Isambard and the Emperor's Labyrinth: Young Isambard, #2

By Robert Guidi

BOOK 2 IN THE "YOUNG ISAMBARD" SERIES
 

A kidnapped hypnotist. A world threatened by anarchy. Cato is back.

When a powerful "mindformer" goes missing, Isambard knows that it can only be the work of one man - the race is on to stop Cato destroying Isambard's world.

Isambard and Millie track Cato across the frozen snowfields of Russia, facing wolves, armed guards and assassins. But Millie's newfound magical skills come at a cost, and it is Isambard who will be made to pay. 

Isambard must disrupt Cato's plan to spark revolution in London – but is there an even greater evil at work?

If you like magic, adventure and an epic battle between good and evil, then the Young Isambard series is for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Overspeed Publishing
• Release date: Jul 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9780995596832

Robert Guidi

Robert Guidi is a curious mix: half engineer, half storyteller. He studied Engineering (Mechanical, of course) at Manchester University where he wrote and staged 2 plays. On graduating he helped design a robotic vacuum cleaner at Dyson, tried writing for a couple of London magazines and failed to organise a charity cabaret. He then spent 6 years installing engine production lines for a car company before going solo as an engineering consultant and, latterly, landing a grown-up job in Mergers & Acquisitions. In his idle moments, Robert enjoys creating musical and visual doodles that, until now, have never seen the light of day. Say hi @RobJGuidi or email [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 1  

Looking at herself in the mirror, Meg scrubbed the stage make-up off her face with a solemn vigour whilst the cacophony of raucous conversation, raised voices and hearty applause drifted in from the Big-Top next door. A single candle burned on the dressing table between her and the fragment of mirror that rested upright, propped up between a few of her favourite books.

She became aware of a presence behind her. She used the mirror to glimpse the new arrival without turning. It was not someone she recognised.

Good evening. You must have said something special to get past Dennis on the door, she said, whilst smiling at the tabby cat that lay out across the dressing table.

I can be very persuasive when I need to be, the visitor replied, in a rather exotic French accent. Meg turned around to appraise the visitor fully for the first time and found herself looking at an elegantly dressed man a few years older than herself. She was struck at once by his penetrating gaze and his unusual jawline. Meg wondered how long it had been since she had received a gentleman caller after a performance.

Did you enjoy the show? she asked.

Very much so. I must say, I am a long-time admirer of yours. This place does not do justice to your skills, the Frenchman said, casting an eye around the shabby room.

You are too kind, she said, looking away.

I particularly admire the work that you have done for the ParaChemical Society.

Meg blinked and looked at the man again, before turning back to the mirror.

Only a very resourceful man could have learnt about that work, she said with her eyes downcast.

I can be very resourceful when I need to be, he smiled.

I’m sure you can sir, but, as I am sure you can imagine, I am afraid that I am not at liberty to discuss these services. Now, need I remind you that a gentleman would know when to leave a lady to maintain herself? Meg asked, returning to her cleaning routine.

Of course not. I have behaved quite outrageously. Please forgive me, the visitor said, looking away. However, he continued, I must beg your pardon once more as I feel under some obligation to press the point. I come here to ask for your assistance.

Meg stopped herself from looking round, instead concentrating on controlling her breathing and calming her pounding heart. She reached for the locket around her neck, and, calculating that the visitor would not be able to see her in the mirror, tugged the gold chain so that it snapped.

Go on, she said.

I am looking for a very particular kind of service and I believe you are one of the few people in the Western World who can provide it. Of course, you know to what I am referring.

Meg made an ambiguous kind of hum, in part to remain uncommitted, but also because she was concentrating hard on tying the locket around the cat’s neck.

Madame, I am willing to pay you a year’s wages for three weeks’ work, starting today.

I cannot take you up on any offer of work. I’m afraid I have my obligations here, Mr.... Sir.

"Non? Vous etes sur? But it would be, how do you say, the early Christmas for you and your son James?"

