Horten's Incredible Illusions (17 page)

“I’m not sure whether or not to seek professional attention,” he kept saying as Stuart lay on the sofa with a cold cloth on his forehead, “or whether this is a quotidian childhood ailment which boiled fluids, sufficient time, and simple analgesia will alleviate.”

“What?” asked Stuart feebly.

“I am unable to judge whether it’s serious or not. I think maybe I should make a call to a medical authority.”

He disappeared for ten minutes, and then came back clutching the phone, which he held out to Stuart.

“Hello?” said Stuart into the receiver.

“It’s Mom here. In Singapore. I’ve told your father not to panic.”

“Good.”

“Now, he said that you got very hot, had no fluids for the entire afternoon, and then drank about a quart of water on an empty stomach. Is there anything else I should know, medically speaking?”

“I was upside-down,” admitted Stuart reluctantly.

“When were you upside-down?”

“Most of the afternoon.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “It was sort of a game.”

“Right. Well, I’m not surprised you’re feeling ill. Stay cool, take lots of sips of water, and have a good night’s sleep. Get Dad to phone me in the morning if you’re not feeling completely better.”

“Okay.”

Stuart’s mom was always very sensible and unpanicked about medical things. It was everything else that she worried about.

“Now, are you eating properly?” she asked.

“Yes. Dad’s cooking lots of healthy things.
Lots
of them.”

“And are you having a lovely time with your new friends?”

He hesitated just a fraction before saying yes, and his mom noticed immediately.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’m just missing someone,” he muttered, thinking about Charlie, wandering on short legs through a strange and magical world.

He kept thinking about the dog even after his mother had hung up—about how he’d first seen Charlie in the pyramid, and then, later on, April had heard the click of his toenails in the Arch of Mirrors. Was it possible that all the magical worlds were linked? Could you go into one world and come out of another? And in that case, were there still two chances left to find Charlie?

That night, Stuart fell asleep early and slept heavily, and when he came downstairs—feeling slightly weak and extremely hungry—it was nearly noon. His father was working in the living room, staring at a blank crossword puzzle, a spoon and fork in his hand.

“Hello, Dad,” said Stuart. “I’m better.”

His father looked up in an unfocused sort of way. “Excellent,” he said vaguely. “I’ve just realized that
cutlery
is an anagram of
try clue
, so I’m planning an entire cipher based around kitchen utensils. Excitingly, the word
tine
has five different meanings beyond that of being the projecting prong of a fork.”

“Good,” replied Stuart. He went into the kitchen and poured some cereal into a bowl, and he’d just taken his first mouthful when he realized that there was a large brown envelope in the middle of the table, with his name written on the front of it.

Inside was a copy of the
Beech Road Guardian
and a letter in April’s fantastically neat handwriting.

Dear Stuart,

I’ve got tons to talk about with you, but your dad says he’s letting you sleep in, so I thought I’d write you a letter instead. I hope you’re fully recovered, by the way.

1) I’m really, really sorry I took so long on the adventure yesterday. It was entirely my own fault for thinking of a solution too quickly—I have vowed to think more slowly and carefully in the future, and not to always assume that my first idea is the best. Though it usually is.

2) I’ve had an idea about the dog—you saw him in one place, and I saw him in another, so I wonder if he’s able to wander around between the different adventures. In which case we might be able to get him back in the next one.

3) The letter clue I got on the adventure was T, so that means we’ve got SWOT so far. I’ve checked in the dictionary, and “swot” is an old-fashioned slang term for someone who works very hard in school. The only other thing the letters spell if you mix them up is TOWS, which doesn’t seem to make much sense either.

4) It wasn’t till we got home last night that June reminded me I was supposed to be reviewing Clifford/Mysterioso the Magician’s second magic show for the paper. We all went last night and the piece I wrote is in the paper (enclosed). It wasn’t very good. (The show, I mean, not my review. Though I’ve tried to be kind.) The paper also contains a full account of the TV interview fiasco yesterday.

5) THIS IS THE MOST SERIOUS THING. Apart from the dog, obviously. And you being ill. Anyway, the most serious thing is WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL MY SISTERS because they won’t give me the spare key to the shed in our dad’s builder’s yard until I tell them what’s going on, so we don’t have much choice. But I promise I won’t say anything until you say I can.

Yours sincerely—and sorry again. I’ll come visit when you feel better.

April

Stuart unfolded the
Beech Road Guardian
and looked at the huge headline that took up the whole of the front page:

TV STAR THREATENS FUTURE OF BEETON TREASURES AFTER UNLUCKY ACCIDENT

Midlands Midday
star Rowena Allsopp (says she’s 30, but looks older) had just finished interviewing Beeton resident Stuart Horten (10, but looks younger) at the Beeton Museum about his recent discovery of a spectacular workshop, when museum curator Rod Felton (age unknown, but looks about 40) accidentally triggered a spring catch in one of the exhibits, leading to a spectacular jacket-staining incident.

