Alistair Grim's Odd Aquaticum by Greg Funaro Read Free Book Online

hearth. How many hours had I passed studying it since my arrival? So many that, when I closed my eyes, I could still see every curl of my mother’s hair beneath her hat—every stone in her necklace, every twist in her flowing black gown. And yet, now that I’d seen her in the Black Mirror, for the first time her expression in the portrait struck me as frightened—her eyes brimming with some terrible secret that drove her away from Alistair Grim.
    The lift arrived, startling me from my thoughts, and we all dropped down to the floor below and dashed into the Odditorium’s main gallery, where Father led us through a dizzying maze of magical objects—giant statues, piles of armor, cauldrons, goblets, and brooms—as well as towers of wooden crates, the tops of which vanished among the shadows near the ceiling. Many of the crates had been recently opened, their fantastical contents spilling out onto the floor in haphazard heaps of wonder.
    It was in one of these heaps that Father began searching through a wide assortment of chests, some of which were gilded and adorned with precious jewels. Finally, he settled on an old wooden box about the size of a breadbasket. Compared to all the other boxes, it wasn’t much to look at. Then again, if there was one thing I’d learned in my time at Alistair Grim’s, it was that the most powerful Odditoria were most often things that, on the surface at least, appeared to be ordinary.
    “You’re going to catch a demon with that box, aren’t you?” Lord Dreary said as we followed Father to the gallery’s main door.
    “An excellent deduction, old friend,” Father replied. “And so it should come as no surprise to you that this box is called just that: a demon catcher. Used for centuries by sorcerers to rid themselves of evil spirits and whatnot.”
    “The operative word being
rid
, Alistair!”
    “Well, either way, let’s just hope it works.”
    Lord Dreary gasped. “You mean you’ve never tried it?”
    Father shrugged and unbolted the door, and the three of us spilled out onto the reception hall’s upper landing. A curved staircase stretched down from either side of the landing to the floor below; and as we descended the stairs on the left, I was distracted for a moment by the life-size portrait of Father on the lower wall between the two staircases. It showed him holding a bright blue orb of animus, but I knew the portrait doubled as a secret panel that hid the entrance to the engine room behind it.
    A loud clanking sound echoed through the chamber. And had I not been so preoccupied with Father’s portrait, I might have seen the secret button he’d pressed to activate the large, chain-wrapped winch that was now rising up from the floor. I’d seen winches like it before at the coal mines back home, but still, my eyes grew wide in amazement. Was there no end to the secrets hidden within these walls?
    Father pressed a button next to the front door and it slid open. Outside, I could see the Odditorium’s front steps silhouetted against the soft red glow of the searchlight reflecting up from below.
    “The winch connects to an emergency escape ladder at the base of the front steps,” Father said, cranking away. “Once we’re safely on the ground, Lord Dreary, you’ll crank the ladder back up and close the front door. The Odditorium’s magic paint should repel any evil spirits that may try to sneak on board, but better safe than sorry.”
    Lord Dreary’s face dropped with fear, but Father just smiled at him and exited through the front door with the demon catcher tucked snugly under his arm.
    “Come along then, Grubb,” he called from the bottom of the steps.
    “You mean I’m going with you, sir?” I asked in amazement.
    “Of course,” Father said as he disappeared down the escape ladder. “Dangerous as it may be, this
is
your first quest for Odditoria.”
    My heart began to hammer—in all the excitement, it never once occurred to me that I would actually