Jem's Journey (A Wonderland Novella) (The Wonderland Series Book 6) by Irina Shapiro

Author:Irina Shapiro [Shapiro, Irina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Merlin Press LLC
Published: 2016-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

The following morning found Jem and Alina making their way to St. Paul’s Cathedral. As it turned out, Hank Sorrell had been right, and St. Paul’s was the place to be. The building itself was still under construction, and had been since the old cathedral had been destroyed by the Great Fire, but that didn’t stop Londoners from congregating in the churchyard. The grounds of St. Paul’s had been a hub for the purveyors of books and writing materials since Tudor times, and the fire had done little to slow down trade. The churchyard was a sea of stalls, some clinging to the sides of the building and even its doors. The trade spilled out onto the adjoining streets, which were lined with shops selling anything from quills and ink to the latest plays and religious tracts. Many people who came to browse the merchandise were not even literate or had any interest in the arts, but St. Paul’s was the place to be if you wanted to hear the latest news, search for employment, or simply socialize for a bit.

Jem stopped at the entrance of the churchyard, taking in the scene before him. He liked the colorful awnings that kept the books from getting wet should it rain, and kept the hot sun off the backs of the sellers. Unlike most markets, this one didn’t reek of raw meat, rotting vegetables, or livestock. Instead, the air was permeated with the woodsy smell of paper and tang of leather used to bind the volumes. Jem stopped at one stall and reverently touched a volume of poetry bound in the finest calfskin. The embossed gold lettering was fanciful, and the pages still smelled of fresh ink.

“Are you buying or just drooling?” the proprietor demanded as he stared Jem into returning the book and walking away. He would have loved to buy the book. There was luxury in owning books, and hope. There were poems for every mood and every occasion, and Jem wished that he could lie in bed with Alina and read some to her by candlelight. The notion seemed awfully romantic, but he couldn’t spare the coin on such frivolity, not when they needed to eat. But he would buy Alina a book of poetry one day.

They walked from stall to stall, talking to anyone who would take the time to talk to them, and asking about possible employment opportunities. Jem had spoken to a young man who’d come to St. Paul’s to purchase some ink and quills. He was employed as a law clerk, but the firm he worked for was very small and not looking to hire anyone else. As a matter of fact, the young man was the only employee.

It seemed that no one had leads that were of any use.

“Ye come back tomorrow, and the day after, young Jem,” one kindly woman told them. “There’s somethin’ new every day; that’s the beauty o’ this place. Ye just have to be at the right place at the right time, don’t ye? Why, look at me.

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