by Jenny Nimmo
"It's here!" Eustacia kicked at the bag lying at her feet. "Aunt Lucretia kindly packed it for you."
"But . . . but . . . I've got work to put in it," Charlie said desperately
"Hurry up, then." His great-aunt gave a huge, disgruntled sigh.
Charlie seized his bag and rushed up to the dormitory Lifting the edge of the mattress, he felt beneath it. The wand wasn't there. With increasing desperation, he lifted both ends and both sides of the mattress. Eventually he pushed it right off the bed. The wand was gone.
Charlie hauled the mattress back into place and tidied the covers. The lurching feeling in his stomach grew worse.
"What on earth have you been doing?" Eustacia demanded when Charlie finally dragged his bag down to the hall again.
"I couldn't find it," Charlie said miserably "My work, that is."
"Tsk! I can't wait any longer." His great-aunt consulted her watch. "I told Venetia I'd be back by two. Come along and be quick about it."
Weedon, who had been lurking by the main door, said, "Are we ready then? One, two, three."
Great-aunt Eustacia tut-tutted impatiently as Weedon lifted a bunch of keys that hung by a chain from his belt. He selected a huge iron key fitted it into the lock, then drew back two long bolts. The doors swung open.
"Madame," said Weedon, bowing his head.
"Enough of that," snapped Eustacia.
As Charlie followed her out, he noticed Billy Raven's suitcase standing in a corner of the hall. So he was still in the academy Could it be that he was being whisked away before he could take a closer look at the de Greys?
Eustacia's black car was badly parked beside the swan f ountain. As soon as Charlie had climbed into the backseat, she was off, cutting corners, bumping over curbs, rattling the wrong way down one-way streets, honking at people on pedestrian crossings, dangerously overtaking cyclists, exceeding the speed limit, and narrowly missing parked cars (no, make that, hitting three sideview mirrors).
To Charlie's dismay Eustacia drove to Darkly Wynd, a grim alley where his three great-aunts lived in adjoining houses, all numbered thirteen. The third house was covered in scaffolding, but behind the pattern of planks and steel, a blackened, roofless building could be glimpsed — all that remained of Great-aunt Venetia's home.
"Take a good look, Charlie," said Eustacia, screeching to a halt outside the middle house. "You're responsible for that ruin."
"Not exactly," Charlie objected.
"Not in the strictest sense," his great-aunt conceded, "but you were with my fiendish brother when he did this, egging him on, no doubt."
"What did you expect him to do?" said Charlie defiantly “unt Venetia tried to kill Miss Ingledew."
Eustacia opened her door and swung her legs onto the pavement. "Get out," she snarled, slamming the door.
Charlie was only too happy to oblige. He shuffled out of the car, dragging his bag behind him.
"Now get going," said Eustacia, pointing down the alley "You've got legs. You can walk home."
Charlie turned and made a run for the alley He didn't bother to thank his great-aunt for bringing him halfway home. But when he heard her front door slam shut, he stopped and looked back at the ruined house. He remembered the piano that had been revealed at the very top, when the wall of the burning building fell away and he recalled the instrument's terrible fall, the eerie tune it had played when it crashed onto the basement steps and broke into a thousand pieces.
Who had played that piano, hidden in the attic of Aunt Venetia's house? Was it Lyell Bone, his father, imprisoned, hypnotized? And if it were, where was he now?
"Come back, Dad!" Charlie's whisper echoed in the empty alley "Please try."
While Charlie made his way home, Billy Raven was eating his first meal with Usher and Florence de Grey at the academy They would rather Billy use their first names, Florence told him, as they felt it was too late for them to be called Mom and Dad. They would never get used to it. Billy had been looking forward to saying "Mom" to someone, but he decided to make the best of it.
The Bloors' dining room was two doors down from Dr. Bloor's office in the west wing. It was a narrow room with a long window overlooking the garden. The walls were covered in red-and-gold-striped paper, and the ceiling was so high that Billy could barely make out the strange shapes surrounding the light fixture. He thought they might be gargoyles.
