The Glorious Race of Magical Beasts, page 6
Eli swallowed hard and forced himself to meet her eyes. ‘I can’t leave without the book.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to. The book isn’t here. It’s out on loan.’
‘Oh.’ Eli’s face fell. ‘When is it due back?’
‘It’s overdue, actually. I shall have to chase it up.’
Eli felt his hopes rapidly draining away. ‘Could you please put it on order for me?’
The vampire gave him an appraising look. ‘Why do you want it so badly? Who are you hoping to send to sleep?’
‘My nana. She’s not very well and I heard that the book has a lullaby to heal sickness.’
Giselle shook her head. ‘If you’re a librarian then you ought to know better than to listen to rumours,’ she said. ‘To the best of my recollection, the book contains no such lullaby.’
‘Oh.’
Now Eli was thoroughly deflated. The worst part of it was that the librarian was right – he should know better than to listen to rumours.
‘I can put it on order for you, though,’ the vampire went on. ‘Although I wouldn’t expect it back any time soon.’
There wasn’t much point if it didn’t contain a healing lullaby, but Eli didn’t want to appear rude, so he just thanked Giselle as politely as he could and tried not to look too glum.
‘Let me fetch you a ticket.’ She walked over to a nearby desk, took a piece of card from one of the drawers, scribbled something on it and then walked back to hand it to Eli. ‘If you keep this in your bag then the book will appear as soon as it’s available. Now, you must go or I really shall bite you.’
Eli thanked her and slipped the ticket into his bag.
‘How did you get here anyway? Harmonia is on the other side of the planet. Don’t tell me you spent three weeks travelling around the world just for the Book of Lullabies?’
‘Oh, no, I’m …’
Eli trailed off, staring at her.
Travelling around the world …
A bright, shining bubble of an idea had suddenly formed in his mind. It was delicate and fragile, and Eli worried it might pop if he prodded it too hard, so he said nothing out loud. Instead, he wished the other librarian a hasty goodnight and then used the key to his little free library to unlock the nearest door. When he pushed it open, the corridor beyond had vanished, and he looked into the telephone booth that made up his little free library in Harmonia.
He stepped through, closing the door behind him. It was disorientating to find himself swept away from the Night Library’s chilly halls, but Eli’s heart beat fast as hope bloomed in his chest once more. There was one more thing he could try. Perhaps everything was not quite lost, after all.
Chapter Eight
Eli realised there was no point going to bed when he was never going to be able to sleep. He went back downstairs, left a note for Nana saying he’d gone to the library, then scooped Humphrey up and put him in his tortoise bag. He thought of using a magic key to travel straight there, but decided the walk might help to clear his head.
He took a balloon down to the square and soon arrived at the Royal Library. It was his day off, so he left the bat droppings to the janitor and made his way to the one part of the building that he never voluntarily entered – the Chamber of Glorious Races. It held written accounts of every single race that had been run since the event began, over a hundred years ago. There were books for each year, detailing the names and skills of each human racer, along with stats about their magical beast. There were atlases containing maps of the various routes that had been taken. Travel guides for the destinations passed through. Record books for the fastest entrant, and the slowest; the largest magical beast and the smallest; the shortest race and the longest.
Dotted around the chamber were marble statues of various beasts that had triumphed in the past – ice hares and star gazelles, hurricane ostriches and ghost stingrays. Upon the wall hung paintings of famous racers – including Eli’s own parents. Theo and Lara Fleet smiled down from their portrait, flanked by their sparkling gazelles.
‘Are we in the Chamber of Glorious Races?’ Humphrey asked, peering out through the vent of his bag. ‘What are we doing here? You hate this room.’
‘Hang on,’ Eli said. ‘I’ll explain in a minute.’
He grabbed a stack of books and went to sit at a table directly beneath his parents’ portrait. It took a while to find the right volume, but eventually the rules were there in black and white before him:
Rules for the Glorious Race of Magical Beasts
Each entrant must sign up with a living magical beast.
