Starspill E-Book

Catherine Fisher

• Herausgeber: Firefly Press Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 262

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

It's been 140 years since the Wolf swallowed the Sun, so why are all the cats in the dark, fog-shrouded town of Starspill bothering Zac about it now? He just wants to stay warm, listen to stories, and work hard for his brother as an apprentice starsmith. But the cats have other ideas. They want Zac to steal one of the three legendary Embers of the Sun from the town museum for them, and they've taken his precious secret map to make sure he'll agree!

Leseprobe

vTo Sam and Lily vi

Contents

Title PageDedicationChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneAbout the AuthorCopyright

1

Chapter One

‘Letmetellyoumynightmare,’theFogwhispered.

‘Itwillbelikenothingyou’veeverheard.’

It was a hundred and forty years since the Wolf had swallowed the Sun, and Zac was trying very hard to sleep.

He lay curled in a tight ball under the woollen blankets.

Outside, the Fog pressed against his window, as it did every night, and the steep winding streets of the town of Starspill were shadowy and mysterious. Houses loomed up in the greyness like lost memories; even in daylight they were only dim gables and corners. No one alive was old enough to remember what the buildings looked like, what the town would be, without its cloak of Fog.

Zac rolled over. He was having a disturbing sort of dream that the catch on the window was rattling 2urgently. Then something made a muffled bump against the glass pane. A small voice mewed, ‘Zac! Let me in!’

Zac buried his head under the pillow. ‘Go away. I’m asleep.’

‘It’s freezing out here. Hurry up!’

He knew it was the kitten. The cats of Starspill were cool and haughty and rarely spoke to humans if they could help it, but there was a small black one that had been coming to the house lately and had even allowed him to rub its head twice.

‘Let me in or I’ll put a secret sign on the house,’ the voice demanded. ‘You’ll be overrun with mice in a week.’

Zac muttered and twisted and tried to cover his ears, but he knew it was useless; he would have to get up and the sooner he did it, the quicker he could get back in the warmth. In one explosive movement he burst out of the blankets, ran over the floor, unlatched the casement and dived back into bed.

He shivered.

It was amazing how cold you could get in only a few seconds!

A tiny black paw pushed the window open; at 3once the Fog poured into the room. Zac shuddered and curled deeper under the blankets.

‘Please shut it after you,’ he begged.

There was no answer, so he opened one eye. Dimly, he could see the kitten jumping in. Quickly it ran across his desk and onto the bed. It sat upright on his back, claws digging in through the blanket and his pyjamas. ‘Get lost,’ he muttered. ‘I’m asleep.’

The kitten put its face very close to his, so that its whiskers tickled his cheek.

‘This is not a dream,’ it said.

Something in its voice chilled him more than the cold. He tried to sit up, but the kitten wouldn’t let him move.

‘What do you want?’

‘It’s not just me.’ It looked down its nose at the room, at the untidy clothes and the scatter of papers and drawings. ‘Human boy, this place is a disgrace.’

‘Oh, sorry! If I’d known you were coming I would have tidied up.’ Zac’s voice was acid. ‘Anyway, what do you mean, not just you?’ Was the kitten bringing a friend? If so, he’d have to feed them both, of course – it was the law in Starspill to feed any cat that came to the house.4

The kitten’s green eyes blinked with excitement. ‘Tonight, it’s all of us. It’s the Catclave!’

The window banged. Another cat jumped through, a large tabby. Zac opened his mouth to speak and then stopped because a third cat followed.

Then a fourth.

Then a fifth.

Then a sixth…

‘Wait a minute!’ he gasped.

But they kept on coming, cat after cat. A never-ending stream of paws and lithe bodies, glinting eyes and long tails, flowed in through his window, pushing and shoving and mewing.

Zac rolled over and lay there, staring in astonishment. The cats climbed all over the bed, they crowded the headboard and lined the windowsill and mantelpiece, they sprawled and scratched and nosed over his notes and sketchbooks.

‘Hey! Be careful!’ he gasped, but he had to whisper it because Gryff and Martha were snoring in the bedroom next door and the last thing he wanted was them coming in too.

Was it a dream? It wasn’t like any dream he’d ever had. The cats were so intent and silent. There was 5something terrifying about their stealth. It had the urgency of hunters, the sleek obsession of predators. Now they sat all around him, maybe a hundred of them, their eyes fixed on him: a circle of unblinking attention.

He put out his hand towards the star-lamp.

