Anachronist by Andrew Hastie

Author:Andrew Hastie [Hastie, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1916474713
Google: 8MzgAQAACAAJ
Publisher: Here Be Dragons Ltd
Published: 2017-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

30

Library

‘The first order of business,’ Methuselah announced over a lavish breakfast the next day, ‘is to complete the assessment of Josh’s range.’

They would begin each morning with a mission briefing in the Library, which had been annexed to the house and was only accessible via a portal at the back of the garden shed.

‘Why the shed?’ Josh asked Phileas as they walked down the garden path.

Phileas had been late down to breakfast and was holding half a bacon sandwich in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, alternating between the two as he tottered along the brick pathway. He was a couple of years older than Josh, who was sure he caught the distinctive whiff of booze on his breath.

‘It’s not really a shed,’ Phileas said before cramming in the last of the sandwich. ‘He calls it that to make it sound normal for the neighbours.’

From the outside, it looked every bit the kind of wooden shed that could be found at the bottom of any garden in England. Someone had chalked up some cricket stumps on one side of it, and there was the rusted iron ring of a netball hoop hanging redundantly above the door.

Methuselah, Caitlin and Lyra had already disappeared inside when Phileas and Josh reached it. The musty smell of oil and old grass cuttings engulfed Josh as he entered the dimly lit clutter.

‘Smells like a shed to me,’ Josh said to himself. He’d seen quite a few in his time.

‘Keep going,’ urged Phileas as he repositioned a hoe that had fallen from its peg.

Josh soon discovered that it was more like the entrance to a warehouse, albeit a long, thin corridor with what seemed an infinite number of shelves and cupboards. Along each side were hung every kind of garden tool imaginable, carefully placed on wooden pegs. They dated back hundreds of years. Josh picked up a scythe and examined the well-oiled blade.

‘Dad can’t help himself,’ Phileas said, taking the scythe back and hanging it on the wall. ‘Everyone in the Order is a bit of a collector — they tend to have their own personal storehouses.’

‘Why not just add the library to the house as another floor?’

‘It used to be. Mum had him move it out here a few years ago. She doesn’t like guests turning up unannounced and the library is a nexus for the Order; so any entrance to it is also an exit. She likes to know who’s coming.’ He pointed ahead of them. ‘Now here’s the portal.’

The door looked as if it has once been part of a castle. It was constructed from a grid of small wooden panels, metal studs had been driven through it at the cross sections to add strength. The lock was heavy, black iron with a brass key protruding from it.

‘Why does everything have to be so Gothic with you guys? And where exactly is this library?’ Josh asked when he realised the door was only leaning up against the wall rather than being part of it.

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