Entrants must travel with their beast at all times.
Entrants must wear their racing medallion at all times.
Entrants must collect a map from each checkpoint.
Eli looked at the rules for a moment before turning to another one of the books in the pile. It contained a complete list of all the bottles of magic that had been awarded to first place. The bottles sometimes varied a little in size – and people said the race would end one day because they wouldn’t be able to find any more magic to offer as a prize. The magic wouldn’t be enough to help Nana on its own, but it would be valuable enough for him to sell, and to buy a magic ruby with the proceeds. In the same book, Eli found a list of all the magical beasts that had ever raced. There wasn’t a single moon tortoise named there. Yet a moon tortoise certainly was a magical beast because of its moonlight shell, and ability to sniff up words, and speak to mages.
Eli felt like there were cogs turning and shifting inside his head as he worked it all through. There was nothing in the rules to stop him from entering the race with Humphrey, nothing at all. He would be allowed to enter. All he had to do after that was work out how to win.
He looked up at his parents’ portrait, excitement and fear battling for first place inside him. Entering any kind of race – let alone this race – was really the last thing Eli wanted to do. He wanted a safe, quiet, comfortable life. He didn’t want danger, or adventure, or glory. And it was ludicrous, anyway. Preposterous to even think of entering a race with a tortoise – one of the slowest known creatures in the world. People would laugh at him, probably, but then Eli had been laughed at before for being too bookish, or too tidy, or too uptight. People would always find something. Eli knew that he would quickly be assigned the role of joke contestant, the one no one expected to cross the finish line, let alone win.
But Eli was, after all, a mage. That meant he had a trick or two up his sleeve. He didn’t believe anyone could possibly want to win the race more than he did, and that counted for something. Plus, Eli’s love of books and time in the library meant that he had a much vaster general knowledge than most people. He knew a lot of things about a lot of things, and that would help him too.
Eli was scared of the race, of course. His parents had died participating in it. For many years, the Glorious Race of Magical Beasts had been the ogre of his family, the shadow that could darken the happiest of moments. And Humphrey was an old tortoise, who deserved a safe, peaceful life. But even worse than all that, the thing that really made Eli hesitate was that he had made a promise to Nana that he would never enter the race. And now he would have to break that promise. It was a thought that made him shudder, but some things were even more important than keeping promises.
‘Humphrey,’ he said – quietly, so as not to disturb the hush of the library. ‘Do you remember what I told you last night about Nana? That she’s ill?’
It was always best to check because – with the exception of his birthday – you could never be completely sure what Humphrey would or would not remember. But this time the tortoise said, ‘Yes, of course I do! There’s nothing wrong with my memory, you know. Tortoises have excellent memories.’
‘Well, I have an idea – a way to save Nana. You know which room we’re in, so I’m guessing you already know what it is. But I’ll only enter if you agree to it too. I won’t take you without your permission.’
Humphrey knew how Eli felt about the race and so it was a subject they normally avoided. Eli realised now that he had absolutely no idea how his tortoise would feel about being asked to participate. But to his relief, Humphrey said, ‘Oh! I would love to follow in the footsteps of my favourite adventurers and poets! Only … will we be back in time for my party, do you think?’
Eli grinned. ‘We should be. The race is usually finished in a couple of weeks. Thanks, Humphrey. You’re the best tortoise a boy could ask for.’
He tried not to think about how furious Nana would be. Furious and upset. He hated the thought of her worrying at home alone, but what choice did he have? She would forbid him to go, but she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Eli was generally very obedient, but this time he had to be true to himself. He had to try. Even if it was hard, even if Nana didn’t want him to and everyone laughed at him. None of that mattered.