‘Leave that,’ the kitten snapped. ‘For this sort of business, we prefer the dark.’

Zac backed up against the pillow.

One last big tom jumped in and the window slammed shut behind it. The Fog that had slid inside hung in the room, a grey mistiness, slinking close, listening.

Zac took a breath. He felt deeply worried. ‘What do you all want?’

The black kitten sat on his chest now and blinked. But it was another voice that answered, from a large white cat with a silver collar on the table. ‘This is the Catclave,’ it said quietly. ‘The Meeting Under the Moon. It is not usual for humans to be invited. You will not speak of it to anyone.’

Zac snapped, ‘Invited! That must have got lost in the post.’ He was scared, and that made him angry.

‘Listen, and don’t interrupt. You have been chosen. We have a job for you.’6

It was hard to see which of them was speaking. It was as if they all shared a voice or passed it around.

‘I already work for my brother.’

‘Not that sort of work. A secret task. For us.’

‘Making lamps?’

‘No. Stop asking foolish questions and listen.’ A cat’s head turned. ‘Bring him the key!’

A movement at the end of the bed made Zac scramble up in alarm and the kitten fell off with a squeak. A very large cat pushed through the others; it had a piece of string in its mouth. On the end of the string dangled a heavy metal key far too big for any house or shop.

The cat dropped the key on Zac’s chest.

‘Ouch!’ He grabbed at it. ‘What’s this? I don’t—’

‘This is the key to the Museum.’

‘The Museum!’

‘Listen carefully.’ The kitten was speaking now, right in his face, its voice tight with excitement. ‘Two nights from now, exactly at midnight, you will use that key to enter the Museum. You will be alone, masked, and dressed in dark clothing. Once inside you will make your way silently through the corridors and galleries.’7

Zac couldn’t believe this. ‘What? Look…’

A cat on the desk blinked green eyes. ‘Don’t worry about the alarms. We will take care of those.’

‘Alarms? This is mad!’

‘You will pass through the Hall of Wolves, along the Gallery of Soul Paintings and up the Staircase of Song. Here you will turn right into the Secret Wing. Take great care crossing the Pavilion of White Birds – it’s quite possible that some of them may be awake and watchful. You will find your way through the rooms and corridors until you find one that leads to the very heart of the Museum. Follow it. At the end is a small door, marked with a sun-sign. This is the Chamber of Darkness. You will unlock the door with a combination we will provide.’

‘I’m dreaming this,’ Zac said firmly. ‘This is just a nightmare.’

‘It’s not.’ The kitten’s green eyes were fixed on him. ‘Avoiding any traps or guard-lines you will make your way to the centre of the Chamber. There, on an ebony pillar, you will find the Steel Globe. You will open the globe and remove what it contains. The Ember of the Sun.’

‘What?’ said Zac again. He was appalled. He 8couldn’t believe this. He leapt out of bed, a scatter of cats falling off him. He stood among a carpet of fur and tails. ‘You’re all CRAZY!’

The cat-voice was cool, coming this time from a sleek animal stretched out on the floor. ‘You will need to remove the Ember very carefully. It is extremely hot and may burn your paws, so wear gloves and have a suitable container ready.’

‘No way!’ He laughed in disbelief. ‘You actually want me to go into the Museum at night and steal the most precious thing in our town.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And when I get caught?’

‘You won’t be caught.’ The cool voice seemed to be amused. ‘You were chosen because you are clever and resourceful.’

That silenced him. Despite his dismay, he felt a flicker of pride. But he shook his head. ‘But what about when people see the Ember is gone, and—’

‘No one will know.’

‘Of course they will!’

‘They won’t. Because you will replace it with a star from your brother’s shop.’

Zac breathed out.

The hundred cats watched him in silence.9

Now he was in a cold sweat of terror, because he realised they had this all worked out, and they were deadly serious.

‘You want me to steal from my brother as well? That’s why you chose me?’

‘As we said, among other reasons. You are good at working alone. You can keep secrets. We know you have certain secrets of your own.’

That startled him. He licked his lips. ‘But why do you want the Ember?’

‘Not your business.’ The kitten had climbed back up onto the bedpost. Its green eyes stared directly into his.

Zac shivered. The Museum! Being in there at night would be so spooky… And then he gave a shaky laugh because he realised that, for a minute, he had actually been thinking about doing it.

‘No! I’m sorry, but no. The answer’s no.’ He shook his head; a spurt of defiance shot into him. ‘Why would I even consider it? It’s ridiculous! You can’t make me.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not true. We are the Catclave,’ the cat with the silver collar remarked. Then it said, ‘Show him.’

