give any who held it power over life and death. Many men have died searching for it.’
‘And because of it,’ Josie sighed, looking back to the journal.
It is agreed. We depart for Abyssinia on 20 July 1819. Corvis is generously funding the expedition. Chrimes complains about the heat before we have even embarked! Imagine: to find the Flower of Life. To have the power over life and death itself!
I am fortunate to have such good travelling companions. Corvis has a dark sense of humour but doesn’t let his wealth or high birth stop him from enjoying the company of commoners. Chrimes has been a dear friend for several years now . . .
Josie paused. They all sounded such good friends. What had gone wrong? She glanced down at an irregular-sized piece of paper. She pulled it out of the pile. It was a flyer advertising ‘Lorenzo’s Incredible Circus’. A tall ringmaster stood at one edge of the paper, half framing the list of acts. A lion pawed the air from a corner of the sheet.
‘Madame Lilly,’ she read aloud, ‘tells the fortunes of the brave. The Flying Gambinis, trapeze artists to royalty. Ulrico the Clown. Cardamom the Great, magician and conjurer . . .’
‘And Professor Necros,’ Alfie continued, ‘Communicator with the Spirit World, Master of the Ghostly . . .’
‘Uncle never told me he worked in a circus,’ Josie said, frowning. Part of his life had suddenly been revealed to her, a hidden part. She couldn’t understand why he had never told her about it. ‘Maybe that’s where he met Mother.’
‘Madame Lilly, this her, then?’ Alfie said. He sounded casual but Josie thought she caught a note of emotion in his voice. He touched the cameo picture of the fortune teller on the poster.
‘What d’you think?’
‘Dunno what to think really,’ he murmured. ‘Very beautiful . . .’
‘Cardamom didn’t tell me much about her. She was a fortune teller, a dancer, she loved life . . .’
‘There are many things that Cardamom didn’t tell anyone about,’ Gimlet said, drawn from the window by the conversation. ‘Many things he wanted to keep secret, buried. Too shameful to remember.’
‘Uncle would never do anything shameful,’ Josie said, folding her arms.
‘Not the Cardamom you knew, Josie, but he had his dark moments, his depressions when painful memories swamped him. From what I know, he started life humbly enough, trying to scrape a living in sideshows and funfairs. He was, by his own admission, a pretty poor conjurer.’
‘Well, he wasn’t when I knew him,’ muttered Josie, staring down at the journal again. How could Gimlet say such things? She’d known Cardamom most of her life, and, despite his moods, she’d loved him and trusted him. And he’d been the only family she had.
‘Blimey!’ Alfie said out loud, shoving a letter under Josie’s nose. She recognised the handwriting, and the address at the top.
Bluebell Terrace
7 July 1844
.
Mortlock, my dearest friend,
I write to you one last time for the sake of our friendship and all the difficulties we have been through together. If it is true that you possess the Amarant then I beg of you, destroy it. No good can come of it. I know the ill will you bear towards me and can understand, but it is the cursed flower that has brought this upon you, not me. If you cannot bring yourself to destroy it, then let me help you. We agreed many years ago that bringing the Amarant here would result in disaster. Can you not see what is happening?
.
Your ever-faithful friend,
Edwin
‘Mortlock had the Amarant,’ Josie said. The letter at home had called Cardamom a thief. Had he managed to take the flower from Mortlock?
‘Looks like Mortlock was up to no good with it,’ Alfie said, whipping the letter back. Josie flicked through the journal, looking for the same date as the letter.
‘There’s something here, written a few days before Mortlock sent that letter to Uncle accusing him of theft,’ Josie said, dragging her finger
‘And because of it,’ Josie sighed, looking back to the journal.
It is agreed. We depart for Abyssinia on 20 July 1819. Corvis is generously funding the expedition. Chrimes complains about the heat before we have even embarked! Imagine: to find the Flower of Life. To have the power over life and death itself!
I am fortunate to have such good travelling companions. Corvis has a dark sense of humour but doesn’t let his wealth or high birth stop him from enjoying the company of commoners. Chrimes has been a dear friend for several years now . . .
Josie paused. They all sounded such good friends. What had gone wrong? She glanced down at an irregular-sized piece of paper. She pulled it out of the pile. It was a flyer advertising ‘Lorenzo’s Incredible Circus’. A tall ringmaster stood at one edge of the paper, half framing the list of acts. A lion pawed the air from a corner of the sheet.
‘Madame Lilly,’ she read aloud, ‘tells the fortunes of the brave. The Flying Gambinis, trapeze artists to royalty. Ulrico the Clown. Cardamom the Great, magician and conjurer . . .’
‘And Professor Necros,’ Alfie continued, ‘Communicator with the Spirit World, Master of the Ghostly . . .’
‘Uncle never told me he worked in a circus,’ Josie said, frowning. Part of his life had suddenly been revealed to her, a hidden part. She couldn’t understand why he had never told her about it. ‘Maybe that’s where he met Mother.’
‘Madame Lilly, this her, then?’ Alfie said. He sounded casual but Josie thought she caught a note of emotion in his voice. He touched the cameo picture of the fortune teller on the poster.
‘What d’you think?’
‘Dunno what to think really,’ he murmured. ‘Very beautiful . . .’
‘Cardamom didn’t tell me much about her. She was a fortune teller, a dancer, she loved life . . .’
‘There are many things that Cardamom didn’t tell anyone about,’ Gimlet said, drawn from the window by the conversation. ‘Many things he wanted to keep secret, buried. Too shameful to remember.’
‘Uncle would never do anything shameful,’ Josie said, folding her arms.
‘Not the Cardamom you knew, Josie, but he had his dark moments, his depressions when painful memories swamped him. From what I know, he started life humbly enough, trying to scrape a living in sideshows and funfairs. He was, by his own admission, a pretty poor conjurer.’
‘Well, he wasn’t when I knew him,’ muttered Josie, staring down at the journal again. How could Gimlet say such things? She’d known Cardamom most of her life, and, despite his moods, she’d loved him and trusted him. And he’d been the only family she had.
‘Blimey!’ Alfie said out loud, shoving a letter under Josie’s nose. She recognised the handwriting, and the address at the top.
Bluebell Terrace
7 July 1844
.
Mortlock, my dearest friend,
I write to you one last time for the sake of our friendship and all the difficulties we have been through together. If it is true that you possess the Amarant then I beg of you, destroy it. No good can come of it. I know the ill will you bear towards me and can understand, but it is the cursed flower that has brought this upon you, not me. If you cannot bring yourself to destroy it, then let me help you. We agreed many years ago that bringing the Amarant here would result in disaster. Can you not see what is happening?
.
Your ever-faithful friend,
Edwin
‘Mortlock had the Amarant,’ Josie said. The letter at home had called Cardamom a thief. Had he managed to take the flower from Mortlock?
‘Looks like Mortlock was up to no good with it,’ Alfie said, whipping the letter back. Josie flicked through the journal, looking for the same date as the letter.
‘There’s something here, written a few days before Mortlock sent that letter to Uncle accusing him of theft,’ Josie said, dragging her finger
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