A chandelier hung above the oval mahogany table, and although it was a warm day a fire burned behind the grate of a dark marble fireplace. Even in summer, Mr. Ezekiel wrapped himself in a woolen blanket. He was old and cold right through to his soul.
Today the old man sat at the head of the table, with his back to the window He chewed with his mouth open, and sometimes bits of food fell into his lap. At the other end of the table, Dr. Bloor kept up a loud nonstop conversation with the de Greys, in an effort to divert attention from his grandfather's unpleasant eating habits.
Billy was squeezed between the matron and Manfred, facing his parents-to-be. The steaming food on his plate had fogged up his glasses, and when he attempted to wipe them with his napkin, the matron hissed, "Handkerchief!"
Billy didn't have a handkerchief. He blinked at the oversize dishes piled with meat and vegetables. The Bloors were obviously trying to impress their visitors. Billy grew bored with the dreary conversa tion. He cast furtive looks across the table at his new "mother," and she returned his gaze with quick, toothy smiles that never succeeded in crinkling her eyes.
Smiling was too much of a struggle for Mr. de Grey He could manage only a lopsided smirk. Billy wondered if he were a disappointment to his new "father." Perhaps this morose-looking man had hoped for a boy with shiny brown hair and a healthy complexion, a boy with ordinary eyes who didn't need to wear glasses.
If it were true that the de Greys had always wanted to adopt a child, as they said, then why had they only just now got around to it? And why hadn't it occurred to the Bloors before that Billy would be a suitable candidate?
"Eat up, Billy," said Lucretia Yewbeam. "We want our dessert."
Billy stuffed another piece of potato into his mouth and tried to swallow it. There seemed to be a wall inside his stomach that wouldn't let the food go down. He gave up and laid his knife and fork neatly across his plate.
The matron gave a sigh and removed his plate. "He's excited," she told the de Greys. "Give him an egg tonight. He loves eggs."
Billy wondered what could have made the matron say such a thing. How did she know what he liked? They had never even sat at the same table.
Lucretia continued clearing the plates, and there was a murmur of pleasure as Mr. Weedon appeared with a large chocolate meringue pie. Billy loved chocolate, but he couldn't eat the pie. Not a bite. He gazed at the large portion the matron had plunked in front of him. He wished he could give it to Rembrandt, but he didn't dare mention the rat. He wasn't supposed to have one. The Bloors would have killed it.
The matron removed Billy's untouched pie with a look of irritation. And then the table was completely cleared. People got up and sat down while Billy stayed where he was, the wall in his stomach getting heavier by the minute.
Mrs. de Grey put a gray bag on the table. She drew out three sheets of paper and laid them before Billy.
"Now for your oath, Billy" said Dr. Bloor in a solemn tone.
"Oath?" said Billy weakly
"Indeed," boomed Dr. Bloor. "Adoptions don't just happen. They have to be arranged. Promises must be made."
Ezekiel leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fists bunched into his cheeks. "Mrs. de Grey is an oath-keeper, Billy Know what that is?"
Billy shook his head.
"She keeps the papers!" Ezekiel chortled unpleasantly "Before you go to this nice new home of yours, you must sign an oath to do certain things that are spelled out on those forms in front of you. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Check the boxes marked ‘Yes' and sign your name at the bottom," said Mrs. de Grey in a businesslike tone. With a long fingernail, she touched a dotted line at the bottom of one of the forms, and then she remembered to smile.
"Do I have to?" Billy asked boldly
"If you want to be adopted," said Manfred, his dark eyes fixed on Billy's face.
Mrs. de Grey handed Billy a pen and he began to read the first form.
NO YES
¡ ¡ 1 . I PROMISE ALWAYS TO TELL THE TRUTH.
¡ ¡ 2 . I PROMISE TO BE SILENT AFTER SEVEN O 'CLOCK (MY PARENTS
NEED TEN HOURS' SLEEP).
¡ ¡ 3 . I PROMISE TO WEAR THE CLOTHES CHOSEN FOR ME (AND
VERY NICE THEY ARE, TOO).