All the cats turned their heads. They moved away, 10leaving a clear space by the window. In the space were a few bare floorboards.

Zac gave a gasp of sudden understanding. ‘NO!’ He ran through the cats, threw himself down and tugged up the loose board that hid his deepest secret.

Underneath was a dusty space. It was completely empty. The Map was gone.

He wanted to howl with rage. But he managed to keep his voice to a tight angry whisper.

‘Where is it?’

‘We have it, and it is safe. It will be returned to you when you bring us the Ember. No one will ever know you have it.’

Zac put his hand into the space and groped in the dark, unable to believe that something that he had studied and dreamed over for so long had just vanished. A hard small thing rolled under his fingers; he pulled it out.

It was his favourite pen, the nib dry and clotted with dust. He held it tight.

‘So, you agree?’ the cat said.

‘No! Well… Look…’

‘Of course, there will also be a reward for you.’

‘What reward?’

‘A gift from us.’11

‘Yes, but what?’

‘That wherever you go, whatever you do, if you ever need help, you can call on us. Any cat, anywhere, will do all they can to assist you.’

It didn’t seem that much of a gift to him.

He shook his head again, sat on the bed and pulled the blanket up around him. He was trying to fight down his anger that they had come in here and robbed him of the Map, but behind that was a small ridiculous pride. What had they said? Youareresourcefulandclever.

He liked that.

But to steal the Ember of the Sun! It struck him with terror. And yet what choice did he have? He had to get the Map back, because it was precious and there was nothing else like it.

Suddenly he looked up. ‘All right, I’ll do it.’

The cats murmured with satisfaction.

‘On two conditions.’

Their eyes, green and amber and blue, waited.

‘First, I’m allowed to tell one other person, and that will be my friend Alys Candlemaker. I can’t do something like this alone. I need some back-up. You know her?’

The cats looked at each other.12

‘Tall, pale, gives generous plates of fish heads,’ one said.

‘Likes to get her own way,’ another muttered from the back.

Zac nodded. ‘Yes, that’s her. I need to tell her. Second, you swear now not to tell anyone – anyone– about my map. Ever.’

If cats could smirk, they were all smirking. He didn’t trust them an inch.

‘We swear,’ the kitten said.

He shrugged. ‘Well, in that case … I’ll do it.’

‘Excellent. That’s settled.’

All the cats relaxed. A few started washing. A large tom stood up on the windowsill and said, ‘Await our further instructions. Be ready to act. You will need to hide the Ember here until we can take it from you.’

‘Here! But Martha! My sister-in-law. She’s bound to find it. Do you know what she’s like?’

It was useless. They weren’t even looking at him now, never mind listening. The window was open, and they were streaming through it like a white, black and tabby river of fur and whiskers. In minutes they were gone, and only the scattered papers on his desk, the crumpled bed sheets and a 13few scratchings of fur and a whisker showed where they had been.

The black kitten stayed until last. At the window it paused and turned. ‘Sorry about disturbing you,’ it said. ‘You did the right thing, you know. It’s such a wonderful plan!’ Zac could see the excitement in the tiny creature, right down to the crinkle of its whiskers and the clicking of its claws.

‘What do they want with a piece of the Sun?’ he asked quietly. ‘I mean … what good is it? The Sun is gone; there’s only the Fog now.’

The kitten jumped up and wriggled through the window. It looked back in and blinked at him. ‘It might not always be like that.’

‘I don’t see how things can change.’

‘You never know. By the way, you were my idea, you know. Choosing you for this task, I mean.’ It purred contentedly. ‘The Catclave commended my judgement. So you’d better not let me down.’

Zac shook his head, rueful. ‘I can’t really say thanks. And l always thought cats were cute, cuddly things.’

The kitten shuddered. ‘We let people think that. The truth is just a little bit different. Sleep tight.’

When it was gone the room was cold, and empty. 14Zac sat on the bed, huddled up over his knees. It had all happened so suddenly he was bewildered. Surely he hadn’t really agreed to rob the Museum? Surely the town cats hadn’t really stolen his Map? Then he looked up.

The room was not empty. The Fog was still there.

It hung over his desk and books, as if trying to read them, a shivery damp drifting greyness that your eyes could never focus on.

He got up at once and went to the window. Looking out into the darkness he saw the steep, twisty town: Marmalade Court, Hang-Man’s Lane, and further up the hill, High Street and Devil’s Dog Row, all the shop signs and inn boards creaking in the greyness.

