as though he’d barely slept a wink.
‘We could ask around,’ said Frank. ‘See if anyone spotted a mongrel boy here yesterday.’
‘That could take weeks,’ replied Hal. ‘Besides, we mustn’t stay here too long.’ His gaze flicked nervously to a pair of off-duty whitecoats moving through the crowds. People skipped out of their way as they passed.
A tiny glowing figure dropped out of the sky, landing lightly on Tabitha’s shoulder.
‘Any luck?’ asked Paddy.
Ty shuddered. ‘I don’t like this place, mister. They got fairy-catchers all over. Ones with bad breath and big nets. Lucky I’m so fast.’
‘What about Joseph?’ said Frank.
‘The docks go on for ever, mister. It’s like looking for a splinter in a galleon.’
‘So far so bad,’ said Paddy, as Ty darted down to hide in Tabitha’s coat pocket.
‘Then we’ll think of something else,’ snapped Tabitha. ‘There must be some other way to find Joseph. Imagine you were him. Where would you have gone?’ She concentrated, trying to put herself in the shoes of the tavern boy. She was fairly sure who he had been looking for, at least. Jeb the Snitch . Josephwas convinced that lying goblin knew something about his father.
So where would you find the Snitch in a city like Azurmouth?
It hit her like a lightning bolt.
An abandoned stall stood nearby, its blackboard advertising cockles at a half-ducat a pound. Tabitha leaped up onto the counter and stood on tiptoes, peering over the heads of the crowd.
‘Whoa, miss!’ yelped Ty, poking his head out from her coat.
‘What are you doing?’ hissed Hal. ‘You know there are butchers everywhere, don’t you?’
Tabitha ignored him. She saw a pair of children fighting with wooden swords, whilst a group of drunk men cheered them on, laughing, slamming tankards together and singing rude songs. One carried a placard with Lucky Leo for champion painted on it. She saw a group of fishermen arguing over a game of dice. An old woman bartering for a tin pot. A gaggle of children hovering suspiciously close to a fat fairy-catcher’s money bag. None of it helpful.
And then, finally, she saw what she was looking for.
She leaped to the cobblestones and set off, heading for a side street.
‘Wait for us, Tabs,’ came Paddy’s voice from behind. But Tabitha didn’t slow her pace. She weaved through traders, sailors and stevedores, catching up as fast as she could.
It was the wooden cage on wheels. The horse that pulled it was straining every muscle in its body to keep the load trundling over the cobblestones. A thin man in a robe and a turban walked alongside, leading the horse by a halter.
Up close, the griffin didn’t look much like the ones Newton had described in Tabitha’s old bedtime stories. The colours of its feathers were muted, and she could see its ribs, as though it hadn’t been fed properly. Its eyes were dull and rheumy, its beak blunted and battered. And those great wings were tied to its body, far too tight. There was a small wooden board attached to the cage with a name painted on it: nell.
It seemed like Nell wasn’t enjoying Azurmouth any more than Tabitha was.
‘I don’t like this, miss,’ murmured Ty, from inside Tabitha’s pocket.
‘Just keep your head down.’ She outpaced the man in the turban, planting herself firmly in the way. ‘Excuse me.’
The man scowled and brought the horse to a halt.Inside the cage, Nell the griffin turned to look at Tabitha, and blinked.
‘What do you want?’ barked the man. He had an accent Tabitha couldn’t place. ‘I am in a hurry.’
Tabitha swallowed. ‘I was just wondering … You have a griffin there, so I thought maybe you might know something about the griffin bile trade?’
‘Why do you ask?’
Hal and the Bootle twins had caught up now, but they were hanging back, waiting to see what would happen. Frank raised an eyebrow at Tabitha, and she put up a hand to tell him she knew what she was doing.
Griffin bile. Back
‘We could ask around,’ said Frank. ‘See if anyone spotted a mongrel boy here yesterday.’
‘That could take weeks,’ replied Hal. ‘Besides, we mustn’t stay here too long.’ His gaze flicked nervously to a pair of off-duty whitecoats moving through the crowds. People skipped out of their way as they passed.
A tiny glowing figure dropped out of the sky, landing lightly on Tabitha’s shoulder.
‘Any luck?’ asked Paddy.
Ty shuddered. ‘I don’t like this place, mister. They got fairy-catchers all over. Ones with bad breath and big nets. Lucky I’m so fast.’
‘What about Joseph?’ said Frank.
‘The docks go on for ever, mister. It’s like looking for a splinter in a galleon.’
‘So far so bad,’ said Paddy, as Ty darted down to hide in Tabitha’s coat pocket.
‘Then we’ll think of something else,’ snapped Tabitha. ‘There must be some other way to find Joseph. Imagine you were him. Where would you have gone?’ She concentrated, trying to put herself in the shoes of the tavern boy. She was fairly sure who he had been looking for, at least. Jeb the Snitch . Josephwas convinced that lying goblin knew something about his father.
So where would you find the Snitch in a city like Azurmouth?
It hit her like a lightning bolt.
An abandoned stall stood nearby, its blackboard advertising cockles at a half-ducat a pound. Tabitha leaped up onto the counter and stood on tiptoes, peering over the heads of the crowd.
‘Whoa, miss!’ yelped Ty, poking his head out from her coat.
‘What are you doing?’ hissed Hal. ‘You know there are butchers everywhere, don’t you?’
Tabitha ignored him. She saw a pair of children fighting with wooden swords, whilst a group of drunk men cheered them on, laughing, slamming tankards together and singing rude songs. One carried a placard with Lucky Leo for champion painted on it. She saw a group of fishermen arguing over a game of dice. An old woman bartering for a tin pot. A gaggle of children hovering suspiciously close to a fat fairy-catcher’s money bag. None of it helpful.
And then, finally, she saw what she was looking for.
She leaped to the cobblestones and set off, heading for a side street.
‘Wait for us, Tabs,’ came Paddy’s voice from behind. But Tabitha didn’t slow her pace. She weaved through traders, sailors and stevedores, catching up as fast as she could.
It was the wooden cage on wheels. The horse that pulled it was straining every muscle in its body to keep the load trundling over the cobblestones. A thin man in a robe and a turban walked alongside, leading the horse by a halter.
Up close, the griffin didn’t look much like the ones Newton had described in Tabitha’s old bedtime stories. The colours of its feathers were muted, and she could see its ribs, as though it hadn’t been fed properly. Its eyes were dull and rheumy, its beak blunted and battered. And those great wings were tied to its body, far too tight. There was a small wooden board attached to the cage with a name painted on it: nell.
It seemed like Nell wasn’t enjoying Azurmouth any more than Tabitha was.
‘I don’t like this, miss,’ murmured Ty, from inside Tabitha’s pocket.
‘Just keep your head down.’ She outpaced the man in the turban, planting herself firmly in the way. ‘Excuse me.’
The man scowled and brought the horse to a halt.Inside the cage, Nell the griffin turned to look at Tabitha, and blinked.
‘What do you want?’ barked the man. He had an accent Tabitha couldn’t place. ‘I am in a hurry.’
Tabitha swallowed. ‘I was just wondering … You have a griffin there, so I thought maybe you might know something about the griffin bile trade?’
‘Why do you ask?’
Hal and the Bootle twins had caught up now, but they were hanging back, waiting to see what would happen. Frank raised an eyebrow at Tabitha, and she put up a hand to tell him she knew what she was doing.
Griffin bile. Back
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