¡ ¡ 4. I PROMISE NEVER TO ASK FOR FOOD (BECAUSE I WILL BE
GIVEN PLENTY).
¡ ¡ 5. I PROMISE NEVER TO DISCUSS WITH OTHER CHILDREN WHAT
OCCURS IN THE PASSING HOUSE.
¡ ¡ 6. I PROMISE TO ANSWER TRUTHFULLY ANY QUESTIONS
CONCERNING THE CHILDREN OF THE RED KING,
ESPECIALLY CHARLIE BONE.
Billy looked up. "Why?" he asked. "Why do I have to answer questions about Charlie, specifically?"
"It's a condition, Billy," said Dr. Bloor. "Check the box."
Billy checked it.
no yes
¡ ¡ 7. I PROMISE TO BATHE ON FRIDAY, SATURDAY, AND SUNDAY.
"You don't have to read the whole list," said Mrs. de Grey "Just check off the boxes . . . dear."
The paper had an odd feel to it. The edges were hard and almost hot to the touch.
Billy completed his task and pushed the papers away from him. Florence de Grey quickly put them into her bag, which Billy saw was already stuffed with forms just like his. She patted the bag with satisfaction. "Safe and sound," she said, and then leaning forward, she told Billy "I keep the oaths, / And thus they are kept. / No breaking of oaths, / Of which I am the keeper."
And this time the smile did crinkle her eyes.
"You'd better watch out, Billy" said Ezekiel with a snicker. "People have tried to break the oaths kept in that bag, and oh my how they suffered for it."
"Really?" Billy said nervously
Events moved swiftly after that. Everyone stood up except Ezekiel, who insisted on shaking Billy's hand and congratulating him. "Off you go, my boy" he said, giving Billy a push.
Dr. Bloor led the way down to the hall, where he patted Billy on the back and told him he was extremely fortunate to have found such good parents. Weedon opened the main doors, and Manfred lifted the large suitcase and gave it to Billy who followed his new parents across the square to a small gray car.
Billy climbed into the back of the car with his suit case, and as soon as Florence was in the passenger seat, Mr. de Grey drove off. Usher was a careful driver ant Billy 's journey across the city was a lot more comfort able th an Charlie's had been.
They parked at the bottom of a dark cobblestoned alley and Billy was told to get out. A thick mist had fallen, and he almost lost sight of the de Greys as they walked briskly up the steep alley Billy hurried after them. He passed a rusty sign that said CROOK'S PASSAGE . Farther on, a large notice tacked to a doorway said VAGRANTS ARE ADVISED NOT TO LINGER .
Crook's Passage became steeper and steeper. Occasionally Billy tripped over a shallow step, and the large suitcase bumped on the cobblestones. It seemed much heavier now, and Billy began to drag it behind him — thump, thump, thump! The de Greys appeared not to notice.
The wall inside Billy's stomach had moved up to his chest. He had imagined his new home to be a sunny house with a wide lawn, not somewhere dark and secret like this. A wooden sign creaked above his head and he stepped back to read it. The words " PASSING HOUSE TEN METERS" had been painted in black on a red background. Those ten meters were the steepest of all. Billy's breathing turned into a quiet groan as he heaved his suitcase up to a door, where his new parents stood watching him.
"Here we are, Billy," said Florence.
Above the door the words "THE PASSING HOUSE" had been carved in the stone. Usher fitted an enormous iron key into an equally enormous lock. There was a loud clunk and the door swung inward. Billy climbed two steps and walked into the house.
The hall was surprisingly large for a house that began in a dark alley It was tiled in black-and-white marble, and its gray walls were decorated with plaster figures. A huge gilt-framed mirror hung above an empty glass cabinet, but when Billy looked into the mirror, he saw only a blob of white. His hair? The rest of him was swallowed up in a gray fog. Had the mist followed them in or was it always here?
Tunic on, Billy!" called Florence, beckoning from a stone staircase.