What do you know about James? Meg hissed, twisting in her seat to face the visitor.

I made it my business to meet him. A quite delightful boy. He taught me the Toss Ha’penny. Quite delightful.

It was then that Meg noticed a second man standing in the shadows, dressed in black, wearing a black fur hat.

You wouldn’t hurt my boy James.

Madame, I assure you, no harm will come to him. A year’s wages and three weeks’ work starting today. What do you make of my kind offer?

Satisfied that the locket was securely attached, Meg took a poisoned pellet from a snuffbox and fed it to the cat.

As you say, sir, you can be very persuasive when you need to be.

Chapter 2  

Millie’s heart was pounding as she approached the back door. She pushed and it opened soundlessly onto a deep, dark void. Stepping cautiously across the threshold, she scanned the familiar walls for signs. She peered at the certificates which hung there, inspecting each in turn. She rested thumb and forefinger on opposing corners, closed her eyes and concentrated. Esmerelda’s certificate was dry, but Madagascar’s required a neutralising quip. That done, she turned and made her way down the corridor, inspecting everything, always alert.

Millie peered into the shop, dark apart from the dim glow of moonlight from the front windows. She halted, sensing a disturbance – the black and white floor-tiles looked perfectly ordinary, but something gave her pause. She took a pebble from her pocket and tossed it into the centre of the room. It landed on the tiles, not with a tinkling bounce that she might have expected, but with an oily plop, sending concentric ripples out towards the walls.

The ripples outlined a kind of platform below the tiles – a shallow area like a submerged circular island in the middle of the room. Closing her eyes, she leapt across the water and was relieved to find her foot landed with a small splash on a solid platform just below the surface of the liquid floor.

Taking a deep breath, she looked around and checked the path again with another pebble-drop to confirm that the approach to the front door was solid. She scoured the familiar corners of the shop as she took tentative steps closer to her goal.

Something moved. She froze and stared into a particularly dark corner of the shop window. A pair of eyes stared back at her before disappearing into the midnight-blue liquid of floor-tiles. Millie swallowed hard and flashed a glance up to the front door, the goal of this test, before looking down again and scanning the surface, alert to any movement or disturbance. She began muttering a charm. The level of liquid began to sink, tiles hardening as they began to form the edges of a drained pond. There, between Millie and the shop window, a solid object was breaking through the falling waterline. As Millie sped up her chant and the water level continued to fall, she began to see that the solid object had a reptilian quality, a rough patterned hide. With an explosion of movement and a shower of water, the shape erupted into life and lunged at Millie, enormous jaws opening as it rose from the shallows.

Millie stood stock-still and closed her eyes as the apparition passed straight through her.

Millie clenched her jaw shut and breathed hard through her nose, trembling as she did so. She glanced up again at the door and, concentrating on her goal, took the last few steps towards it. She extended a hand to reach out and touch it.

But she didn’t notice the spider. Suspended from the ceiling by a near invisible gossamer thread, a spider hung, spinning slowly. As she stepped forward the spider brushed her nose.

Several gas-lamps came on at once.

Down came a spider, that sat down beside her.... and frightened poor Millie away, came Madagascar’s familiar voice from behind one of the glass counters.

I’m sorry, Millie said, brushing the spider away and taking a step back. I’m tired. I...

Millie, you did very well. That was a very advanced test, Esmerelda said, emerging from the shadows.

But you failed, Madagascar added.

Esmerelda flashed Madagascar a disapproving look.

You are learning fast. You have a very good instinct.

Instinct is one thing, sister. Control is quite another, Madagascar purred.

We’ll try again tomorrow, Millie, Esmerelda said, ignoring her sister. We’ll need to work on your Apparent Perception, but I couldn’t fault your Miasmarine Response.

Just then there was a strange noise at the door – an unusual scratching sound. Bastet, the Egyptian cat, leapt from Madagascar’s knee and scampered towards the door.

There must be something out there Madagascar said, standing from her chair with the help of her cane.

