Alistair Grim's Odditorium (6 page)

I made to speak, but then quickly stopped myself.

“I suggest you consider your answer carefully,” said Mr. G. “Your sooty face speaks volumes, and I’ll know at once if you’re lying.”

“Yes, sir,” I said finally.

“And what exactly did you see?”

“Well, sir,” I began slowly, “I peeked out when we were leaving the Lamb, heard Mr. Crumbsby’s hounds setting off after me, and saw the inn disappear round the bend. I
suppose I also peeked out a handful of times along the High Road, but then…”

I hesitated one last time, for upon remembering Mrs. Pinch’s instructions, I decided that a proper gentleman like Mr. G would not be interested in my silly dream of flying about the
countryside.

“Then what?” asked Mr. G. “What else did you see?”

“Nothing, sir,” I said quickly. “What I mean is, I must’ve fallen asleep, sir. For the next thing I remember is being carried in the trunk on Mr. Nigel’s
shoulders.”

I waited for what seemed like an hour of clock ticking. Finally a tall, slender gentleman dressed entirely in black rose from behind the mountain of books on his desk.

I took in the most obvious of his features at once: longish, slicked-back hair, black-ringed eyes, and a drawn, chiseled face that glowed whitish-blue like the moon. He looked me up and down as
if inspecting a horse, but at the same time I sensed something dangerous beneath his cold appraisal—when without warning he lurched forward on his desk and snarled,
“
Liar!
”

His eyes blazed, and his thin lips stretched wide around a toothy grin.

Terrified, I spun on my heels and made for the exit—but the pair of samurai beside the pocket doors crossed their long spears and blocked my escape.

I shrieked, turned round, and saw that the other samurai had left their posts and were now coming for me around the desk—armor clanging, their swords drawn, and their eyes glowing
blue!

I shrieked again, and as I raised my arms to protect myself, discovered that the silver water goblet was still in my hand.

Clang, clang, clang!
The four samurai marched closer and closer, and without thinking, I flung the goblet at the nearest one.

The goblet struck the samurai’s helmet with a heavy clank, knocking it to the floor. But where the warrior’s head should have been, there was only a shaft of blue light shooting up
from his body.

I gasped in horror, and the samurai stopped. The three with their helmets still attached turned their glowing blue eyes to their headless companion, who promptly waved his armored hand back and
forth above his shoulders. Finding nothing there, he shrugged, and the four samurai resumed their advance as if nothing had happened.

Clang, clang, clang!

I backed away, but the two samurai by the door grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Please, sir!” I cried, struggling against their viselike grip. “I wasn’t lying, sir, I thought it was a dream!”

“You’re at the Odditorium, lad,” said Mr. G, grinning cruelly. “And dreams are all we have here!”

Clang, clang, clang!

I closed my eyes, steeling myself to receive the samurai’s sword points, and then my ears cracked with thunder and I felt a flash of heat across my face.

So this is what it’s like to die, I thought. But in the next moment, a high-pitched voice cried out: “YOU SHALL NOT HARM HIM!”

The grip on my shoulders released, and I opened my eyes to find the entire room bathed in a milky-yellow haze. Incredibly, all of the samurai were moving away from me, but there was something
strange in their retreat.

They’re not retreating, I realized. They’re flying!

Light as goose down on a summer breeze, the samurai floated up into the air, over Mr. G’s desk, and back to their posts.

I barely had time to wonder at it, and then a bright yellow ball of light quickly descended from the ceiling and wrapped me in a cloak of shimmering stars.

Much to my astonishment, it was now
my
turn to fly. And in a single bound I floated, eyes wide and mouth gaping, over the armchairs and landed on the hearth.

The light flashed and flickered and began to swirl about me like a cluster of yellow fireflies—round and round, faster and faster—until a great wind lifted me onto my tippy-toes.
Then all at once the fireflies turned black, gathered in a great, rolling mass before my face, and whooshed off behind me, spinning me round on my heels as they shot up the chimney and out of
sight.