Zac stood there and wondered what the kitten had meant. Nothing could change. The Wolf had eaten the Sun and now there was only the Fog, everywhere, all the time. It fingered windows and drifted through keyholes. It slid under doors and infiltrated cracks. Nothing could keep it out. It looked at itself in mirrors and crawled into cupboards and explored secret drawers in hidden cellars. The Fog loved the town, embraced and hugged the town. The Fog had moved in for good and everyone knew it would never, never leave.15

He closed the window.

Some people said the Fog had a mind and could understand things. He didn’t know about that. But he did know that if it could hear, it had heard everything they’d said here tonight.

So it wasn’t just the cats in this town that knew all his secrets. The Fog knew them too.

16

Chapter Two

Who can save us from the dark?

the people wondered.

Then the stars began to fall,

and they laughed.

‘Look at you! You can’t keep your eyes open.’ Gryff shook his head. ‘I suppose you’ve been reading at night again.’

‘No. Well…’

‘Just don’t let Martha catch you wasting the starlight. And stop yawning. You’ll start me off.’

Zac yawned again and went on polishing the small star on his workbench. It was a red one, the most common sort. There were dozens of them in the storeroom, and they were the only ones Gryff would let him work on yet. The star gave off a dull ruby glow, just about lighting his fingers and the file that rasped its surface. It was boring work, but 17he quite liked the soothing, careful action, and the dust that fell on his worktable and glittered. When the star was finished, he would fit it into a small brass lamp that stood ready, the sort usually used only in bedrooms. Then it would go into the shop and be sold.

He was tired. Even after he’d climbed back into bed last night it had been hard to sleep, the cats’ demands and orders going round and round in his head. He couldn’t remember half of what they had said, except for the stark fact that he had to steal the Ember of the Sun. It was like a nightmare. Completely impossible. As he worked, he told himself to forget all about it. But if he refused, he might never see the Map again. And the Map fascinated him. Martha put her head round the door. ‘Customer coming in.’

‘Anyone important?’ Gryff said.

‘Maisie Baker. She’ll just want a replacement for the bakery lamp.’ She looked at Zac. ‘If you ask me, we should buy him an alarm clock. Oh, and did you open your window in the night?’

Zac went cold. ‘No. Why?’

‘Thought I heard it. Don’t you even think of climbing out for a midnight walk.’18

‘I wouldn’t. Honestly.’

Gryff just laughed. ‘Go and serve the customer. Leave the boy alone.’

Martha snorted and went. She was tall and thin and bony, and she rarely even smiled. Zac had no idea why his brother had married her.

He looked at Gryff. The Starsmith was eight years older than he was: a big, hearty man wrapped in his brown canvas apron. His face was star-burned from years of work, his hair cropped short like a bristle-brush, his eyes blue and cheery. There was nothing Gryff didn’t enjoy and nothing, it seemed, that Martha did. They were chalk and cheese.

‘How’s that going?’ Gryff came over. Zac showed him the polished star. ‘Not bad at all. You can fit it now.’

Zac was pleased. He rubbed the last dust from the star with a soft cloth, then slid it into the lamp. It lit with a warm red glow.

‘I think we might move you on to something more ambitious.’ Gryff put the lamp on the shelf. Then he said, ‘She didn’t mean to be grumpy you know. She’s a light sleeper. It was probably a cat coming or going. The dratted creatures are everywhere.’19

Zac nodded. There was a thud upstairs – he wondered if Martha had gone up to his room. But if she had, there was nothing to find there now. He sat back down at his bench and thought about his lost secret.

About the Map.

It was so old and worn, just a fragment of paper – really thick parchmenty stuff that crackled as you unfolded it. He had found it used as wrapping around an order of steel files that Gryff had sent for from Foghaven. Zac had been about to throw the paper in the bin, when something on it caught his eye.

He had turned it over and stared.

Valleys and mountains. Strange animals drawn in the corners, with writing under them he couldn’t understand. Names of small towns, and lines in faded red that might be roads. Symbols like castles. A blue river, with islands. He had stood frozen, staring at it for half a second, and then, without even thinking, had raced upstairs with it and shut his bedroom door.

