Free Alfie Bloom and the Talisman Thief by Gabrielle Kent

With a flying bearskin rug, Orin was bound to be the most widely travelled person in the Middle Ages, but he couldn’t exactly tell Miss Reynard that. He promised to let Miss Reynard borrow some of the clothing for her history lessons and they continued up the stairs.
    The next room was so full that they had to squeeze themselves among tables and stone pedestals holding all manner of fantastic objects from around the world. Miss Reynard rushed from item to item with such excitement that she reminded Alfie of Madeleine. There was an ornate turban, a highly detailed coloured glass goblet, pearl and jewelled necklaces and rings, and a very long silk scarf embroidered with every animal Alfie could name – and lots he couldn’t.
    Under many of the objects were notes written in different languages. Miss Reynard was able to translate the ones in more recognizable languages such as French and German. “They’re thank-you notes,” she told Alfie. “This one, with the ruby ring, is from Charles VIII of France for healing sores on his legs. This one, with the painting of the hare, is from a German artist, thanking Orin for procuring rare coloured pigments for him.”
    â€œLook at this!” Alfie’s dad called out. They joined him as he stood gazing transfixed at a small silver sparrow on a marble plinth. Each of its feathers was finely engraved with tiny details that made it look extremely true to life.
    â€œThere’s a key,” said Amy, picking up a small metal object from beneath it. “Do you think it can be wound up?”
    Alfie found a tiny hole under one of the wings. He clicked the key into place and turned it, removing it when it could turn no more. They all watched the bird with baited breath.
    â€œIt blinked!” cried Alfie. The little bird’s head suddenly twitched from side to side and then it lifted its wing and groomed the feathers beneath. When it was satisfied, it straightened up, gave its tail feathers a little shake, and then opened its tiny beak to chirrup a beautiful melody.
    â€œ Amazing,” said Alfie’s dad as the bird hopped from foot to foot in time with its own tune. “How does it work?”
    Amy let out a little yelp as, without warning, the bird launched itself into the air, brushing her cheek with its wing tip as it whizzed past her and circled the room twice before coming back to rest on the plinth. There was a soft whirring noise as it clicked back into its original position and wound down. Alfie smiled to see the childlike wonder on his dad’s face.
    â€œOnly a true genius would be able to make something like this, Alfie. He or she is a better inventor than I could ever hope to be. There’s no note. I wonder if Orin built it?”
    â€œThere’s something engraved here,” said Alfie, squinting to make out two letters on one of the tail feathers. One was engraved over the other. “There’s a D … and the other is … yes, it’s an L.”
    â€œDL … DL…” his dad repeated. “Wait! Let me see that!” he almost knocked Alfie over in his haste to see the initials. His face went white and he staggered backwards. Alfie grabbed his dad’s arm as his legs appeared to give out.
    â€œI don’t believe it … I don’t believe it,” he muttered between deep breaths. “It can’t be.”
    â€œ Will, are you OK?” asked Miss Reynard, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “What is it?”
    â€œI have to check something.” He dashed to the spiral staircase. “Wait there! I’ll be back!” he called as he disappeared.
    â€œWhat’s got into Mr B?” asked Amy as his footsteps faded away below them.
    â€œHe usually gets like that when he suddenly thinks of a solution to something he’s been working on,” said Alfie, puzzled. “I’ve never seen him
quite
that excited before though.”
    They marvelled at