The Hunchback Assignments

1\ Abomination\ The large carriage rattled with grotesqueries—bones of cats and pigs strung up as wind chimes, bleached bear skulls dangling from wires, and three shrunken monkey heads mounted on posts. Their glass eyes stared out at the approaching winter. Bells that hung from reins tinkled, warning away wandering spirits. Four horses pulled the carriage, hip bones protruding from their bedraggled flesh, hides scarred by thousands of whippings. Huddled behind them in a thick, worn coat and muffler was a grizzled old man.\ The tall, slim gentleman watched the carriage approach down a rutted, moonlit road. A cold breath of wind tested his knee-length greatcoat, but he didn't shiver. His close-cropped hair, white since birth, glowed in the dull light. His sharp eyes scanned the carriage, from the shivering driver to the clicking bones, and finally rested on the words Merveilles et Mort, written in red across the carriage's side. They appeared and disappeared with the swinging of a lantern.\ Merveilles et Mort. Wonders and Death. He hoped that a wonder waited inside. He had spent his life and a good part of his fortune seeking out those with special talents. The reports about this particular sideshow traveling through Provence were extremely promising.\ At one side of the carriage a flag snapped in the wind, its skull and crossbones flashing. Pirates? An almost imperceptible smile crossed the gentleman's lips. These weren't pirates. Charlatans and gypsy souls, yes. But pirates? No. He had met real pirates on the open seas; had summarily put them to death.\ The gentleman held up his hand and the driver pulled on the reins. The horses slowed to a stop and snorted out frosty air, stomping their hooves.\ "I would like to see your display," the gentleman said. His French was perfect, his accent Parisian.\ "Oh, yes, yes, monsieur! I will be only too happy to show you." The old man set his whip into its holder and climbed down, babbling excitedly. "It is a marvelous collection! The greatest this side of the Nile. Balms to cure cholera. Elixirs to stave off death itself. I have a fine ruby necklace, straight from Cleopatra's tomb, that will make any arthritic condition vanish. And it will soften the skin, strengthen the bones—"\ "I'm not interested in trinkets or balms," the gentleman cut in. "I want to see your prize attraction."\ A door behind the bench slid open and a hag stuck her head out. Her eyes gleamed within a nest of wrinkles. She was a hundred years old if she was a day. "It is an expensive view," she rasped. "An extremely rare specimen."\ The gentleman opened a gloved hand. Two golden coins caught the moonlight. "I assume this will cover it."\ The hag nodded and waved a hand at the driver.\ "Yes, yes, monsieur," the driver said, palming the coins. "Of course. Come right this way."\ He led the gentleman to the rear door of the carriage. More bones were strung across the back, charms against death. The gentleman grinned. Only savages relied on such charms and magic to defeat the unknown. Learned men relied on logic.\ The old man took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door with a brassy click. He swung it open, and warm, moist air belched out. The gentleman didn't turn his nose from the rotten smell. He had encountered much worse on the Crimean battlefields.\ "Inside, that is where the prizes are!" The old driver tried to climb in, but the gentleman placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him out of the way.\ "I will enter alone."\ "But, monsieur, only I can explain the origins. The magic! The mystery! The restorative power of each item."\ "I don't need explanations."\ The driver nodded and the gentleman stepped up into the fetid compartment, stooping to keep from banging his head. The cramped space was poorly lit by one lantern swinging on a wire. In a moment his eyes had adjusted and the details became clear. There were canopic jars; glass bottles with hairless, pink creatures; tiny coffins marked with hieroglyphics; shrunken heads dangling from wires; and the taxidermied body of a half-cat, half-rabbit. He had seen such stuffed creatures before, but this was a very good representation—it didn't even look as though it had been stitched together. He moved through the collection quickly, ducking under the lantern. He squeezed between a stuffed snake and a giant bat with marbles for eyes.\ At the far end of the carriage was a cage draped in black cloth. He leaned in close. From behind the fabric he heard something wheezing. Without hesitation he pulled away the cover.\ Two eyes, one larger than the other, goggled up at him in fright. Above them was a tinge of red hair set on a rough-hewn, pockmarked skull. The gentleman flinched; he had been expecting something ugly but this was beyond his imagining. A true wretch of a creature crouched in the cage, pressing its back against the bars. It wore a jackal fur vest, which was ill-fitting due to the enormous hump on its back. Pity wormed its way into the gentleman's heart.\ The unfortunate monster couldn't be more than a year old. It was standing upright, but the small cage forced it to bend its neck, emphasizing its hump. On the bottom of the cage a plaque read l'enfant du monstre.\ The gentleman could not stop staring. The specimen's arms looked strong; its legs were unnaturally muscled, but bowed and crooked. Nature had been particularly cruel.\ The thing was shivering, but seemed to grow curious. It blinked, mewling softly. The gentleman peered at it impassively. This had been a wasted journey; three days' travel from London to Provence only to find a child imprisoned by its ugliness. His informant had spoken so highly of this prize, had said the creature was beyond description and value. Ah! That scoundrel would feel the lash of his anger. The gentleman had lost time, when he had none to lose. All the while England's enemies would be inching closer to their goals.\ He turned away, but the creature mewed again and whispered, "Puh-puh-ere?"\ Father? The gentleman stopped. The voice sounded so human, so mournful, and it struck a chord in the man's heart. Years ago he'd had a wife who died giving birth to their child. A boy, who had only lived long enough for his father to hold him. The gentleman swallowed. It was all in the past and best forgotten.\ Yet, he turned back to the creature. By its size and shape he decided it too was a boy. A monstrous, malformed boy. The man considered whether he had any food in his pockets. Foolishness. It was time to leave.

