The five members of the Alchemists’ Club were standing in Grey’s laboratory.
‘We pledge to restore magic to its former glory,’ they all repeated, but their words sounded hollow.
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Arabella, desperation in her voice. ‘The Greaders will attack the museum any time now. They are just waiting for the signal. With the Dark Flame on their side, the Flame Keepers won’t be able to resist them.’
‘We have to destroy the Dark Flame,’ said Archie. ‘It’s the only way to prevent a dark age of magic.’
‘But even if we could, that would mean the end of magic,’ said Rupert.
‘And we pledged to restore magic to its former glory,’ said Arabella.
‘I know,’ said Archie, ‘but better no magic than that sort of magic!’
They heard footsteps on the stairs.
‘Shhhh,’ hissed Bramble, putting her finger to her lips. ‘Someone’s coming.’ They crossed to the door and peered along the corridor.
The passageway appeared to be empty, but just then a hooded figure suddenly appeared from nowhere.
‘Where did he come from?’ whispered Rupert.
‘An invisibility potion made from snuffling blood,’ whispered Archie.
Rupert bristled with anger. ‘He’ll wish he could disappear when I get my hands on him!’
The figure pulled back his cloak and they recognised Peter Quiggley.
‘The snake,’ hissed Bramble.
Quiggley glanced up and down the passage to check the coast was clear. They stepped back into the shadows in time to avoid being seen by him.
Quiggley started down the passageway but stopped at the first door. ‘Where’s he going now?’ whispered Thistle.
‘He’s using the Enchanted Entrance,’ said Archie. ‘He must be going to another magical building.’
Quiggley glanced over his shoulder again, then he fitted a key into the door and opened it. He stepped through, closing it behind him.
‘He’s left the key in the door,’ said Archie. ‘Come on!’
He raced along the passageway and grabbed the door handle.
‘Door of mystery, door of grace,
Take me to my chosen place.’
He recited, using the spell that Old Zeb had taught him. The door opened and the five children stepped through it.
They didn’t see Old Zeb standing in the shadows but he watched them go. Then he opened the blue door to the bookend beasts’ frozen lair.
‘Come on, my beauties,’ he called, ‘awaken now – there’s work to be done.’
*
On the other side of the enchanted entrance, the five members of the Alchemists’ Club found themselves in a long corridor.
‘We’re inside my parents’ house,’ whispered Arabella. ‘This leads to the great hall. That’s where the Greaders are gathering.’
Ahead of them they could see an open door. Archie took a step towards it.
‘Wait!’ whispered Arabella. ‘Put these on.’ She indicated some cloaks hanging on pegs. ‘My parents use them for their Greader meetings.’
They slipped them on and pulled up the hoods to cover their faces and hurried along the corridor. As they stepped through the doorway, a flash of lightning illuminated a large room with a tall leaded window from the floor to the ceiling. Archie recognised it from his dream. It was where The Book of Night had been opened and he had witnessed the first Dark Oath ceremony. The last time he’d seen it he’d been watching through the window with the eyes of a raven.
The lightning was followed by a whip crack of thunder. Rain lashed against the tall window. Another flash of lightning lit the room. Archie was aware of cloaked figures all around him.
He pulled his hood closer and ducked in among the crowd, hoping they hadn’t been seen. The others followed him.
‘There’s my parents,’ whispered Arabella, covering her mouth with her hand. Archie spotted Veronica Ripley and her husband, Mortimer, watching the proceedings from a small balcony like a minstrels’ gallery, smug smiles on their faces. They were gazing at the front of the room where a raised platform like a stage had been erected in front of the leaded window.
On a black plinth in the centre of the stage The Book of Night was open with a black flame burning in its pages.
Another flash of lightning lit the stage and Archie could see a group of shrouded figures standing around the flame. He counted five of them in all. One was very tall, two others were of medium height and the other two were shorter.
The tall figure raised its arms and spoke in a loud voice. ‘My dark brothers and sisters, welcome to Ripley Mansion, the ancestral home of the Ripleys and the headquarters of our movement for many years. We are so glad that you could join us. Tonight we are celebrating the start of a new age of magic!
‘We’re expecting someone special and we will be meeting them very soon. First, let us all pledge our loyalty to the Dark Flame. Repeat the Dark Oath with me.’
Archie gazed around him at the swelling ranks of dark followers. More and more were joining all the time so that the room was full of them now. Archie had a horrible feeling that some of them were familiar. He was sure he recognised the stooped figure of Aurelius Rusp standing in front of him.
The crowd began chanting.
