what it all meant in his mind when he heard a rustling sound. It was coming from the bookshelf next to him.
‘Psssssst,’ said a papery voice. ‘Over here. We’ve got some information for you.’
‘What?’ said Archie, still trying to gather his wits.
‘We’ve been asking around about your father,’ said the voice. ‘I told you we like solving mysteries.’
Archie’s heart leaped and he recognised the voice now – it was the mystery book from behind the curtain at the bookshop! He scanned the bookcases until he spotted its red spine on one of the shelves. It must have been put there after it was delivered to the museum.
‘What did you find out?’ he asked, desperate for news.
The book rustled again. ‘I’ve talked to the reference books – the ones that can speak – and they all agree that if he was trapped inside a book then it must be a drawing book.’
Drawing books had the power to draw people into their pages so they became part of the story and could get trapped if the book was closed while they were still inside.
The only drawing books Archie knew of were The Book of Yore and The Book of Prophecy, but he supposed there could be others.
‘How can I find out which drawing book it is?’ he asked, his heart beating faster.
‘That’s harder,’ said the mystery book.
‘I need to know!’ said Archie. ‘I have to find out what happened to him and my mum and sister.’
‘How old is your sister?’
Archie stopped to think. ‘Rosie was nearly three year’s older than me, so she’d be almost sixteen now.’
‘Right,’ said the book. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll get back to you when I know more.’
Archie was suddenly aware of Thistle’s freckled face staring at him. ‘So you’ve started talking to yourself now!’ he said.
Archie smiled. ‘I was talking to one of the books,’ he said. ‘Anyway, what are you doing in this part of the museum?’
‘I’ve just come from the menagerie,’ said Thistle. ‘I told Rupert I’d keep an eye on the place for him so I was just checking up, and there’s something wrong. Simon the salamander has not been well at all – and now he’s disappeared!’
‘What?’ cried Archie. ‘A six-foot lizard can’t just disappear!’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Thistle, ‘but this one has. I’ve asked Quiggley and he has no idea where Simon’s gone. In fact, I’m not even sure Quiggley knew that he had a red-bellied salamander in his care. He doesn’t seem to know the first thing about magical creatures, and he certainly doesn’t know about how to look after members of the dragon family.’
‘But this is terrible. Where can Simon have gone?’ asked Archie, shocked.
‘Quite,’ said Thistle shaking his head. ‘I’ve got my curiosity compass and I thought it might help us find him.’
Bramble and Archie had given Thistle the curiosity compass for his twelfth birthday. It was a magical device that looked like a pocket watch and could detect the direction of magic. Thistle and Archie had used it to locate Grey’s secret laboratory.
Thistle flicked its cover open. Inside was a compass with the design of the sun on its face and a black needle that would change colour and spin if the curiosity compass detected magic nearby.
Archie and Thistle both regarded the needle. It was glowing with a bright golden colour and turning slowly.
‘Hmm,’ mused Thistle. ‘There’s a lot of magic in this part of the museum. That’ll be the books. I’ve worked out how to use the compass properly now,’ he added. ‘You can set it for different types of magic. I’ll set it to detect natural magic because Simon is a magical creature.’
He turned a dial on one side of the compass to a picture of a lightning bolt striking a tree.
‘There,’ he said, holding up the instrument so that they could both see.
The needle was still. ‘Oh,’ sighed Thistle. ‘Well I guess that means Simon is nowhere around here.’
‘I guess not,’ mused Archie. ‘But if he’s not here, where is he?’
At that moment the needle suddenly turned red and began spinning madly. ‘Hang on,’ cried Thistle. ‘There’s something naturally magical and it’s on the move. ‘Come on!’
Thistle held up the compass and began to walk in the direction the magical energy was coming from, glancing at the needle every few moments to make sure he was going in the right direction. Archie followed him. He felt a tingling sensation, too, indicating a strong magical presence.
‘It’s over here!’ Thistle said, striding through the Great Gallery like some intrepid explorer in a jungle.
‘This way,’ he added, ducking into an aisle of bookcases. They weaved in and out of the bookshelves. ‘Getting stronger. It’s very strong here.’
They both stopped and looked around.
‘I don’t understand it,’ said Thistle. ‘According to the compass we should be right on top of the source of the magic.’
They stared around but there was no sign of anything that might be producing natural magic.
Thistle scratched his head and shook the compass. ‘Its never been wrong before,’ he said. ‘Perhaps Simon’s behind this bookcase …’
He took a step forward and tripped over something that left him sprawling on the ground. ‘What the …’
There was a low growling sound like an engine throbbing.
‘Uh oh!’ cried Thistle scrambling to his feet. ‘I recognise that sound. Duck!’
The two boys ducked behind a bookcase just as a flame appeared in the air.
‘It’s Simon,’ cried Thistle. ‘But why can’t we see him?’
At that moment there was a fizzing sound and a smell of wet straw, and Simon the red-bellied salamander appeared in front of them, looking as startled as they were. For a moment the lizard stared at them with big sad eyes and then with a sound like a whimper, it collapsed on the ground.
Thistle leaped forward. ‘He’s sick,’ he cried. ‘He looks horribly pale.’
‘Look!’ said Archie pointing to a cut on the salamander’s leg. ‘He’s bleeding. We need to get him back to the menagerie right now.’
‘That might be easier said than done!’ said Thistle. ‘Simon’s lost weight but he still weighs a tonne.’
Thistle stayed with Simon while Archie went for help. The first person he found was Feodora Graves. When she heard what had happened she came at once.
‘How is he?’ she asked when she saw the salamander lying on the ground with Thistle stroking its head.
‘He’s alive at least,’ said Thistle, ‘but he’s very weak. He’s lost a lot of blood.’
‘I’ll use a heavy-lifting spell to get him back to the menagerie,’ said Graves. ‘When did he last flame?’
‘Just now,’ said Archie, ‘but it was pretty pathetic.’
‘Should be safe to get close then,’ said Graves.
She stroked Simon’s head, and then she put her head close to his and sniffed. ‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘He’s been given some sort of concealment potion to make him invisible. I can smell it on his breath. It must have worn off just as you found him. Just as well because we don’t want an invisible salamander on the loose.’
‘But why would anyone want to make Simon invisible and let him out of the menagerie? And hurt him?’ asked Thistle.
Graves looked thoughtful. ‘Those,’ she said, ‘are very good questions.’