But the front door, sister? Most unusual, Esmeralda said moving cautiously. She established a Wall of Protection before edging the door open. All four of them stared into the space behind the door. Nothing.

It was Bastet who recognised the visitor first – after all, it was one of his own. The two cats greeted each other.

Ooh look. It’s Arthur, Meg’s cat, Esmerelda cooed, bending down.

He doesn’t look very well, Millie said.

No. I’m sure he’s not. But we’ll give him the antidote. He has been trained to come here when Meg gives him a certain kind of poison. He knows that he will find the antidote here. Rather harsh on the cat perhaps but he’ll feel good-as-new in a few moments.

Esmerelda picked Arthur up and gave him a cuddle before laying him down on the glass counter. They crowded around, peering at the exhausted cat. Bastet leapt up and joined them on the counter, equally curious.

Look Esmerelda, the locket, Madagascar said, touching the cat’s neck.

Esmeralda froze.

Meg must be in grave danger, she said looking at Madagascar. Whatever are we to do?

You must go, Madagascar replied. A pained look crossed Madagascar’s face.

But who will look after you?

I’ll go! Millie interjected. There was a pause.

You can’t send the girl, Madagascar objected, gripping the edge of a cabinet stacked with glass vials. She hasn’t completed her proof.

Oh come now, Madagascar, Esmerelda replied brightly. It’s just a trip across town. I’m sure she knows better that to use any of her half-cooked charms on the outside, don’t you dear? Esmerelda asked Millie.

Of course, Millie smiled.

There. Now, Meg is an old friend of ours from the ParaChemical Society. She is very gifted mindformer.

What’s a mindformer? Millie asked.

You see – she knows nothing, Madagascar hissed, turning her head.

She can control people minds, Esmerelda explained. Outsiders call her a hypnotist, but she is so much more than that. Of course, she fell on hard times when she...

Tsss, Madagascar hissed as she took a vial of white liquid from the cabinet.

Quite, we won’t go into that. Suffice it to say, she has since been forced to find employment at the Battersea Circus which I think says it all. I imagine she’ll have just finished her evening show. Why don’t you cut along there and see if you can’t find out what the matter is. But be careful – if Meg’s in danger, you could be too.

Madagascar was pouring some of the white liquid into a dish for Arthur.

You can tell Meg that Arthur will be as right as rain in no time, Esmerelda said as Millie left the room. And remember. No ParaChemistry!

Chapter 3  

The arm lay on the marble table. Lifeless. Bloodless. It had been sawn off at the elbow. The exposed flesh was raw and glistened in the candlelight. An incision had been made along the length of the arm and the flesh inside bulged where it had absorbed the pickling liquid.

William studied the limb intently, scanning as he drew, his eyes hardly leaving the subject. He had mixed feelings about his candle-lit visits to the mortuary. The anticipation, the initial nausea at the cloying smell of formaldehyde, the visceral sight of human flesh on the wooden block. And finally, the sense of awe as his artist’s eye explored and transposed onto paper the intricate structures he observed.

From behind him a hand reached out and gripped his shoulder. William jumped and twisted his head around in one terrified movement.

Ugh, you two gave me a fright. What are you doing here? William asked.

Lovely to see you too, Isambard joked.

You’re coming with us, Millie said, handing William his coat.

Chapter 4  

S o how are we going to get over to Battersea? William asked, pulling his coat collar up around his neck.

We’ll never get a carriage in this rain, Isambard said.

Even if we had the money, William added.

Come on - there’s nobody around – let’s take a shortcut, Millie said, looking up at the rain falling out of the moonless sky.

What kind of shortcut? William asked, incredulous.

Get up on the roof and I’ll show you.

They climbed the corner of an old bakery to get onto the first floor rooves then clambered higher by way of a derelict pigeon loft. They looked across London, which stretched out around them like a damp blanket, the occasional bright spot where humanity gathered.

So what’s all this about a short-cut, Millie? You thinking of going the Nine Elms way?