‘Darkest of the two
We pledge ourselves to you
By the power of the Flame
We blacken magic’s name!’
As the chanting grew louder the black flame burning in The Book of Night rose higher and burned more fiercely. Every new follower made the Flame more powerful. Archie was shocked to see how much bigger it had become since he’d seen it in his dream.
The chanting ceased and the room fell silent except for the driving rain against the tall windowpanes.
There was another eye-stabbing flash of lightning and rumble of thunder. Archie stared at the window where he could see a strangely shaped dark cloud was forming in the sky. He wondered what it was, but his attention was diverted back to the stage as the tall figure at the front pulled back his hood. Archie saw the sallow features of Uther Morgred.
No wonder the Magical League had been so useless at stopping Greader activity!
Morgred turned to the other cloaked figures beside him. ‘Welcome, my dark brothers. You bring word from the Museum of Magical Miscellany?’
The two shorter figures stepped forward. The first pulled back his hood. Archie heard a sharp intake of breath beside him.
‘It’s Motley Brown,’ hissed Bramble. ‘He’s the traitor.’
Brown was speaking. ‘The Flame of Pharos is extinguished!’ he said. ‘We all serve the Dark Flame now.’
The second figure removed his hood. Peter Quiggley’s round face looked out at them. Archie felt the bile rise in his stomach. Quiggley was in this up to his neck.
‘The Word Smithy is cold,’ he boasted. ‘The Flame of Pharos is no more. I destroyed it with dragon’s blood and the quenching spell. Long Live the Dark Flame!’
There was a murmur among the crowd, and then other voices joined in with the chant. ‘Long Live the Dark Flame! Long Live the Dark Flame!’
People all around him were chanting now and Archie felt sick. And it was about to get worse.
The Dark Flame flared. A face appeared among the flames, its features ravaged by fire. Two cold grey eyes stared out. Archie would have recognised those eyes anywhere. Arthur Ripley stepped out of the fire.
Arabella gasped as she recognised her grandfather. ‘He’s the Dark Master,’ she whispered.
Uther Morgred held up his hands for silence. He turned to the figure beside the Flame. ‘We are your servants, master,’ he said, bowing his head.
Arthur Ripley’s cold eyes gazed around the room. ‘So good of you all to come,’ he said. ‘I knew that you’d come around to my way of thinking eventually.
‘I recognise some new faces among you.’ He looked at Rusp. ‘Aurelius, so you finally realised the foolishness of following Hawke.’
‘Some of you took longer than others, eh, Motley? If you had been a bit bolder, then we would have got here a lot quicker!’
Motley Brown stared at the ground. ‘I had to be cautious,’ he said. ‘It would have done our cause no good if I’d been discovered.’
‘You are a coward, Motley, and you always were. You kept your head down until you were sure of our success and only then did you act.’
‘But I extinguished the Flame of Pharos!’ cried Brown.
‘No, I extinguished the Flame!’ said Quiggley.
‘So you used the boy to do your dirty work,’ sneered Ripley.
‘I taught the boy the quenching spell,’ snarled Brown. ‘And made the ungrateful wretch practise using rat’s blood to snuff out candles until he could do it – and I got him dragon’s blood when the salamander blood proved too weak. Without me he could not have put out the Flame.’
But Ripley ignored his protests. ‘It is done and that is all that matters. The Flame of Pharos is extinguished. Only the Dark Flame remains. We stand at the threshold of a new era – a dark age of magic. We have waited a long time for this moment.
‘And now it is within our grasp,’ he said. ‘And we have someone special joining us.’ He turned towards the last two hooded figures. ‘Show yourselves.’
The first figure pulled back her hood. Katerina Krone’s dull eyes stared out.
Ripley’s thin lips twitched into a smile.
‘Welcome, Katerina. I trust my good friend Rumold treated you kindly at the asylum?’
Katerina bowed. ‘Yes, master. He sends his apologies. He would have been here in person but he has things to attend to at the asylum.’
‘Very well. He has served us well so I will permit his absence on this occasion. And now it is time to present our very special guest.’
He paused. ‘My dark brothers and sisters, we have long sought the greatest prize in magic. I speak of The Opus Magus of course, the Great Work. Most of my life has been spent searching for it. All those years and it was closer than I realised. Finally, we can welcome the one person who knows its secret – Fabian Grey.’
The last hooded figure was pushed forward. In his hand he clutched the package from Folly & Catchpole. He looked to be in a daze as Uther Morgred pulled back his hood. Archie froze in horror at the face that was revealed. It was Gideon Hawke.