Archie Greene and the Magician's Secret Read Free Page A

Archie might have thought it came from the book itself. He put his ear to the leather cover. Silence.

5
A Special Instruction
    H olding his breath, Horace Catchpole slowly unrolled the scroll, taking care not to tear it. The parchment was dry and brittle and he knew that it was very delicate. As he unwound it, his eyes were fixed on the writing that gradually came into view. Horace gave a start. It was written in the alphabet of the Magi, a language used by magicians and alchemists. There were few people left who could decipher it. Certainly the boy would not have been able to, but fortunately for Archie Greene, Horace Catchpole could: Folly & Catchpole specialised in rare languages.
    Horace was feeling better about his decision already. His language skills may have been a bit rusty, but he was determined to right his wrong and give the boy the translation. Taking out the pen and notepad he kept in his breast pocket,Horace began to translate a message that had not been seen for centuries. By the time he had finished it was very late.
    *
    Archie was just dozing off to sleep when he heard the commotion outside. It sounded as if someone had run into a dustbin in the dark at high speed – and that was because someone had. There was a howl of pain and a crash as the wheelie bin went over. Then a brief silence and a scraping sound as the bin was picked up again, followed by a loud knocking on the door.
    By the time Archie had thrown on his dressing gown and raced downstairs, Gran was already at the front door and framed in the doorway was a very out of breath Horace Catchpole.
    ‘That’s him!’ Archie cried. ‘That’s the man who delivered the package!’
    ‘Yes … yes …’ wheezed Horace, bent double to catch his breath. ‘I have to … tell you … something … I have a message …’ he panted.
    Gran looked from the man to her grandson.
    ‘I thought there was something missing,’ she said. ‘You’d better come in and explain what’s going on.’
    At that moment, the grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight.
    ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ muttered Horace. ‘I just hope it’s not too late.’
    ‘Too late for what?’ asked Gran.
    ‘When I delivered that parcel, I was supposed to give you a message that went with it. The instruction was very clear.’
    ‘This is exactly what I was worried about,’ sighed Gran. ‘Some packages have special conditions attached to them.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Horace.
    ‘And this package is one of them,’ Gran continued.
    ‘Ye-es. And, well,’ Horace said, ‘the thing is, the message with this package is written in a very old language and it took me a while to translate …’
    ‘Really … ?’ said Archie, suddenly very interested. ‘What does it say?’
    ‘It says that you have to take the contents of the package to the Aisle of White. Immediately.’
    ‘The Isle of Wight?’ Archie asked hopefully. ‘Gran and I went there on holiday once.’
    ‘Er … no, not that Isle of Wight. This Aisle of White is a bookshop in Oxford,’ Horace interjected.
    ‘Oxford!’ Gran muttered. ‘I might have known.’
    ‘Might have known what?’ Archie asked. Gran definitely knew more than she was letting on.
    Gran tutted. ‘Well, I suppose you’ll find outsooner or later. The Foxes live in Oxford – your Aunt Loretta and her brood.’
    This was news to Archie. He wasn’t aware that he had any relatives except Gran.
    ‘The Foxes?’ he said.
    Gran’s face creased. ‘Yes, Loretta and Woodbine Foxe. Sorry, I should have told you before, but it’s been difficult. Loretta is your dad’s sister.’
    Archie looked shocked. ‘So, you mean she’s …’
    ‘Yes,’ nodded Gran. ‘She’s my daughter.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘It’s a long story … but if you’re going to Oxford then you should meet them.’ She paused, and looked at Horace. ‘I suppose he will have to go to Oxford?’
    Horace nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You see it’s a Special