Not exactly. Watch this.

Millie made a gesture as if she were throwing a ball at the buildings opposite, although neither of the boys saw anything leaving her hand or heard anything landing. She gave a tug to an invisible cable that now hung between her and the distant building and gave Isambard a handful of nothing.

What’s this?

A mindrope, Millie replied with a mischievous smile.

Millie, I’m not having anything to do with all your magical nonsense. There’s nothing there so I can’t hold it. Get William to hold it, Isambard said.

Oh Sam, you are a stick-in-the-mud. Will? Millie asked of her brother, who gamely played along.

Right now, lift the rope up, nice and high, that’s right, Millie said, before putting her hands together above her head and leaping forwards into the chasm below.

Millie! Isambard yelled.

The two of them watched, dumbstruck, as Millie floated across the void.

This is odd, Sam, William pondered, still holding the mindrope above his head.

Most strange, Isambard agreed. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of dip in the rope, which is unusual across such a span.

There is no rope at all, Sam. I think that’s the unusual thing.

Isambard raised his eyebrows, conceding the point.

I see all that time you’ve been spending at the Candlewicks’ is beginning to rub off on you, Isambard called to Millie once she had landed safely on the roof of the building opposite.

Come on, your turn. Grab the rope and slide over here. I’m holding this end, Millie called.

The boys each looked at the other.

After you, William said.

I’m not touching that, Isambard replied, gesturing to the nothingness in front of them.

Give it here then, William said, peering over the roof-edge to the street 40 feet below.

Just grab the rope overhead and slide on over, Millie called through the rain.

With a flick of his eyebrows and a final glance at Isambard, William reached overhead and lifted his feet until he was dangling in the air.

Relax, William. You won’t go anywhere if you don’t relax, Millie said, beckoning expansively at her brother.

William began to edge forward, hesitantly at first, but more fluently by the time he’d reached the other side.

That was capital! Come on Isambard, William called from the safety of the roof opposite.

I’m just a bit concerned about the tensile strength of this spell, Millie. Is it going to hold my weight? Plus, it looks like you’re slightly uphill of me and I’m just not sure I understand...

Oh Isambard! Grab on and stop over-analysing. Hands up, that’s right, and grab hold! Millie called.

Isambard did as he was told until he was edging across the void between the two buildings.

You okay Isambard? Millie asked, trying not to join William in his fit of giggles.

You see, for example here, I’m clearly going uphill and I just don’t understand where the motive power is coming from. It’s.... it’s just not possible.

Isambard, if you don’t let the spell do the work, you’ll.....

Suddenly it was as if the magical rope turned to rubber and Isambard began to lurch slowly towards the ground.

Isambard, you’re slipping. You have to.... you have to relax and... and believe me, Isambard. I am the motive power. Come on!

Millie threw another line to Isambard, who reached out and grabbed at the air.

Grab the rope Isambard, William hooted, otherwise you’ll fall!

Isambard waved his hand through the air but found nothing there.

There is no rope! he called.

Grab the rope, Millie said with such conviction that Isambard looked straight back at her, closed his eyes and gripped his hands around the new rope, connecting with it and hauling hard. Millie was able to reel him in, but it was a lot more difficult now that he had sunk so far towards the ground.

Millie and William wrestled Isambard onto the rooftop next to them and brushed him down.

You made a bit of a meal of that, didn’t you Sam? smirked William.

Get off the two of you, Isambard said, swatting away their well-meaning hands. I’m just not comfortable breaking the laws of physics on a dark and moonless night. Well, at any time actually,

Millie looked across the city towards Battersea.

It’s a good couple of miles to the circus - are you two going to be ok?

Couldn’t be better, eh Sam? William grinned.

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THEY MADE QUICK PROGRESS, William experimenting with some aerobatics whilst Millie made sure Isambard was not too perplexed each time he thought of a new law of physics that they were breaking.