His mind made up, Eli felt a new peace settle over his shoulders as he gathered up the books and returned them to their rightful places on the shelves. He gave a final glance to his parents’ portrait, wondering what they would make of his decision. Maybe they wouldn’t approve, given that they’d both lost their lives to the race? And yet, they had both loved the race the way Eli loved the library. He thought they would have been pleased for him and excited, maybe even a little bit proud.
He left the library, which was just starting to fill with visitors, and made his way to Paradise Pier. This was a very different place from the docks. There was no Night Market, no shipwrecks, no beaches full of bones. Instead there were Ferris wheels, and stalls selling candyfloss, and pleasure boats that took people out on to the water for dinner, and drinks, and fireworks.
Registration booths had taken over a large part of the space, and the crowds milling about the pier all lingered to peer curiously at the racers lining up to enter. It was only the second day that registration had been open, so there were long lines full of the usual racer types. Eli saw lots of athletic builds and impressive beasts. Some people were his age, although many were teenagers or adults. The race appealed more to younger people in general, probably because of how physically taxing it was, although Eli saw one grey-haired man in the queue next to him, with what looked like a lightning parrot on his shoulder. He very much hoped he wouldn’t see Vincent Tweak among the crowds. He could hear people around him gossiping about the rumour that a princess was entering the race this year, but there was always wild speculation about the contestants.
Eli had to queue for some time, and the straps of his tortoise bag were digging into his shoulders and making him sweat by the time he reached the front of the line. Finally, it was his turn, but before he could even open his mouth, the man behind the desk said, ‘Ah, you must be the clerk. Here’s the paperwork for the entrants. We expected you an hour ago, by the way. You’ve got quite a stack to carry now.’ He eyed Eli’s skinny frame dubiously. ‘Do you think you can manage it?’
‘I’ve carried piles of hardbacks much heavier than that,’ Eli replied. ‘But I’m not a clerk actually, I’m a librarian.’
‘Oh.’ The man looked confused. ‘Well, what do you want?’
‘I’ve come to join the race.’
The man squinted at him. ‘Is this some kind of dare?’
Eli frowned. ‘Why would you think it was a dare?’
‘Well, I’ve never had anyone sign up for the race wearing a suit before,’ the man replied. ‘Is that tweed?’
‘Certainly,’ Eli replied, automatically straightening his already straight cuffs. The movement caused his cufflinks – which were shaped like dictionaries – to flash in the sun. ‘It makes for the best kind of suit.’
The man stared. ‘If you say so. All right, mode of travel?’
‘Library.’
This time the man set down his pen. ‘Now, look, boy. I have a lot of entrants to get through and I don’t have time for practical jokers. Get out of here.’
‘But I am travelling by library,’ Eli said, in a firmer voice.
‘It’s not possible to travel by library.’
‘This fellow is very rude, Eli,’ Humphrey said. ‘Why don’t we just go home?’
Eli took a deep breath. This was it – his last opportunity to turn back, to pretend it had all been a joke. If Eli revealed his secret, then it would disrupt his life in ways he couldn’t even imagine. People would want to see what he could do, everyone would want a piece of magic for themselves, he might find himself tangled up with kings and generals, helping them to win wars and defeat enemies and such. But it was the only option he had and Eli wasn’t about to turn back.
‘It’s possible if you’re a mage,’ he said.
The man laughed. ‘You’re not a mage.’
Eli lifted his chin. ‘I am.’
‘You must think I was born yesterday,’ the man sneered. ‘Mages don’t look like you. And everyone knows there are none left in the world any more anyway.’
‘I’m the last one.’
‘Prove it.’
Eli reached into his pocket and dropped his large bunch of keys on the clerk’s desk. ‘These are my Keys of Knowledge,’ he said. ‘I intend to race with a moon tortoise. I also have some magical candles. One smells like an old bookshop, and another smells like a rainy day reading nook, and another—’
‘I don’t know what scented candles have got to do with anything,’ the man interrupted.
Eli heard a smattering of chuckles and realised that a few passers-by had paused to watch, probably drawn by the fact that there was an argument going on.
