LITMIR.BIZ

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her breath.

      “Hello, girl!” grinned Ned, doing his best to push away her trunk without hurting her feelings.

      “She’s right happy to have you back, Master Ned, haven’t seen her this sprightly in months,” wheezed Norman.

      “Oh, stop pesterin’ ’im, you lumps – he’s been through enough for one day!” chimed in the sing-song voice of Rocky’s wife.

      Abi “the Beard” looked as cheery and plump as ever, as she waddled over to greet Ned.

      “Come on, you big cossack, put ’im down so I can have a proper look at him.”

      Ned was unceremoniously placed on the grass before Abigail, and she gave him a rib-cracking hug; it put pressure on his graze but that was a small price to pay for one of Abigail’s best.

      Even though Ned had missed them all, for a brief moment he was quite overcome. The Circus of Marvels and its band of oddities had been, till just now, a memory. Up close in the flesh they were brighter, shinier and more strange and noisy than a hundred memories jumbled together.

      “You poor love, don’t you worry, you’re with us now and we’ll have your ma and pa back in no time. Now what’s all this about jossers comin’ with you?” Abigail grinned.

      “I couldn’t leave them at home! I had a bargeist in my kitchen, I think it was an alpha.”

      “Bargeist, is it? Nasty blighters. You send ’em my way next time and I’ll give ’em a wallop they’ll remember,” Abigail winked back, before she noticed the way he was holding his shoulder. “Oh, Ned love, you’re hurt! Lucy’ll want to take a look at that, she’ll have you fixed up in a blink.”

      “Could have been a lot worse, if it hadn’t been for Rocky.”

      “He has his uses,” grinned Abigail. “Though to be fair, they’re mostly about givin’ folk a thump.”

      “It’s good to see you again, Abigail. But … where are we?” Ned could see small lights in the distance, but closer by there were only trees, and grass, and darkness.

      “Hyde Park, dear, central London.”

      “Hyde Park?”

      “Yep. If you’re in the capital and need to hide, Hyde Park’s your best bet. Been a fair-folk stronghold for donkey’s, and as good a place as any to lay low. It’s off the radar, see? But large enough to conceal a small army and with good access to the rest of the city. The woods here are full o’ sprites, kindly little things and always ready to help when it’s needed. It’s lucky we were in the area when the Olswangs messaged us. Soon as we got here, Bene sent Couteau and his best blades to find you.”

      “I must have stepped through the mirror before they got there.”

      “Yes, dear. Still, you’re with us now and this Park will keep you hidden till we figure out what’s what.”

      Ned peered through the darkness. Sure enough, in the canopies of the trees he now recognised the tell-tale glow of sprite light, dancing in the branches. Behind Abigail, the Guffstavson brothers, Sven and Eric, were letting off a celebratory bolt of electricity, for once without needing to be angry, when they were unceremoniously barged out of the way by the most welcome sight Ned had seen all day. A giant mound of furred gorilla in the shape of dear George the Mighty, his friend and protector, who in turn was jostling for position with Lucy Beaumont. She was more than a friend or even family, and the bond between them as unbreakable as the rings they both wore at their fingers.

      A swift crack of the elbow saw Lucy get to Ned first.

      “I say, that’s dashed rude,” grumped George, who in truth had barely felt the jab she’d given him. “Hello, old bean, I—”

      “Shut it, monkey – Ned!” shrieked Lucy. “I’ve been worried sick!” She closed her eyes briefly and paused for a moment. “And with good reason: the bargeist managed to get a tooth on you, didn’t it?”

      “How did you know that?”

      “It’s kind of my job, I’m the troupe’s new medic,” smiled his friend, before putting her hand gently on his shoulder and blinking. Abigail was right, it literally took a blink and Ned felt Lucy’s healing powers flooding through the wound like warm honey. A second later and the small cut had completely healed itself, as though it had never been there at all. Ned had seen Lucy work her gifts, but never so quickly or effortlessly.

      “Wow, thanks, Lucy. You’ve got better at that.”

      “You’re welcome. It’s all in the way you do the blinking,” and she followed it up with a wink.

      Of everyone in the circus, from the satyr-horned acrobats to the feather and leopard-skinned dancing girls, it was George and Lucy that Ned had really needed to see. He had forgotten how vast and intimidating the oversized gorilla actually was, but no two sets of eyes or smiles could have done more to ease the pain of a missing mum and dad. And if Ned was happy to see them, his semi-loyal wind-up mouse was not far behind. Whiskers unfurled himself from Ned’s trouser leg for the first time since they’d heard the bargeist and made a bee-line straight for Lucy. In a second he’d scampered up her jeans and found a comfortable spot on her shoulder.

      “Hello, Whiskers, I’ve missed you too,” she said.

      “Don’t be nice to him, he’s behaved shamefully,” teased Ned, at his cowardly and now turncoat mouse.

      The Debussy Mark Twelve promptly responded by sticking its tongue out at its master before nuzzling into Lucy’s neck.

      “So what happened?” Lucy asked.

      “I don’t know, really. A bargeist and a man turned up at my house and they’ve got Mum and Dad.”

      She looked stricken. “I knew about the man, but I hoped they’d got away.” In that moment, all the goodwill, the excitement at their reunion, drained from Lucy’s face.

      “But we’ll get them back, right?” said Ned.

      Lucy smiled weakly. “I hope so. I mean … your mum … she’s kind of my …” Her voice broke.

      Ned closed his eyes for a moment, feeling like a fool. “Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry. I – I know she raised you at the convent, you must be as upset as I am. I didn’t even think, I—”

      “Shh,” said Lucy, giving his arm an awkward punch. “You’ve had a pretty bad day as days go.”

      She smiled, and Ned hugged her, as a shadow fell over them both.

      George was at least twice the size of a normal gorilla and loomed over them like a great weathered oak, his face knotted with concern.

      “We’ll find them soon enough,” he rumbled. “And when I find out which rotter is responsible, I’ll make them pay, pound for pound, for what they’ve done.”

      As Ned watched the great ape’s fur bristle, he had no doubt that George would, just as surely as he felt his heart plummet. This was the Circus of Marvels, the greatest troupe on earth. If they didn’t know who was behind his parents’ kidnap – who actually would? And that was when he noticed. Even under lamp and fairy light, Ned saw beyond their gathered grins and realised there was something different about them. They were worn and battered, one or two of them had arms in slings and Enrico, the youngest of the Tortellini brothers, was walking with a noticeable limp.

      “What’s … what’s been going on here?” said Ned.

      George shrugged. “Ned,” he said, “you have a lot to catch up on.”

      

      

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