Look, there’s the Circus, in full swing, Millie called out, pointing across the grey expanse of industrial south London to a Big-Top surrounded by a small village of smaller tents.

They landed in a side-street and walked the last few hundred yards. Lanterns burned a yellow halo through the drizzle and the occasional carriage splashed noisily down the cobbled street next to them.

They came to a rough patch of common ground which had been colonised by circus tents, but there were few people around - the rain was keeping customers away and some stallholders at the edge of the compound were already packing up for the night. A tall, thin woman in a top hat and red jacket led a black-and-white striped horse across their path. A monkey scrambled up and down tent-poles in an attempt to escape its enraged owner. Strange shaped humans hovered in the dimly lit doorways of the tent marked Freak Show.

Ooh look. A fortune teller, William said, lurching off to one side. Come on.

William, get back here, Millie chided. We have to find Meg.

Looks like there’s a bit more life over there, Isambard said, pointing through a gap in the tents to a well-lit marquee next to the Big-Top. As they approached, flaming lanterns on sticks illuminated a gaudy sign that confirmed that they were in the right place - Mesmerising Meg appeared towards the bottom of the bill, between, The Astonishingly Strong Sultan of Persia, and Eduardo the Memory Man.

The glare of limelight from inside the marquee cast a puppet show of silhouettes onto the thick canvas walls. They could hear a tuba and a trumpet playing incidental music and the burble of a decent crowd chatting, arguing and shouting. A collection of drums and cymbals made the occasional crashing noise in time with the roars of laughter from the rowdy audience.

Looks like there’s a way in down there, William said, pointing to a porch at the side of the Big-Top. They picked their way across the muddy grass through the crowd towards the entrance.

But they soon changed direction. A man with arms as big as tree trunks was standing across the path, chatting to a wiry older chap perched on a barrel. Before they were spotted, Isambard and the others fell back and regrouped behind a nearby tent.

What do we do now? William asked.

I could go up and do the lost little niece trick, Millie suggested to the other two.

The boys shrugged.

Okay, William confirmed.

Right. Well, come on then. I’m not going on my own, Millie said. She pulled her hood off her long red hair and led the other two towards the doorman.

Kind sir. Please may my friends and I go through? We’ve come all the way from the Islington to see my Aunty on stage - Mesmerising Meg. We were terribly delayed on the way here.

You’ve missed it, the doorman replied gruffly.

What do you mean? She performs here.

I’m sure she does, but she ain’t on stage no more. And what’s on stage right now ain’t for your young eyes, the large one said, exchanging leery looks with his wiry mate.

Oh, well, I am sorry to have missed her. Have you any idea where she might be? Millie persevered.

She left about half-past eight with a fella - some bloke I ain’t never seen before.

Maybe it’s her new boyfriend, the wiry one sniggered.

What did he look like, this boyfriend? Isambard asked.

Well, I dunno, he was a pretty feeble looking bloke, but quite well turned out. Smart. Like he might have been military.

How old? Millie asked.

Oh I dunno, early sixties maybe? Had a weird look to his face.

His face?

Well, more like his jaw.

Is this the man you saw? William asked, producing a copy of his now famous sketch of Cato from a pocket.

Yeah, that’s the badger. I would recognise them piggy eyes anywhere.

Uncle Max, Millie said to William with a serious look.

William looked somewhat mystified, but Isambard stepped in.

Up to his old tricks again, Isambard said ruefully.

Anyway, time you lot cleared off. You should be in your beds, not hanging about here in the rain. Go on, get lost.

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SO IT LOOKS LIKE THIS is one of Cato’s dirty tricks, William said once they had retreated out of sight of the doorman.

That’s good to know, but the trail goes cold if we don’t have any clue where they’ve gone to, Millie added.

You’re right. We need to get inside, Isambard said.

What about down here? Millie asked, splashing down an alley between two tents.

The others followed but it was soon so dark they could hardly see where they were going.

I can’t see a thing, Millie. I’m not sure this was such a good idea, William moaned.