Ned’s Circus of Marvels: The Complete Collection

Table of Contents

1  Cover

2  Title Page

3  Copyright

4  Contents

5  Ned’s Circus of Marvels Title Page Dedication Contents Prologue Chapter 1. A Birthday Wish Chapter 2. Surprise Chapter 3. The Greatest Show on Earth Chapter 4. Kitty Chapter 5. Lots & Lots of Marvels Chapter 6. Whiskers Chapter 7. The Present Chapter 8. The Flying Circus Chapter 9. Collision Course Chapter 10. Mystero the Magnificent Chapter 11. Behind the Veil Chapter 12. Inside the Box Chapter 13. Face-off Chapter 14. Darklings Chapter 15. Something in the Smoke Chapter 16. A Prisoner Chapter 17. Secrets and Lies Chapter 18. Awakenings Chapter 19. The Truth Chapter 20. The Amplification-Engine Chapter 21. French Steel Chapter 22. A Single Grain of Sand Chapter 23. Oublier and Co Chapter 24. So Jump! Chapter 25. Something in the Mirror Chapter 26. Mr Sar-adin Chapter 27. Edelweiss Chapter 28. St Clotilde’s Chapter 29. Mother’s Day Chapter 30. Farewell Chapter 31. Theron’s Keep Chapter 32. Falling Star Chapter 33. The Show Must Go On Chapter 34. On Your Marks, Get Set … Chapter 35. Annapurna Chapter 36. Cold-hearted Chapter 37. The Source Chapter 38. The Final Curtain Chapter 39. To Mend a Broken Heart Chapter 40. Home Epilogue Acknowledgements

6  Ned’s Circus of Marvels: The Gold Thief Title Page Dedication Contents Prologue 1. Christmas 2. Training 3. “TheeRe yoU arRe.” 4. Holiday 5. Blinking Mice 6. Home 7. Barking Dogs 8. One-way Ticket 9. Hide Park 10. New Recruit 11. Farewell 12. A World of Trouble 13. Madame O 14. Project Mercury 15. Under the Same Sky 16. The Guardian 17. Darklings 18. A Trip to the Museum 19. The Shadow 20. Breaking and Entering 21. Vault X 22. The Mirror in the Museum 23. City of Iron 24. The Central Intelligence 25. Barbarossa 26. All is Forgiven 27. He’s Back! 28. The Circus Travels 29. The Lady Beaumont 30. The Voice 31. A Search for Answers 32. City of Paper 33. The Secret in the Stone 34. The Darkening King 35. The Book of Aatol 36. Sleep Tight 37. Little Devils 38. At-lan 39. Find the Way 40. Eyes and Ears 41. “Tele-pot” 42. Control 43. Anger in the Big Top 44. Whispers from the Iron City 45. Cat Fight 46. Ding! Ding! Round Two 47. Happy Christmas 48. Tick, Tick, Tick … 49. … Tick, Tick, Tick 50. Drip, Drip, Drip 51. Healing 52. A Night of Terrors 53. The Viceroy of St Albertsburg 54. City of Glass 55. Friendly Talks? 56. Cups and Saucers 57. Allies and Enemies 58. Most Wanted 59. Escape 60. Out of the Frying Pan 61. Concentrate 62. An Unlikely Pair 63. And Into the Fire 64. Suits 65. Carrion 66. George the Mighty 67. True Potential 68. All Wrong 69. Old Friends, New Nightmares 70. Help 71. Mum and Dad 72. Into the Breach 73. Charge! 74. The Engine 75. After 76. Turning the Dial to 10 77. The Voice Epilogue Acknowledgements

7  Ned’s Circus of Marvels: The Darkening King Title Page Dedication Contents Prologue 1. Godshill 2. Afternoon Tea 3. The Door 4. Boiling 5. The Demon in the Tea Room 6. Grey-suits 7. Old Faces 8. The Butcher and the Hammer 9. The Nest 10. Tinks 11. Who? What? Why? 12. Little to Do about Nothing 13. Not Entirely Ideal 14. Not Entirely Alone 15. The Forest 16. We Have Company 17. Brother 18. The King in the Cave 19. Older than Old 20. The Stone Dragon 21. Trapped 22. Alliance 23. Brothers-in-arms 24. Headquarters 25. Mr Bear 26. A Brief Debrief 27. Father and Son 28. Clockwork Museum 29. Mr Cogsworth 30. A Decent Pub in Dublin 31. Tick-tock, the Mouse and the Clock 32. Trouble and Strife 33. Sharp Exit 34. No Exit 35. Dearly Departed 36. Best-made Plans 37. The Fey 38. The Liffey 39. Lemnus Gemfeather 40. The Glade Awakens 41. St Albertsburg 42. A Ball of Vines 43. Breaking and Entering 44. Magic Wakes 45. The Fallen 46. Boffins 47. Whiskers? 48. Mr Bear’s Insurance 49. Dad 50. Dinner for Two 51. Things That Go “Bump” in the Night 52. The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend 53. Bananas 54. Past and Present 55. Ready? 56. The Forest Darkens 57. Really Real 58. Artificial Intelligence 59. Time’s Up 60. The Un-Hidden 61. Wild Horses 62. The Night Before the Darkness 63. Barbarossa 64. “Good Luck” 65. Mr Rook 66. The Wall of Wood 67. The Central Intelligence 68. Charging into Darkness 69. Tick, Tock 70. Into the Fray 71. Mr Spider and Mr Fox 72. Tricks and Traps 73. Whiskers and the Scientist 74. The Eastern Tower 75. Together 76. Barba and the King 77. The End of Everything 78. Light and Dark 79. Presents 80. Mr Fox 81. George and the Jungle 82. Toys 83. Everywhere Acknowledgements

