Read Online Archie Greene and the Magician's Secret by D D Everest - Free Book Online Page A

resumed eating her cake and didn’t think any more of it.
    Archie crossed the courtyard to the Aisle of White. He pushed on the door and the bell clanged behind him. Marjorie Gudge was asleep at the shop counter.
    ‘Mrs Gudge?’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’ He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.
    ‘Wossat?’ she snorted. ‘Geoffrey, is that you? Where’ve you been all this time?’
    ‘No, it isn’t Mr Screech,’ said Archie. ‘It’s me, Archie Greene. I brought a book here yesterday. Remember?’
    Marjorie sat up and rubbed her eyes. ‘Archie Greene?’ she said. ‘Oh yes, you’re the new apprentice, aren’t you? Better get you down to the workshop.’
    Archie looked around curiously at the bookshelves. ‘Are all these books magic?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh no,’ said Marjorie. ‘The magic ones aren’t for sale. They go on the bookcase behind the curtain until they are ready to go down to the workshop.’
    She bustled through the curtain and Archie followed.
    ‘So what happens to them?’ he asked.
    Marjorie smiled. ‘There’s a procedure that has to be followed,’ she said. ‘Mr Screech is very particular about it. When a book first arrives, it is inspected for damage – can’t have them leaking their magic all over the place. And then it has to be catalogued and classified before it can go to the museum. Unless it is a very special book – then it might be locked in the crypt for safekeeping.’
    ‘The book I brought in yesterday,’ Archie said, thoughtfully, ‘is it special?’
    ‘I don’t think so dear,’ said Marjorie. ‘The only Special Instruction Mr Screech was expecting was the almanac.’
    ‘But the man from Folly & Catchpole said my book had a Special Instruction, too,’ said Archie.
    ‘Really?’ said Marjorie. ‘Well, he must have been mistaken.’
    ‘But it was written on a scroll in a strange language. He translated it.’
    ‘Well, I’m afraid he must have mistranslated it,’ said Marjorie. ‘I’m not surprised. Some of those old magical languages are very confusing.’
    Archie felt a pang of disappointment. ‘Oh,’ he said. Horace Catchpole must have got it wrong. It wasn’t a Special Instruction after all. Archie shrugged. ‘Can I have it back then?’
    Marjorie smiled. ‘Absolutely not! It’s a tradition – every new apprentice brings a book. It’s called a snook. It’s a way of making sure that the apprentice is worthy. Now, let’s get you down to the workshop.’
    The shop doorbell interrupted her. ‘Wait here while I serve this customer. And don’t touch anything.’
    But Archie was no longer listening to her. He could hear a rustling noise from the bookcase where the magical books were kept. At first it sounded like the pages of a newspaper being turned, but as he listened Archie could hear a voice.
    ‘It’s not safe here!’ it rustled. ‘Something is stealing my magic.’
    Archie froze. He peered at the bookcase to see where the sound was coming from and as he didhe heard an answering voice. The second voice sounded like tissue paper crinkling.
    ‘My magic is fading, too!’ it sighed, sadly. ‘Something is taking it all. I will not last much longer.’
    Archie turned his head. The second voice was coming from the top shelf of the bookcase. He stepped closer and put his ear to a little book with a red cover.
    ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
    Silence. Archie waited a few seconds. ‘I know you are there,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I heard you whispering!’
    The tissue-paper voice spoke again. ‘You can hear us?’ it asked, a note of surprise in its crinkly voice.
    ‘Yes, of course,’ Archie said, less certain.
    ‘He can hear us!’ exclaimed the first voice – the one that rustled like a newspaper.
    There was an excited murmuring of papery voices. ‘He can hear us!’ they twittered among themselves. ‘He can hear us!’
    ‘Yes,’ said Archie. ‘And it’s not the first time either. It was your voices I