\ VOYA\ - Sarah Flowers\ Fans of the new Sherlock Holmes movie will find much to like in Slade's newest novel. Modo, a "monstrous, malformed boy" who also happens to be a shape-shifter, is rescued from a freak show and raised by the mysterious Mr. Socrates and the kind Mrs. Finchley. At fourteen, he is turned loose in Victorian London to fend for himself, and uses his unique skills to set up as a kind of private detective—a finder of lost things. Teaming up with another resourceful orphan, Octavia Milkweed, Modo must stop a pair of evil scientists who are plotting to destroy the British government by creating a powerful mechanized monster, using hundreds of kidnapped children and Queen Victoria's grandson, Prince Albert. Modo and Octavia are a delightful pair of protagonists, and their journeys through London, including its sewer system, are exciting and fast-paced. This title is an excellent addition to the steam-punk genre for younger readers. Reviewer: Sarah Flowers\ \ \ \ \ Publishers WeeklyCalling to mind elements of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Frankenstein, Slade (Jolted: Newton Starker's Rules for Survival) presents a thrilling tale of an unusual and talented young man caught between two idealistic, ruthless organizations. Fourteen-year-old hunchback Modo has been raised from infancy by Mr. Socrates to use his shape-shifting abilities in service to the Permanent Association, secretive defenders of the status quo in Slade's steampunk Victorian England. Opposing the Permanent Association is the Clockwork Guild, whose hubristic ambitions are untempered by mercy or decency. Together with fellow agent Octavia Milkweed, Modo must discover why the guild is kidnapping and brainwashing—or worse—children and the scions of the upper class. Although Modo is too innocent to truly understand his situation, Slade makes it clear that Mr. Socrates' exploitation of the teenage agents undermines their effectiveness and mirrors the willingness of the guild to treat people as tools. With its self-loathing hero and exploration of themes of identity and self, the novel is more than the straightforward adventure it may appear. Ages 12–up. (Sept.)\ \ \ School Library JournalGr 6–10—What do you get when you combine elements of Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen? You get this exciting steampunk adventure. And though Slade borrows from the classics, the story is original and a fun read. Modo, a young hunchback, is rescued from a traveling freak show by the mysterious Victorian Englishman, Mr. Socrates. He is raised in isolation and trained to master his extraordinary physical powers, which include the ability to alter his deformed features and take on any appearance. When he's 13, Mr. Socrates presses him into service on behalf of the Permanent Association, a secret group dedicated to protecting Great Britain, and the teen is plunged headfirst into a race to prevent the government's destruction. Modo, an innocent who is often shocked by the vulgarities of street life, is paired with fellow agent Octavia Milkweed, a rescued urchin whose street smarts complement his immense physical talents. She is at once a partner, a foil, and a possible love interest. The protagonists are likable, the villains are chilling, and the story is action packed. Forays into the raw effluence of London's sewer system provide just enough "ick" factor. And, Slade gets the Victorian setting just right.—Anthony C. Doyle, Livingston High School, CA\ \ \ \ \ Kirkus ReviewsSteampunk is hot, and here the tropes are further enlivened by literary shout-outs. Hunchbacked Modo (abandoned near Notre Dame as an infant) possesses the astounding ability to transform his appearance for a limited time. His mysterious benefactor serves England, but it is Modo and lovely fellow "agent" Octavia whose adventures save the day from mad Dr. Hyde's inventions and the plotting of the Clockwork Guild. Modo's palpable loneliness-his true face causes intense revulsion-evokes sympathy and makes his success that much more meaningful. Fast action carries the story through awkward dialogue; fortunately, doing and thinking rather than talking takes center stage. Regular glimpses from the villain's perspectives allows readers to fully appreciate Slade's inventive imagination-their technology involves robots, potions and imprisoned orphans. The escape of most of the baddies is almost welcome as it means they can all lock horns again, and the question of whether Modo will show Octavia his true self remains unanswered. An excellent start to a promising new series. (Fantasy. 12 & up)\ \