8  About the Author

9  Books by Justin Fisher

10  About the Publisher

GuideCoverContentsNed’s Circus of MarvelsNed’s Circus of Marvels: The Gold ThiefNed’s Circus of Marvels: The Darkening King

Copyright

Ned’s Circus of Marvels, Ned’s Circle of Marvels: The Gold Thief and Ned’s Circle of Marvels: The Darkening King first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016, 2017 and 2018

Published in this ebook pack edition in 2020

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers,

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Text copyright © Justin Fisher 2016, 2017 and 2018

Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016, 2017 and 2018

Cover illustrations copyright © Manuel Šumberac 2016, 2017 and 2018

Justin Fisher asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBNs: 9780008124533 (Ned’s Circus of Marvels), 9780008124557 (Ned’s Circle of Marvels: The Gold Thief) and 9780008124588 (Ned’s Circle of Marvels: The Darkening King)

Ebook Edition © June 2020 ISBN: 9780008402280

Version: 2020-03-12

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Ned’s Circus of Marvels

Ned’s Circus of Marvels: The Gold Thief

Ned’s Circus of Marvels: The Darkening King

Also By

About the Author

About the Author

For C, the glue that binds my pages

And for L, G and L, my tiny pots of Ink

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1. A Birthday Wish

Chapter 2. Surprise

Chapter 3. The Greatest Show on Earth

Chapter 4. Kitty

Chapter 5. Lots & Lots of Marvels

Chapter 6. Whiskers

Chapter 7. The Present

Chapter 8. The Flying Circus

Chapter 9. Collision Course

Chapter 10. Mystero the Magnificent

Chapter 11. Behind the Veil

Chapter 12. Inside the Box

Chapter 13. Face-off

Chapter 14. Darklings

Chapter 15. Something in the Smoke

Chapter 16. A Prisoner

Chapter 17. Secrets and Lies

Chapter 18. Awakenings

Chapter 19. The Truth

Chapter 20. The Amplification-Engine

Chapter 21. French Steel

Chapter 22. A Single Grain of Sand

Chapter 23. Oublier and Co

Chapter 24. So Jump!

Chapter 25. Something in the Mirror

Chapter 26. Mr Sar-adin

Chapter 27. Edelweiss

Chapter 28. St Clotilde’s

Chapter 29. Mother’s Day

Chapter 30. Farewell

Chapter 31. Theron’s Keep

Chapter 32. Falling Star

Chapter 33. The Show Must Go On

Chapter 34. On Your Marks, Get Set …

Chapter 35. Annapurna

Chapter 36. Cold-hearted

Chapter 37. The Source

Chapter 38. The Final Curtain

Chapter 39. To Mend a Broken Heart

Chapter 40. Home

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

PROLOGUE

The building work at Battersea Power Station had been abandoned without warning. ‘SITE UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT’ billboards had been hurriedly put up years ago, with a small logo stamped across their tops, ‘OUBLIER AND CO’. The army of cranes, bulldozers and diggers lay silenced, their only visitors an occasional seagull and deepening bouts of rust. It was late and London was asleep. As always, the River Thames flowed quietly by, disturbed only by the odd houseboat and the occasional taxi making a final drop off before heading home.

It started as it usually did. Deep in the bowels of the old power station, the air began to move. Behind a half-cracked mirror, water pipes trembled, inexplicably flowing backwards, inexplicably flowing at all. If anything could have lived down there, which it couldn’t, it would have run. Only the building’s four vast chimneys could see how the shadows turned and twisted, before revealing a mud-splattered, silver-haired nun.