Turn to page 2 for the full story by editor June Kingley, with photographs by May Kingley. Turn to page 3 for our PETITION to protect the BEETON TREASURES!

Turn to back page for other news and a review by our arts correspondent April Kingley.

Stuart turned to the back page of the newspaper. There was a small photo of Clifford standing in a brilliant spotlight and holding the ace of spades in one hand and a confused-looking guinea pig in the other.

LIGHT FANTASTIC!

A small but expectant audience at St. Cuthbert’s church hall was rewarded yesterday with a bravura display of wonderful lighting as well as some magic tricks.

ILLUMINATING!

The technical wizardry of electrician Elaine Coleridge (37) lit up a variety of illusions, including a partially disappearing guinea pig, a handkerchief that turned from green to red and then from red to green again (twice), and a trick in which a member of the audience picked out a card from the card deck, and Mysterioso the Magician (Clifford Capstone, 42) very nearly guessed which card it was.

BRILLIANT!

After the show Mysterioso the Magician described electrician Ms. Coleridge as “an inspirational genius.” “I just wish,” he said, “that my tricks were half as good as her lighting.”

Stuart suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching him, and he looked up to see April peering anxiously through the kitchen window. He got up and opened the back door.

“I didn’t want to ring the bell and disturb you,” she said, “so I climbed over the back fence. How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” he said. “I was just wondering how a guinea pig can partially disappear.”

“It was supposed to be hidden in one of Clifford’s sleeves, but it poked its head out through the cuff and started squeaking really loudly. Did you read my letter?”

Stuart nodded. “I had exactly the same idea about the dog,” he said. “We can go into the next illusion and get him back. As soon as we can.”

April grimaced. “We won’t be going anywhere unless we tell my sisters what’s going on. They’ve got the key.”

Reluctantly, Stuart nodded. “So, when do you want to do it?” he asked.

There was a tiny tap on the window, and they both looked up. Staring in at Stuart and April were May and June, their expressions identically stony.

“How about right now?” asked April.

CHAPTER 27

Stuart went outside. “Okay,” he said to April’s sisters. “Get us into your dad’s shed again, and we’ll tell you everything.”

Both girls folded their arms. “Truth first,” said one of them. “Then shed.”

Stuart folded his arms as well. “Shed first,” he said. “Then truth.”

There was silence for a moment while they all glared at each other, and then there was an exasperated sigh from April.

“For goodness’ sake,” she said, “you all look
ridiculous.
Let’s go to the café near the builder’s yard and talk about it there. We can pool our pocket money.”

“But …” Stuart glanced at May and June and turned and whispered in April’s ear, “
But what if we tell them and then they still won’t give us the keys?
“

April rolled her eyes. “They’re not a criminal gang,” she hissed. “They’re my sisters. They’re just
nosy
.”

“We’re
not
nosy,” screeched one of them. “That’s really, really insulting, isn’t it, June? I feel really, really insulted by that description.”

“As editor of Beeton’s leading local newspaper,” said June pompously, “it would be surprising if I
wasn’t
curious about unusual and interesting occurrences taking place in the area.”

April jerked her head at Stuart to indicate that she needed a word with him, and he followed her to the end of the yard.

“Look,” she said quietly, “you don’t have to
like
my sisters, you just have to
tolerate
them. That’s what I do. So shall we go?”

Stuart hesitated, and then his stomach rumbled so loudly that even April heard it.

“What you need,” she said firmly, “is a hearty breakfast.”

At the café, Stuart had the sausage-bacon-double-egg-beans-fried-bread-all-day-breakfast special, and he ate it with great concentration and in silence.

“Okay,” he said to April, mopping his plate with the remains of the bread. “I’m ready.”

“I have
never
seen anyone eat that fast,” remarked one of her sisters, looking revolted.

“Apart from one mouthful of cereal that’s the first thing I’ve eaten since yesterday’s breakfast,” said Stuart indignantly.

“Well, don’t blame me if you get indigestion.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“All right, all
right”
said April, clapping her hands as if she were a schoolteacher. “Let’s get started.”

She looked at Stuart expectantly, and he glanced over his shoulder to check that no one else in the café was listening.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “How it all started in the first place was that, right at the beginning of the summer vacation, I found eight coins and a note belonging to my great-uncle Tony saying that I should try to find his workshop. I started following clues, and then April helped me, but we discovered that they weren’t just ordinary clues, they were magic clues—not guinea pigs out of hats, or handkerchiefs changing color, but
real
magic, and—”