‘And these keys could be something you picked up in a junk shop.’
‘A junk shop?’ Eli was aghast.
‘Let me speak with him,’ Humphrey said. ‘Tortoises are very persuasive.’
‘He won’t be able to hear you, remember?’ Eli groaned.
‘I can hear you perfectly,’ the man replied.
‘For goodness’ sake!’ a voice behind him exclaimed. ‘What does it matter where his keys came from or how many scented candles he’s got? He’s got as much right to enter as the rest of us. Just sign him up.’
Eli looked over his shoulder at the girl behind him. She was about his age, with a long curtain of shiny black hair hanging loose down her back and a gold circlet on her head. She had dark eyes and brown skin and wore a pair of glasses with bright red frames. An arrow quiver hung from her belt and a large bow was slung across her back. A sparkling white ice hare hopped around by her booted feet. Eli was surprised to see the creature and wondered how the girl was planning to race with it. Ice hares had once been quite common competitors since they were the perfect animal for a faery to ride, but rather like the great witches and wizards, it seemed that faeries were dying out and were now quite rare.
Eli wondered whether the girl had bought the hare from a faery, though, since it was fitted with a saddle, bridle and reins. The girl was dressed for riding, with a sleeveless white top tucked into a belted pair of white high-waisted breeches. Her black riding boots reached to her knees and gold flashed at her buttons and belt buckle. She looked every inch a professional rider, yet her ice hare was clearly far too small. Eli briefly considered pointing this out, but then realised that a boy racing with a tortoise was probably not best placed to be offering advice. Besides which, the girl had her arms crossed over her chest and was tapping one foot impatiently, with an annoyed expression on her face.
‘No one signs up without a magical beast,’ the man said, sticking out his chin stubbornly.
The girl looked at Eli. ‘Have you got the tortoise with you or haven’t you?’
‘I have,’ Eli replied. ‘He’s in my tortoise bag. He’s—’
‘Well, get him out, then!’ the girl said. ‘You should have done that to begin with, instead of going on about your candle collection.’
‘It’s not a collection,’ Eli said. ‘I’ve got a stamp collection, with more than two hundred stamps, but I’ve only got four candles, so it’s not a collection.’
‘There’s no minimum number in the dictionary definition of collection,’ the girl replied. ‘Four is plenty.’
Eli’s eyes widened in delight. He’d never heard another racer refer to the dictionary before, ever. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d ever heard another child his age mention the dictionary either. He briefly wondered whether he should show the girl his dictionary cufflinks, but then thought better of it.
‘That’s … very true,’ he stammered. ‘There’s no minimum number for a collection, but there does need to be an intent to collect and some attempt at curation. You’d need to display, or organise, or label, or catalogue, or some such. Otherwise it’s not a collection, but only an accumulation—’
‘That’s it!’ the man exclaimed, thumping his fist on the table and making Eli jump. He pointed a finger at Eli and said, ‘You’re out! Back of the queue as a punishment for wasting time. If you have a moon tortoise – which I’m starting to doubt – then have him in your hands when you get to the desk next time. Otherwise you’re disqualified.’
‘You don’t have the power to disqualify—’ Eli began.
‘Maybe not, but I have the power to send people to the back of the line for getting on my nerves,’ the man snapped.
Eli sighed and turned away. The line was even longer now than when he’d joined. It would take at least an hour to queue up again, but it seemed there was nothing for it.
He glanced at the girl as he passed by. ‘Thank you for trying to help me.’
‘I wasn’t trying to help you,’ she replied. ‘I was trying to hurry you up and get you out of the way.’
‘Oh.’ Eli tried not to feel too crestfallen. Of course a girl like that wouldn’t waste time helping a boy like him. She was so self-assured and capable, whereas Eli was shy and awkward, as always.
‘Nice cufflinks, though,’ she added, flashing a brief, warm smile that lit up her whole face and made Eli feel a foot taller.