Sister Clementine was tired, tired of running, tired of always being afraid. Ever since she’d agreed to carry the message, they’d had her scent. No matter how well she’d hidden, no matter what tricks she’d used, they’d always found her. Her chest was tight and her legs ached from the chase. She had to think fast; any minute now and they’d be on her. She couldn’t outrun them, especially not the little one. By the time she made it to the fence, they’d have her, and if they had her, there was no hope of keeping quiet. No one ever kept quiet.

Looking out towards the river, she saw a sliver of hope. If she could make the crane in time, she might get high enough to go unnoticed. She climbed the ladder quickly and quietly, her robes perfect cover under the pitch-black sky.

But Sister Clementine did not go unnoticed. Finally at the crane’s arm she slowed enough to hear them. The same two men that had tracked her since the beginning, one short and barrel-chested, the other impossibly tall. They were studying their new surroundings carefully. The shorter man sniffed at the air’s unique aroma, while the tall man’s pin-sharp eyes scanned the horizon. Their kind might usually have been nervous, afraid even of being on land owned by Oublier and Co. But not these men. It was not their job to fear, but to be feared. They were the things that went bump in the night.

In no time they had zeroed in on their target. They moved fast, the tall one climbing with all the skill of a spider while the other charged with the excitable brute strength of a predator nearing its prey.

Sister Clementine moved further down the crane arm as her assailants reached the top.

“Gimme the co-ordinates, Clementine. Jus’ two sets o’ numbers and you go free,” said the tall man, in a thick American accent.

Clementine’s foot slipped, finding only air instead of metal. There was nowhere else to run. The tall American pulled a revolver from his hip, aiming it squarely at the woman’s head.

“Don’t kill her, just wound her; she’s worth nothing if she can’t talk,” snarled the barrel, edging down the crane’s arm towards her.

The nun looked down at the void of black, before closing her eyes for one last prayer.

“He wants the child, Clementine,” said the American.

But the nun’s mind was already made up.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love …”

Where there is darkness, joy …”

“WHERE IS SHE?” barked the barrel, almost upon her now.

Sister Clementine opened her eyes and smiled.

“Go to hell.”

She stretched out her arms like wings and pushed hard on the crane beneath her, launching herself into the air. There was no hard crunch of concrete below, only a splash as she landed in the River Thames’s waters. The tall American waited, peering into the darkness, before firing a single perfect round.

“Did you get her?” asked the barrel.

“Have I eva missed?”

A Birthday Wish

“Hinks?” said Mr Wilkinson.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well done. A plus. Johnston?”

“Sir.”

“Not a bad B, Johnston. Widdlewort?”

“It’s Waddlesworth, sir.”

“Yes, yes of course it is. C again, Widdlewort.”

The subject didn’t matter. Ned Waddlesworth always got a C. Not a C plus or minus, nothing with any particular character, just your average, everyday C. He was an unremarkable-looking boy too, with light brownish sort of eyes, and hair that was neither long nor short, styled nor loose, brown nor blonde. His hair was, quite simply, there. Ned wasn’t tall or short, chunky or particularly thin. At school Ned wasn’t in the clever classes, nor did he slouch at the back. Ned, like his hair, was just: there.

Teachers barely noticed him arrive at his new schools, or leave again a few months later. He never got to try out for any of the teams and, until recently, was never around long enough to make any friends. Unnoticeable Ned slipped through the cracks, again and again and again.

His father, Terry Waddlesworth, had once been an engineer. He’d retired from that profession before Ned was born and now sold specialist screws for a company called Fidgit and Sons. “Best in the business”, according to Terry. The job had them move around the country often, sometimes with little or no warning, and was, as far as Ned was concerned, the reason for all his woes. But that wasn’t the only issue Ned had with his father. Terry Waddlesworth had a profound dislike for anything risky or “dangerous”, which meant he rarely left the house unless going to work. He was interested in only three things: amateur mechanics, watching quiz shows on the telly, and Ned’s safety. It did not make for an environment that let growing boys …‘grow’.

They lived at Number 222 Oak Tree Lane, in Grittlesby, a suburb south of London, famed for its lack of traffic, quiet streets and generally being entirely unremarkable. It was the longest they’d stayed in any one place though, and Ned was just happy to have finally managed to make some friends, Archie Hinks and George Johnston from across the road. Despite his father’s best efforts Ned was growing roots.

“So, last day of term,” said Archie as they all headed home from school.

“Yup,” agreed Ned happily.

“And it’s your birthday,” said George. “Major event, Ned, major event. We’ll need to meet up tomorrow for the ceremonial exchanging of presents, of course.”

It would be Ned’s first birthday with the added bonus of friends. The fact that they’d even thought of gifts came as a genuine shock.

“You got me presents? Actual presents?”

“Well, I wouldn’t get too excited. Arch got me batteries last year, wrapped up in old newspaper.”

