The Royal Library steps were bathed in sunlight during the early evening, which made them a popular spot for people to hang out and relax, chat and eat pizza slices from the nearby cart. All Eli could hear from every direction was excited talk about the Glorious Race of Magical Beasts. The race took place every year, and each time the buzz around it got louder and louder. It seemed that the entire country got swept away in racing mania. Everyone except Eli and his nana, that is. The Glorious Race of Magical Beasts had cost them too dearly. Eli’s parents would still both be here if it wasn’t for the race.

But there was no avoiding it in Harmonia, especially as the event started there. The route varied every year, but it traditionally began in Harmonia, and there were always three checkpoints and three rounds. Spectators could watch footage of the race on the big screens that were currently being erected in the square, across from the fountains. Some of the busier cafes and restaurants had them too.

As he made his way down the steps, Eli tried not to listen to the racing talk and to think instead of happy things, like books and stamps and tortoises. He was tired from his early start, and from being on his feet all day, but there was no time to rest because in the evenings he waited tables at his nana’s restaurant.

Eli didn’t mind the work, normally – he was proud of the restaurant and glad to be a part of it – but tonight he would have preferred a different job, one that didn’t involve being around a lot of people talking about the race. It was even worse when customers realised or remembered that he and his grandmother were Fleets – related to the famous Lara and Theo Fleet, who had won so many races in their time. Before it all went wrong. Then they wanted to speak to Eli about them, asking questions and reminiscing about their best racing moments and asking Eli if he’d ever had any ambitions to enter the race himself. People always seemed disappointed when he said no. Of course the race had seemed thrilling and exciting to him once when he’d been very small, and perhaps for the briefest time he’d had dreams of entering, but when his parents died he vowed he’d never go anywhere near it. Far better to live a life that was safe and sensible.

Eli straightened his shoulders and was hurrying across the square when Humphrey said, ‘Eli! It’s that boy. He’s watching you again.’

The tortoise’s voice appeared inside Eli’s head, and of course, no one else would have been able to hear him speak, even if they were nearby.

‘What? Where?’ Eli stopped and turned around, his eyes scanning the crowds. About a week ago, he’d noticed a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, with a mane of blond hair and a rainbow panther prowling around his feet. He was obviously a racer, with his big leather cuffs and an ostentatious studded belt and a holster carrying a pair of pistols. It wasn’t unusual for racers to arrive in Harmonia a week or two before the race began, but Eli had noticed the same boy several times now, and he always seemed to be watching him. He’d even popped up in the library. Eli had seen him hunched in a chair, pretending to read a book. It was obvious he was pretending because he barely glanced at the pages and once the book was even upside down. The volumes he selected didn’t seem likely to be ones he could possibly be interested in either. Certainly, Eli had never seen anyone absorbed by The Pampering and Perming of Pretty Pink Poodles for more than a few minutes, yet this boy sat with it for almost two hours. He made Eli uneasy, especially as there was something hard and cold in his gaze.

‘He’s gone now,’ Humphrey said. ‘But he was there. By the fountain.’

Eli didn’t doubt what Humphrey had seen, but there wasn’t much he could do about someone looking at him, even if the boy had still been there. He pushed the racer out of his mind and walked over to where the hot-air balloons were transporting people up to the Floating Quarter. There were three balloons today and they were beautiful, with their pale blue and cream stripes and smart wooden baskets.

The Floating Quarter was a popular spot at night, offering restaurants and spectacular sea and city views. It was already getting busy as Eli joined the queue. Fortunately, the balloons could carry fifty people at a time, so it wasn’t long before he was ushered on to one. The journey only took a few minutes and Eli always enjoyed standing by the side of the basket and looking down at the square as it dropped away. If he looked up he could see the underside of the Floating Quarter, a collection of floating wooden planks that formed the boardwalks. It had been his home since his parents died seven years ago, and sometimes it was almost hard to remember the cottage where he’d lived with them on the outskirts of Harmonia.

It had been a hot day, and the evening still felt warm, so a couple of balloon staff were walking around the basket handing out chilled towels for people to freshen up. The balloon was filled with guests dressed for dinner, all talking about the race and who they thought was going to enter and who might drop out at the first hurdle – and who might die.

People always seemed keen to speculate about who was going to die. Nobody had been killed last time, but it had been the first race in many years that had not had any fatalities. Eli got the sense that people were a bit disappointed by this – that it somehow made the race less thrilling if everyone survived and returned home safe to their families.

It was this sort of thing that made him want to disappear back into the library and not come out until the race was over. But it would go on for several weeks and Nana always said that it did no good, in the long run, to try to hide from difficult things. She was always so strong, and matter-of-fact, and no-nonsense, and this made Eli feel a tiny bit better and a tiny bit stronger himself. They would get through this year’s race, like they had all the others, and then everything could go back to normal.

The balloon soon arrived at the quarter, and suddenly the view switched to picturesque restaurants, splashing fountains and a network of wooden skywalk bridges. People began filing out of the basket, and Eli thrust away unhappy thoughts and unwelcome memories, deliberately straightening his shoulders the same way he’d seen Nana do.

‘Sometimes,’ she would say, ‘you just have to give yourself a stern talking-to and get on with things, whether you feel like it or not.’

Eli followed everyone on to the bridge, the wooden planks glowing golden as spilled honey in the evening sun. The most luxurious and prestigious restaurants formed a crescent around the hot-air balloons. Leading away from these were more skywalk bridges winding their way higher and higher into the sky. The further up you went, the quieter everything became.

Eli was glad to leave the hustle and bustle of the lower levels behind and climb the bridges to the top of the Floating Quarter. There were no fancy restaurants here, only cosy cafes and family-style food. Nana’s house – which was also her restaurant – was at the top of the sky street, surrounded by fireflies and stars. There wasn’t room for any tables inside, so they were placed on the decking outside, beneath strings of glowing lights.

An illuminated sign over the door read Nana’s Kitchen. The checked tablecloths were all slightly different sizes, and none of the cutlery matched, but people didn’t seem to mind that the restaurant was humble, or that it only served desserts day and night – in fact, that was part of the appeal. Customers often came to Nana’s for their pudding after eating their main meal in one of the other restaurants below.

Eli quickly removed Humphrey’s jumper and set him down to stump about on the decking. Then he went into the kitchen, where Nana was already hard at work, alongside two other chefs. She paused for a moment to greet Eli, pulling him in for a quick hug. As always, she smelled of milk chocolate and pancake mix. Eli still couldn’t quite get used to being almost as tall as her. He’d shot up during the last year and could now look Nana in the eye. Today, her grey hair was tucked neatly away beneath a chef’s hat, and she wore her usual red lipstick, which always matched her nails.

‘The penguins have just gone outside,’ she said, handing him a bunch of tiny aprons. ‘Take a cookie before you go, too,’ she added, thrusting one at him.

It was still warm from the oven and Eli took it with a grin. He was always rather proud of the fact that tragedy hadn’t left too much of a mark on his nana. She smiled often, laughed loudly and seemed to enjoy life about twice as much as the average person. People flocked to her restaurant because she made the best desserts in Harmonia, but also because Nana’s Kitchen was the only place in town with chocolate penguins for waiters.

They rushed up to him as soon as he went outside, honking, and flapping their...