Page 57 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
“Ah!” James scampered away to the living room next door, and then returned with the book in hand. “I couldn’t sleep. I never sleep much. So I was studying it.”
“What’d you find?” Henry asked.
“It wasn’t so much that I found anything,” James answered. “It was more just learning about the items that have been created over the years. I found your necklace.” He pointed at Magda. “And the chess piece. And the atlas that the letter said your mother made.”
Magda nodded. She had flipped through the book herself the previous evening, on the taxi ride from Frank’s house to her own. She had seen the latest entry in the book, with a sketch in black ink that looked like a rectangle with squiggles on it. And then a description in neat penmanship beneath that said, in a voice Magda recognised as her mother’s—AnAtlas of Lost Things:I want a map that will show mewhere magical things are, all the magical things the members of the Society don’t know about. I want the map to show me where the lost things are with a star, like hidden treasure.
Sitting in the back of the taxi, James and Henry next to her, Magda had appreciated how clever her mother had been in her choice of wording. Imelda had specifically requested a map to show her the items that members of the Societydidn’tknow about because she hadn’t wanted Frank to know about her pendant. Only things that no member of the Society knew about would have been visible on the map. It explained why Owen Maddox had said some items disappeared or didn’t appear on the map when he looked at it—as soon as Magda had seen the chess piece, as soon as she, as a member of the Society, became aware of it, it would no longer have appeared on the map Maddox had been carrying.
“So what’s next?” Henry asked again, and Magda sensed impatience there. Henry was a woman who wanted to be doing stuff, not just sitting around and talking.
Or maybe she’s impatient to use the magical items, is that it? Is this the side of her that Frank always resisted?
But Magda said none of this. She laid her hand gently on top of the book, the brown paper cover rough beneath her fingers.
“Like we discussed last night, we’re going to get the Society archive back from that man who attacked Frank,” she said, sure in her own mind. “That is why we exist, isn’t it? To stop people like that misusing the items.”
Henry nodded once, not in answer to the question Magda had asked, but approving of the plan of action.
“But to do that, we need to know where he is.” She looked at James. “So we follow James’s suggestion.” She took a mouthful of tea and then picked up the book. “Let’s see if it works for me.” She squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of the book in her hands. “I want a map to show me where the Impossible Box is.”
She opened her eyes and gasped as she saw a golden, sparkling haze form around the book.
“Oh my,” Henrietta murmured.
Magda dropped the book in shock, and James took a step away fromthe counter, uncrossing his arms. Magda watched in amazement as the cloud continued to sparkle, like glitter in sunlight, and then it dimmed and faded, and the book was just a book again.
“Well, I couldn’t say for certain,” Henry said. “But I think that means that you can use the book, Magda dear.”
“Just like your mum,” James noted.
Magda’s heart pounded. She glanced around expectantly but no magical map appeared out of thin air. In the world outside the kitchen window, sunlight crested over the roof of a nearby house and caught on the autumn leaves of the trees in the garden, shimmering gold and red like a hot fire.
Magda swallowed and sat down again, trying to regain her composure. She was aware of Henry watching her. “If the book does what Frank’s letter claims, we’ll soon have a map that will lead us straight to the Impossible Box,” she said. “Once we know where it is, we’ll go bring it back, whatever that takes.”
Henry nodded approvingly and Magda was encouraged by the other woman’s confidence. She didn’t feel nearly as confident as her words sounded.
“Now, that’s a lot of excitement already this morning,” she said. She looked at James. “Give me more of that scrambled egg while we wait, and we can talk about what to do with the book.”
“What to do with the book? What do you mean?” Henry asked, as James started spooning scrambled egg onto Magda’s plate.
“I’m not taking it with us. But we need to leave it somewhere safe.” Magda nodded to herself. “With someone we can trust.”
***
Magda had visited Will’s shop once before, several years earlier when she had found herself passing and had popped in to say hello. It was a place she remembered as being very much like Will—neat and tidy and a little stuffy, but not unfriendly. When she pushed through the door into the shop, Henry and James following behind her, she saw that it hadn’tchanged. It was a neat place, with rows of wristwatches and pocket watches in glass cases that formed three sides of a rectangle around the room. Old pocket watches hung in glass cases on one wall, like pictures in frames, and the floorboards beneath their feet were polished to a shine. There was a pleasant smell in the air, something like lavender, but beneath it was a stronger, tougher smell of oil and metal.
“One moment, please,” Will called from a room behind the shop.
Magda glanced at James, who was peering at the watches in the cabinet to the left, and then at Henry as she leaned against the doorframe, hands in her pockets. Then Magda heard footsteps, floorboards creaking, and Will appeared behind the counter, wearing a long brown work coat over his shirt and tie. He was smiling politely but his expression turned stony as he saw them.
“Magda,” he said. And then, his gaze moving past her and his eyes widening in surprise: “Henry!”
“Hello, William,” Henry replied. “It’s been a few years.”
Will’s gaze moved to the side of the room, where James stood.
“This is James Wei from Hong Kong,” Magda said. “James, this is Will Pinn, the fourth member of the Society.”