“They still had a little juice left in them,” grinned Archie.

“Your dad got anything planned?”

Ned’s face darkened.

“My dad? Doubt it. He’s not great with stuff like that. Last year we stayed in watching cartoons. I mean, cartoons! We never go anywhere. It’s like I’m made of glass or something, like he thinks the world was made to break me.”

“Cheer up, Widdler, least he cares, right?” said George.

“I know, I know …” sighed Ned.

At Ned’s gate they said their goodbyes and agreed to meet up after lunch the following day.

Ned opened the door of Number 222 and headed for the kitchen, weighing up the choice between another one of his dad’s microwave meals, or a jam sandwich. The sandwich won.

“Hi, Dad,” he called as he passed the living room.

“And the answer is – Eidelweiss,” chimed the TV.

“Dad?”

“Ned, is that you?”

“No, Dad, it’s one of the millions of visitors you get every day.”

Terry Waddlesworth walked into the kitchen, wearing the kind of tank top you could only find in a charity shop and looking unusually dishevelled.

“Neddles, I was starting to get worried.”

“Oh come on Dad, you’ve got to stop. I sent you the obligatory ‘I’m alive’ text message fifteen minutes ago and I came straight home because of tonight …”

“Because of …?” Terry was now staring through the kitchen window, and out on to the street.

Ned’s heart sank. His dad was like a satellite link when it came to knowing where his son was, but remembering anything else was often problematic. He had a habit of getting … ‘distracted’.

“You didn’t forget … did you?”

“Forget what?” asked Terry, his focus now back in the room.

“The large pile of presents and the party you’ve planned, you know, the one OUTSIDE the house, FOR MY BIRTHDAY?” said Ned, now certain that there’d be neither.

Terry’s eyes started to go a little watery and he pulled Ned in for a large hug.

“You all right, Dad? You’re not thinking about her again, are you? You know it only makes you sad.”

“Not this time, Ned, I promise. She would have loved it though. Our little boy, thirteen years old. Who’d believe it?”

“We said we wouldn’t talk about her today, Dad … and I’m not a little boy, not any more!”

“So you keep telling me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just let me … be,” muttered Ned, through gritted teeth and a faceful of his dad’s shirt.

“I know.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“You can let go now.” And Ned didn’t just mean with his arms.

Ned’s dad released him at last. “I didn’t forget, son,” he said, producing an envelope and a badly wrapped present no bigger than the end of his thumb and handing them over.

Ned smiled, turning over the tiny package in his hands. “Please tell me this isn’t, like, really rare Lego. Because we’ve built just about everything you can with the stuff and I am seriously, like totally too old for it now.”

“No, Ned, it’s actually a bit rarer than that, but you’ll have to wait till tonight to open it. I do have a surprise for you though. We’re going to the circus. It’s on the green; the tickets are in the envelope.”

Ned would have loved the circus a few years ago, but he was thirteen now, and thirteen-year-olds had the internet, and cable TV and, more recently, friends. Still, any Waddlesworth outing outside the house was worth encouraging.

“Great … I love the circus,” he managed, with all the enthusiasm of a boy that still loves his father just a little bit more than the truth.

“Put them in your pocket, son. I’ve got a bit of a work crisis on. An old colleague of mine … she’s … she’s in a pickle, and I have to go and help her out, but I’ll be back later. We need to have ourselves a little talk before the show. Stay indoors till then, OK? You’ll love the circus, Ned. There’s nothing quite like it.”

Terry Waddlesworth didn’t usually mention “colleagues” and had never had a work crisis, at least not as far as Ned could remember. What worried him more were his dad’s shaking hands, as he went to pick up the keys.

“Dad, are you sure you’re OK? I hope this isn’t about moving again, because …”

But his father was already out the door, double-locking it behind him before marching off down the drive, and Ned was talking to himself.

Ned took his sandwich up to his room and looked around him. Everywhere a mess of abandoned projects lay scattered. Things he and his dad had started building, or were in the process of taking apart. The largest by far was a scale model of the solar system, every planet recreated from a mass of tiny metal parts and their corresponding screws. What made it different from more ordinary construction sets was that the planets actually orbited the sun, or at least they would, when Ned finally got round to finishing it. However, Ned’s new friends, all two of them, meant that he had less time for the compulsory Waddlesworth hobby, besides he was rarely challenged now by the things his dad wanted them to make. Plus he was starting to think that maybe building model sets with your dad was a little geeky anyway.

He didn’t have the heart to tell his dad though. It had always been their thing, but as Ned had got older he’d come to realise that Terry had a disproportionate obsession with it, as if any problem, any issue that life threw in their direction, might be answered by something found within the folds of some manual.