Slowly and carefully, his heart thumping with excitement, he had put the Map on his bed and opened it out. It showed a green and beautiful land, with great jagged mountains far to the north, and 20something in the west that was blue and drawn with long rippling lines. That puzzled him. But the names all over the Map were the most fascinating thing. They were written in a crabbed, hurried handwriting, and they looked as if they were all written backwards, the letters were so strange. The thing that puzzled him most was that he couldn’t see the town of Starspill, however hard he looked. The Map showed a fragment of a secret, lost world, and he had no idea if what it showed really existed, because everything was under the Fog now, and hardly anyone ever left Starspill.

He had hidden the Map in his secret place under the floor, and he liked to take it out at night and lie in bed looking at it, following the roads with his finger, down valleys and beside lakes.

On the right-hand side, just at the edge, the roads were closer and there was what looked like the start of a city, and the words TheCrystalCastle. But the Map had been torn here. He would never know what was beyond the edge but looking at it made him see the world, just for a moment, without the Fog.

He frowned. How could the cats have stolen it? Did they know everything that went on in the town?21

Suddenly Martha was back, her thin face round the door. ‘Gryff! Quick! You won’t believe who’s looking in the shop window.’

‘Who? The King?’

‘Don’t be stupid. Come and look.’

Gryff rubbed his hands on his apron and ambled out, deliberately slowly. Zac hurried behind.

The shop was foggy, even though, of course, it was the best lit shop in the town. Lamps lined every shelf. There were lanterns and safety glows, chandeliers, lustres, tall lamps, angled lamps, desk lights, rockets, flares and torches. All of them were lit by star power. Dim red stars glowed in columns and cubes and under silk shades. Red stars were the cheapest. Then came the yellow ones, held in more expensive lanterns or in the claws of carved birds and animals. There was a real fashion for wooden animals at the moment.

Zac’s favourite was an elephant holding a spiky yellow star high in its curled trunk. He’d only seen pictures of an elephant, but whoever carved this obviously knew what real ones were like.

Then there were the blue stars. These were mostly used in big public buildings or at Midwinter. They had a cool, eerie shimmer that made him think of 22ice caves, and caverns under the sea, not that he had ever seen the sea either.

The rarest stars, kept safely on the top shelf, were the white ones. They were by far the most expensive, and were only lit when a customer with real money came in. Gryff had seven in stock and the light from them was astonishing.

They were the brightest things Zac had ever seen and he really, really wanted to find one on the next Gather, when Gryff decided to take him.

‘Zac, get back to work!’

Martha was glaring at him. But before he could take a step, the door opened with a jangle of bells and the Master Candlemaker walked in.

Zac stared.

Martha stood up straighter. Gryff gaped.

None of them could believe what they were seeing.

John Candlemaker was their deadliest business rival for providing light to Starspill. He used candles in every room in his house and boasted that he didn’t need expensive lamps. He barely nodded to Gryff and Martha in the street. He never EVER came into their shop.

After a second Gryff managed to speak. ‘Good morning, Candlemaker.’23

‘Good morning, Starsmith.’ John Candlemaker put down both hands on the counter and looked carefully around. ‘So, this is your stock. Very nice. That is, if you like bright, harsh glare. I prefer a softer, flickering light myself. Far more flattering.’ He was a tall pale skinny man. He even looked like a candle.

‘Oh…’ Even Martha was struggling for words. ‘Then … what do you want?’

‘I’ve come to buy a lamp.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’ John Candlemaker looked embarrassed and sounded seriously annoyed. ‘It’s not for me, you understand. No, it’s for her.’

He stepped aside and there was a girl behind him.

Alys!

Zac grinned.

Like her father, Alys was tall and pale and thin. Her hair was blonde, almost white, really, and her skin seemed translucent as wax. She grinned back at him.

‘Hi Zac.’

‘Hi Alys,’ he muttered.

John Candlemaker’s voice was grim. ‘It’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow and even though I 24have hundreds of candles of every size and shape she has asked … that is, she’s demanding…’

‘I want a star-lamp,’ Alys said calmly. ‘A yellow one. I’m sick of candles. It’s not too much to ask.’

Zac wanted to laugh but didn’t dare.

‘Aaah!’ Gryff said. ‘Really? So even the best of us are bossed by our women, hey John? They always get what they want.’

Martha flicked a dark glance at him but even her mouth was twitching. She said, ‘Well I think that’s a beautiful idea, Alys. Just come and take a look at these, my lovely. I think we’ve got just the thing for your bedroom.’

Alys was led along the rows of lamps, and she inspected them closely. Her head was high and she was clearly enjoying herself. Her father shuffled his feet and looked disgusted.