“Cor blimey!” I gasped, gaping at my hands and coat sleeves.

All the soot, every last speck of it, was gone from my body. My gray chummy clothes were cleaner than I’d ever seen them, and my skin—well, I suspected my skin hadn’t been this
clean since the day I was born.

“Splendid, lad!” Mr. G exclaimed, and I turned to find him coming around the desk. The malice was gone from his smile, and in the crook of his elbow he held the samurai’s
helmet.

I just stood there, frozen in amazement.

“Terribly sorry about all that,” said Mr. G, smiling. “But it was necessary, Master Grubb, I assure you.”

“A trick?” the high-pitched voice cried out, and I spun around to discover an enormous dollhouse suspended from the ceiling in the corner behind me. The door to the dollhouse was
open, and there, hovering before it, glowed another fantastical ball of bright yellow light.

“Not a trick, but a test,” said Mr. G. Then he turned back to me and whispered, “And quite an effective test, at that.”

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt frozen—when all of a sudden the yellow ball of light streaked out from the dollhouse and stopped, trembling in midair, only inches from Mr. G’s
nose.

“How about you pick on someone your own size!” the ball hissed. It began to grow bigger and bigger until, along the edge closest to Mr. G’s face, there appeared the faint but
unmistakable outline of teeth.

“Temper, temper,” said Mr. G, unmoved. “I never doubted for a moment that you’d intercede to protect the child. But the test had to be authentic; the child’s fear,
genuine. How else could I be sure your magic was powerful enough?”

“Because I told you it was, you skinny little
twig
!”

The ball growled, its teeth becoming clearer and sharper as they parted into a monstrous, gaping crescent.

“Oh, very well, then,” sighed Mr. G. “Go ahead and gobble me up. See where that gets us in the end.”

The yellow ball just hovered there for a moment, shaking with fury until finally it zoomed back to the dollhouse. The light popped and fizzled, and then a little yellow girl with dragonfly wings
and crystal-blue eyes materialized on the roof. “Silly twig,” she muttered weakly, then slumped down and pouted with her back against one of the chimneys.

“Fairies,” groaned Mr. G, rolling his eyes. The little yellow girl growled in reply and hurled a ball of light in his direction. Mr. G dodged it, and the ball burst apart against a
large, colorful top upon his desk.

The top rose into the air and began to spin of its own accord. Mr. G quickly scooped it up with the samurai’s helmet and turned the helmet over on his desk. A flash of bright green light
exploded through the scowling face mask.

Mr. G removed the helmet, and the top was motionless again.

“It was
you
I saw coming out of the Black Forest,” I said in astonishment. “You captured Gwendolyn the Yellow Fairy!”

“Captured?” said Mr. G. “Oh, I think not, Master Grubb. Brokered an alliance is more like it.”

“An alliance,” cried the Yellow Fairy. “Hah!”

“An alliance out of
mutual necessity
,” Mr. G said for her benefit as well as mine. “But then again, we needn’t get into all that now.” He leaned back on the
edge of his desk and folded his arms. “No, the most pressing matter at hand is what to do with
you
, Master Grubb. I must confess, I had no intention of acquiring a chimney sweep in my
travels.”

My gaze dropped to my shoes. Now my head had room for nothing but thoughts of what was to become of me.

“From what Mrs. Pinch tells me,” said Mr. G, thinking, “I certainly can’t send you back to that chap with the scar. And to turn an orphan like yourself out on the streets
of London—”

“
London?
” I gasped, eyes wide.

“You mean to tell me that you had no idea you’re in London, lad?”

“No, I didn’t, Mr.…uh…”

“Grim,” he said with a slight bow. “Alistair Grim. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Grubb.”

“Likewise, Mr. G—I mean, uh, Mr. Grim, sir.”

