Once

Thirty One

"Where's this book, then?" Jax said, wheeling round as they all trooped in. "And this - prophecy thing. I want to see them."

It wasn't a demand for more proof, just genuine curiosity.

"They're upstairs," said Elle. Her voice was distant. Russell and David wheeled round on her at once.

"What is it?" Russell said urgently.

"Have you noticed something? Another sign?" David added.

Elle frowned to herself, then gave a vague shake of her head.

"No. Nothing like that. Sorry, I just felt - weird."

"Weird how?" Russell said. His voice still had that demanding note to it. "You have to tell us everything you're thinking, Elle. It's our only chance of being able to work anything out."

Tell them everything she was thinking? To use an expression of Russell's, Elle thought she'd rather eat a glass sandwich.

"It's nothing," she said, trying her best to sound convincing. "Let's just go see Mr Luzlic. He can probably explain it to all of you way better than I've been able to, anyway."

They headed up the stairs and along the corridor, the same route David and Elle had walked almost exactly a day ago. Only this time something was different. The corridor of the Archives seemed much too quiet, for one thing. And as they reached the office at the far end, Elle couldn't help but notice that there was no light coming from underneath the door.

"Mr Luzlic!" Jax called out chirpily. She knocked on the door.

There was no answer. She frowned at the others and knocked again. When there was still no answer she tried turning the handle.

"It's locked," she said.

"Maybe it's his day off," Maggie suggested. She sounded just on the edge of bored frustration.

Elle swallowed hard, doing her best not to panic. Her mouth felt insanely dry all of a sudden, and she still felt deathly cold. Without saying another word she turned and walked with hurried footsteps back along the corridor.

"Elle, wait!" Jax called, and the others raced to catch up to her.

At the entrance to the museum rooms was a small reception desk. It was supposed to be a sort of Tourist Information, but since no tourists ever came to Farway its only real purpose was to make sure no one stole anything from the museum. There was a bored-looking middle-aged woman behind it staring at a computer screen.

"Excuse me?" Elle said as she reached it. Her voice was almost breathless and she struggled to control it.

The woman raised two contemptuous eyes to her. Elle noticed her quickly minimise the screen of the package holiday site she'd been scrolling through.

"Yes?" she said. Her voice was clipped and snippy, full of a veiled warning that the last thing she needed today was to be hassled by a load of bored teenagers.

"We were looking for Mr Luzlic," Elle said. "Do you know when he'll be in?"

"Who?"

Elle felt the panic rising up in her again. She said:

"Mr Luzlic. The man in charge of the Archives. His office is just down there."

She indicated down the corridor. The woman stared at her blankly for a few moments, then her face cleared.

"Oh, him." She immediately relapsed into a sort of stunned boredom. "He hasn't come in yet."

"Yes, we know that," Elle said. "Is he usually in by now?"

"Usually."

Her responses were getting shorter. Elle sensed she did not have many questions left.

"Do you have any idea where he is? I mean, is it his day off or something?"

The woman ran a snake-like tongue over her lips in a move that oozed contempt. This would be a good job for Kaye, Elle found herself thinking. If the job at the machine parts firm ever fell through she could easily imagine her holding court behind this ridiculous little desk.

"The Archives are nothing to do with the museum. It's up to him what hours he sets. I really have no idea whether he'll be coming in today or not." She added, in what had to be the most brazen lie Elle had ever heard, "Sorry I can't be any more help."

She turned her head and went back to perusing flights to Alicante.

"Come on, Elle," Jax whispered into her ear. "Just leave it."

Elle stood staring at her for a second, brows lowered, silently fuming. Then she stormed through the door to the right and into the museum.

Russell, walking briskly to keep pace beside her, said:

"Do you think something's happened to him?"

Elle shook her head slightly, but said, "I don't know."

"Something to do with what's happening?" Russell suggested.

But Elle shook her head again, more vehemently this time.

"No, it's nothing to do with that. Well, I mean - it's not, like, the next story or anything. But I feel like if something has happened, it's something - magic."

Russell looked unsure, and said, "Maybe Maggie's right, though - maybe he's just off today or something -"

"I feel like he would have been here," Elle said. "He'd expect me to come and see him again. Anyway, you saw how that woman reacted when I asked about him. It was as if she didn't even know who he was."

"Maybe that's because she's a raging bitch," Russell pointed out.

"Or maybe it's the same thing that's happened to Letty's mum, and to Marigold Loxley's parents. Maybe he's sort of... fading away. Even when I reminded her who he was she clearly couldn't picture who I was even talking about."

Russell's lip was set in a firm line, as if he were trying to keep something to himself. When Elle noticed it he flushed slightly and said:

"I do believe you, Elle. Obviously I do. I just don't get how you can know it's got anything to do with the magic if he's not one of the stories coming true."

Elle stopped dead. They were in the last of the museum rooms by now. She pointed ahead of her and said, "Maybe that will convince you."

She was pointing to the glass case where, only yesterday, she and David had stared down at the old book of fairy tales and the crumbling piece of parchment beside it. The case was still there, just where it had been yesterday, only now it was completely empty.