Billy pattered across the marble tiles. His suitcase slithered and squeaked behind him. He walked between t wo tall marble columns and began to climb the staircase. One, two, three. He paused for breath, clinging to the iron railing. Usher de Grey had vanished through a door on the ground floor.
"Come on, come on!" Florence called from the landing. "You'll just love your room."
Billy puffed up the remaining steps and followed Florence down a long corridor. When they had reached the very end, she opened a door, saying, "Here we are!"
Billy stepped into his room: the very first room that had ever been truly his and no one else's. It was even better than he had expected. He put down his suitcase and gazed around him.
The bed was much larger than the narrow beds at Bloor's Academy It had a blue checkered duvet and pillowcase and a pine headboard. There was a tall pine wardrobe and a matching chest of drawers, but Billy barely took in these details. He was staring at a TV on its black stand, and then at a computer, sitting on a pine desk. His?
"Mine?" asked Billy breathlessly
"All yours," said Florence. She was still carrying the hag, and she tapped it briefly while she gave Billy one of her strange smiles. "As long as you keep your promises."
"My oaths?" said Billy
"Exactly Now, you make yourself at home, Billy. There's a sink in your room. See, behind that screen?" She pointed to a white screen in the corner. "So there's no excuse to come to meals with dirty hands. Understood?"
Billy nodded.
"Dinner is at six." She indicated a clock above the computer. "So, no excuses for being late, either." Florence turned on her heels and walked out, closing the door behind her.
Billy sat on his bed. It was too much to take in. H e wanted to tell someone about it. Charlie. Maybe Charlie could come over. He would be so surprised.
It was only four o'clock. There would be plenty of t ime before dinner. Billy decided to ask Florence if he cou ld have a friend over. He ran downstairs and looked into the rooms on the ground floor: a kitchen, a dining room, a very fancy living room, and an office. The de Greys were nowhere to be seen.
"Excuse me!" called Billy
There was no reply
Billy crept toward the front door. Maybe he should just go out and find Charlie. As he drew level with the hall mirror, something very odd happened. He found that he couldn't move any farther. An invisible barrier held him back. Again and again, Billy tried to slide his feet forward, but they met a solid wall of — nothing. It was impossible to rea
ch the front door. He attempted to push his hands through the unseen barrier, but it was like pushing against a wall of iron.
Billy retreated and sat on a chair beside the empty cabinet. He couldn't believe what was happening. He wondered if he waited a few minutes, the ghostly barrier would melt away
As he gazed around the hall, he noticed that there were no coats hanging on the hall stand; there were no hats on the pegs, no walking sticks, umbrellas, boots, or bags tucked into the space beneath the pegs. It was almost as if no one lived in the Passing House. And th en Billy became aware of something black at t he f oot of the stand.
He got up and went to take a look. It was a very small cat with a gray muzzle and a thin tail. At last, something that Billy could talk to. He knelt beside the little creature and said, "Hello! I'm Billy I've come to live here."
"Welcome, Billy" said the cat in a frail voice. "I am Clawdia. For myself I am happy that you are here, but for you, I am very sorry"
ALICE ANGEL
When Charlie left Darkly Wynd, he didn't go straight home but instead turned onto a road that led to Ingledew's bookstore.
Ingledew's stood in a row of old, half-timber buildings that bordered the cathedral square. As Charlie walked over the ancient cobblestones toward the bookstore, he heard the sound of an organ being played deep inside the huge, domed building. His father had been the cathedral organist, until one day he had vanished from this very place. Maybe Charlie was standing exactly where his father had last been seen. Lyell Bone had tried to stop the Bloors from kidnapping Emma Tolly and for this he had been horribly punished: hypnotized, trapped, hidden, and lost to his wife and child. They said that Lyell was dead, but Charlie knew better.
He gave a big shrug, told himself not to have too many gloomy thoughts, and marched over to the bookstore.
Emma stood behind the counter, examining a pile of large leatherbound books. She looked up when the shop door tinkled and Charlie walked in.
"Hi, Charlie. You got out of detention early"
"They didn't want me around," said Charlie. "It's Billy's adoption day"