‘Candles have always been good enough for my family,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, Dada, don’t be mean.’ Alys stopped abruptly before a yellow star in a tiny lantern held by a wooden mouse. ‘Oh!’ she breathed. ‘That is amazing! Can I see?’ Martha took it down and gave it to her. The mouse had a little coat and shoes carved on it.25

‘Luke Woodturner in Slippery Street does the figures for us,’ Martha said.

‘I love it.’ Alys turned, imperious. ‘This is the one I want, Dada. Can we buy it now?’

The Candlemaker sighed. ‘How much?’

‘Five shillings,’ Martha said. She sounded smug.

‘Good Lord! Well … all right. This once.’

Alys gave a little ‘Yes!!’ of delight and brought the lamp over to the counter. She set it down in front of Zac. ‘Wrap it up for me,’ she ordered.

He hesitated a moment, then pulled a piece of brown paper from the big roll on the wall and put the lamp on it, folding the paper carefully around it, then finding some string to tie it securely.

Martha was taking the money that the Candlemaker was counting out. Gryff turned away to rearrange the lamps.

Instantly Zac leaned towards Alys. His voice was an urgent whisper. ‘I need to tell you something.’

‘What?’

‘Not here. Can you get to the Storyhouse? Tonight?’

‘Well…’

‘Be there! It’s important!’

Martha turned round. Zac tied the last knot and held the parcel out.26

Alys took it haughtily. ‘Thank you, Zac.’

She swept round, caught her father’s hand, and dragged him to the door. Before Gryff had the chance to say, ‘Hope we’ll see you in here again soon, John,’ they had both vanished into the Fog.

Gryff took a breath.

Martha giggled.

Zac couldn’t help grinning.

Suddenly they were all laughing till it hurt.

‘Did you see that long, thin streak of misery!’ Gryff gasped, when he could manage to talk. ‘Five shillings. To us! It almost killed him! You can certainly see who’s the boss in that house. Oh my! I haven’t enjoyed anything so much in years!’

Zac sat down. His sides ached from laughing.

Martha wiped tears from her eyes. ‘Five shillings! She certainly knows what she wants! The little minx!’

‘Is she like that at school, Zac?’ Gryff asked.

Zac stopped laughing. ‘Sometimes.’

There was silence.

‘I suppose you miss them all,’ Gryff muttered. ‘In school, I mean … your friends.’

‘A bit.’

It had been Martha’s idea to take him out of school to learn the star trade. He wasn’t too young, 27some of the other boys had left when they were only ten or eleven. But it was true he missed school. Especially the books and the stories! There were very few books at home, and he’d read them all anyway. It was getting hard not to be bored.

He looked up. ‘It’s just … if we had more … well, things to read.’

‘I can help you with that,’ a voice said quietly.

None of them had heard the door open, but a man was standing in their shop.

He was a dark-haired man in a long black coat and a scarf of some dusky, shimmery velvet. He had a canvas bag slung on his back, which seemed to be full of papers.

Zac gave a gasp. Even Gryff stood up. A stranger!

There were never any strangers in Starspill.

Gryff said, ‘Who are you? And how did you get in here?’

‘I just walked in. You were so busy laughing, you didn’t notice.’ The stranger bowed formally, in a way no one did here, with one hand on his heart. ‘And my name is Aurelian Bookseller.’

‘I haven’t seen you around before.’ Gryff sounded unusually curt, as if he was uneasy.

‘Maybe that’s because I’ve only just come to the 28town.’ The man gazed around at the lit stars; the red and yellow lights flickered in his dark eyes. ‘But this is such a wonderful shop. Such beautiful lamps.’

Martha folded her arms. ‘Are you going to buy one?’

‘Soon perhaps. But not today.’ He glanced quickly at Zac, just a flicker but the glance was as sharp as a knife. For a moment Zac felt as if the man had seen right through him. He shivered.

‘Today I’m exploring the town. And advertising. I’ve opened the old empty shop in Cat Cradle Court. It’s going to be a bookshop. Forgive me, but I couldn’t help overhearing what you said.’

‘Books!’ Zac said. He was pleased. ‘Really?’

The man smiled. ‘Really. I heard Starspill had no bookshop, and what use is a town without words? Without history, poetry, or stories?’

‘We have stories,’ Martha snapped. ‘At the Storyhouse.’

‘Ah yes. I know. But there can never be enough stories.’

‘Where do you come from?’ Martha’s question sounded rude, but Aurelian didn’t seem to mind.