Twelve-year-old Carmen has a secret: she can talk to her cat Grim. But the powerful Brotherhood has banned pets, and the penalty is death.
Ward is the most wanted boy in the world. The only thing standing between him and the hangman's noose is maste...
It took a moment for Ward to realise what he was talking about. Then he removed the toy from the bag and put it on Nick's desk.
Nick didn't touch it. He just gazed at it, stroking his stubbly chin.
"How did you know how to wind it up?" Ward said.
"It's not the first I've seen. Though it's the cleverest. Where did you get it?"
Ward told him about the visit to Sam Sung's. About the man and the girl.
Nick leaned back in his chair.
"What is it?" Ward said. "I mean – what kind of creature?"
"What do you think it is?"
"Something made-up, maybe. Like a dragon, you know? Or a rhinoceros."
"It could well be a mythical creature," Nick said. He ran a finger up its back, from tail to head, gazing into its face – the ludicrous nose and flapping ears and tiny but somehow intelligent eyes – until his finger came to rest beside the mouth. "It's these horns that interest me," he said. "They're made of different stuff to the rest."
"Bone?"
"No, real horn I think. Very rare. The animals it came from died out centuries ago. It's called avory. I'm surprised the clerk at Sam Sung's didn't recognise it."
The room went silent but for the ticking of a tempus on a bureau in a dark corner. Beside the tempus stood a small framed argotype of a young woman who looked somehow familiar.
"It makes sense," Nick said. "The Diphthera does refer to it as a horn."
Ward's attention was snapped away from the argotype. Diphthera. Mildew had mentioned it only the night before. Only she had called it the dipstick.
"The Dipthera mentions a horn called the Oliphant," Nick said, "which is said to have the power to wake the Sleepers."
Mildew had said that the Sleepers would be woken, but hadn't told him how. There was something familiar about that word too. Oliphant. He was certain he had heard it somewhere.
Nick went on. "I have a theory, that the Oliphant isn't a horn, but is made of horn. For centuries people have been searching for some kind of trumpet – but what if it's something else altogether?"
"If these are avory," Ward said, pointing at the creature's horns, "then perhaps -"
"- he has more of it," Nick finished. He leaned back. "This is you task. I want you to find out where he got it from."
"Why me?"
"Why not you? I told you your job would be interesting. Now, Mildew can help you, but otherwise keep this between us." He glanced at the toy. "If the Brotherhood got wind that we were actually looking for the Oliphant..."
"But isn't it all just a story?"
"Nothing is just a story. Even that silly prophecy about your foot came from something. Every good lie starts with the truth." Nick looked up at the map of Bareheep, seeming to become lost in it. Then his eyes returned to Ward. "I don't want it for myself. Let's make that clear. The Snappers of the world would pay a fortune to own it. Then they'd lock it away in a box." He snorted. "The Brotherhood... well they'd destroy it of course. Not because they believe the stories – I doubt any of them do these days – but because it might inspire people. If you thought the world was going to end tomorrow, who knows what crazy thing you might do? The Brotherhood fear losing control more than anything. An uprising. Revolution."
"So what do you want it for?" Ward said.
"Isn't it obvious?" Nick said. "I want to wake theSleepers."
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