“As I was saying, to turn you out now in your present situation would no doubt ensure you a life of beggary and thieving. There are the workhouses, of course—”

I swallowed hard, my stomach in my throat.

“—but most would rather die than live in such places. Then again, I can’t very well let you go around London babbling on about fairies and whatnot. Of course, anyone who
listened to you would think you touched in the head. But there’s always the chance someone might take you seriously and make trouble for us here at the Odditorium.”

“The Odd—uh—I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Odd-ih-
tor
-ee-um,” Mr. Grim repeated. “Go ahead. Give it a try, lad.”

“Odditorium,” I said slowly.

“Very good, Master Grubb. A word unlike any other for a place unlike any other.”

I glanced over at the Yellow Fairy, who was now listening intently and batting her thick, black eyelashes at me.

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Grim, sir,” I said, daring to meet his gaze. “But, if you don’t mind my asking, sir, what sort of place is this Odditorium?”

Mr. Grim smiled and replaced the helmet atop the samurai’s shoulders. “Well, that remains to be seen, now, doesn’t it, Master Grubb?”

“If you say so, sir,” I said uneasily.

“Tell me. In addition to hiding in trunks, do you possess any other talent of which I should be aware?”

“Talent, sir?”

“Yes, Master Grubb, something at which you excel.”

“Well, sir, I—if I may be so bold—I do fancy myself quite the expert chummy.”

“Which would imply that you excel both at climbing and at squeezing through narrow spaces. What else?”

“Well, sir,” I said, thinking, “I can run fast, especially when I’m being chased by blokes bigger than me. And, I can read a bit—the lady who took me in taught me
that before she died, as well as how to count my fingers and toes. I’ve since taught myself to read better and count higher and…well, I’m afraid that’s about it, Mr.
Grim.”

“A boy of twelve or thereabouts who excels at climbing and squeezing through narrow spaces, who can also read a bit and count higher than his fingers and toes? Well, then, perhaps we, too,
can broker an alliance.”

“An alliance, Mr. Grim?”

“An alliance, Master Grubb. We have many chimneys here at the Odditorium, all of which have not been swept in quite some time. Come to think of it, having a resident sweep on the premises
might not be a bad idea. Having a boy around who can read a bit and count higher than his fingers and toes might not be a bad idea, either. Therefore, I have a proposition for you: how would you
like to work here, Master Grubb?”

“
Here
, Mr. Grim?”

“Here at the Odditorium, Master Grubb. And in exchange for your services, you shall be given room and board and a small salary, which shall be deposited weekly in your name at the Central
Bank—less your pocket money, of course.”

“Pocket money?” I asked, amazed.

“But of course, lad. After all, a boy in London without pocket money—well, that simply won’t do, now, will it, Master Grubb?”

I couldn’t speak and just stood there, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

“There’s only one catch,” said Mr. Grim, and he squatted down so that our noses nearly touched. “You’re never to speak to anyone on the outside about what goes on
here.
Never
. Not a single word about the Odditorium ever. Do you understand me, lad?”

“Oh yes, sir, Mr. Grim,” I said, nodding. “You can count on me, sir.”

“Then again, you haven’t much of a choice, now, do you? For if you refuse and decide to go blabbing”—he shot a quick glance at the dollhouse—“well,
let’s just say Miss Gwendolyn won’t always be around to protect you.”

I swallowed hard, for the look in Alistair Grim’s eyes sent a chill down my spine unlike any other that day.

“What do you say, then?” he asked, his demeanor friendly again. “Do we have a deal, Master Grubb?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling. My fear was gone, and all I could do was marvel again at my good fortune.

“Good,” said Mr. Grim, offering me his hand. “Gentlemen’s shake on it.”

And so for the first time I shook hands with Alistair Grim. It was the first time I’d ever shaken hands with anybody. But I wonder now, had I known then what I was getting myself
into—samurai or no samurai—would I have tried again for the door?