“These deeds were entrusted to this firm quite some time ago with the instruction that they pass to you on your twelfth birthday. However, in light of yesterday’s … event, we deemed it necessary to set into motion the early transference of your inheritance.”
Alfie scanned the pages of legal text and a familiar name caught his eye. A name linked to the village where his mum’s family still lived. He looked up in amazement. “These papers … they’re about Hexbridge Castle?”
“Your castle,” asserted Caspian.
“You’re kidding?” Alfie searched Caspian’s face for the slightest sign that this was a joke. He found none.
“I do not kid. The deeds are yours, making the castle yours.”
Alfie clutched the papers to his chest as if they might blow away at any second.
“Seriously? I can live in it if I want?”
“That is, in fact, the only caveat. You must live in it. It contains a great deal of Orin’s work and most precious possessions, and they are to pass only to you and your heirs. The castle can never be sold or pass out of your family. If you cease to call it your home, it will seal itself for ever.”
“How can Alfie own a castle? He’s only eleven!”
“I’m nearly twelve, Dad,” said Alfie, already imagining life in Hexbridge Castle near the farm where his cousins, Madeleine and Robin, lived. He could visit them every day!
“As you know, the castle has been sealed for hundreds of years,” Caspian continued, “although it is still in the same fine condition as the day it was left. I assumed that you would require certain aspects of the building to be brought up to modern standards and have taken the liberty of arranging the renovation. The work will be conducted over the next four days, after which time you will move into your new home.”
Alfie noted the way that Caspian spat out the word “modern” as though it had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
“That must be an awful lot of work,” said his dad. “Can it really be done in so little time? Surely it would take weeks.”
“With our contractors, anything is possible,” replied the solicitor. “I will meet you outside the castle at noon in four days time to hand over the keys.”
“Wait a minute, Mr Bone.” Alfie’s dad looked as though he had just snapped out of a dream. “You’re assuming too much. Don’t we have any say in this? I can’t afford the upkeep on a building like that. What about the bills?”
Caspian looked mildly amused.
“You will find the castle remarkably self-sustaining. As Alfie’s guardian, you inherit a generous monthly allowance that will be transferred into Alfie’s name when he comes of age. It will provide very well for both your needs.”
“That may be so, but this all sounds far too good to be true. What’s the catch, Mr Bone?”
“No catch. Take it, or leave it.”
Alfie stared incredulously at his dad as Caspian tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. “Are you kidding? We can live in a castle instead of our poxy old flat! You won’t have to worry about working all those jobs.”
“I know, Alfie, but just think about the practicalities.”
“You’ll have a lot more room to work on your inventions.” Alfie couldn’t believe he had to convince his dad to accept a free castle. “You’re always saying the workshop is too small. Imagine what you could create with all that space to work in.”
His father gazed up at the flying machine hanging from the ceiling. Alfie sensed him weakening and began to list all of the projects he would be able to finish.
“OK, OK,” he sighed finally. “But this is all happening very fast. I’d like to think I had some choice in it.”
“I apologize if I seemed presumptuous,” said Caspian Bone, looking at his fingernails and not appearing the slightest bit sorry. “However the choice is Alfie’s to make, and I believe he has already decided.”
Alfie beamed at his dad who laughed and threw up his hands in defeat.
“If I may continue?” Caspian flipped through pages that Alfie could have sworn were blank seconds before. “As you can see, the name on the deeds now reads Alfie Bloom. These should be kept somewhere secure. I suggest that you continue to entrust them to our care.”
“That’s fine by me,” said Alfie. After the strange journey he had the feeling that Muninn and Bone was a very safe and secret place indeed.
“A wise decision, Master Bloom. They will be transferred back to the vaults. Now, the final matter on the agenda.” Caspian drew a small velvet pouch from his breast pocket and placed it into Alfie’s hand. “Open it.”
Alfie reached inside and pulled out a thin gold disc the size of a two-pound coin. There was a strip of leather threaded through a loop at the top so that it could be worn around the neck. Lots of tiny runic symbols had been scratched into the gold, spiralling out from a purple-coloured lens in the centre. It felt warm in his fingers and looked old. Very old.
“What is it?” he asked.
“An ocular talisman,” replied Caspian, as though the answer was obvious. “Put it on.”
“A what talisman?”
“Ocular. It means you can look through it. Make sure you wear it at all times.”
“Why?” asked Alfie as he fastened the cord around his neck.
“Please excuse me,” Caspian stood up and straightened his jacket.
“But, I wanted to ask—” began Alfie.
“Our business is concluded. I have matters to attend to elsewhere.” Caspian stepped around the desk and shook their hands again. “Congratulations on your marvellous inheritance. Our next meeting will be at your new residence.”
Alfie and his dad stood up, still reeling at the news and rather surprised at the abrupt end to the meeting.
“Aren’t you travelling down with us, Mr Bone?” asked Alfie as they were ushered back on to the brass disc.
“I will use the other exit,” replied Caspian.
Alfie’s eye fell on a large open window and Caspian gave him the tiniest hint of a nod before the door slid shut.
Thankfully the lift was slower on the way down. Emily Fortune met them at the bottom and they signed the book to confirm the time they had left. Alfie had slightly longer to look at it this time and noticed how strange some of the other thumbprints were. Next to two names that could only have been read with a magnifying glass were two tiny handprints. Then there was a thumbprint as big as a fist next to a huge scrawled signature. The other three visitors that day had written their names in hieroglyphics and there was a little prick mark above each of their prints as if the owners had claws.
“Ooh, I see you’re wearing Orin’s talisman,” said Emily as she closed the book. “Very good, but Mr Bone should have told you to keep it hidden. You may meet people who shouldn’t discover that you have something like that.”
“Do you know what it is and why I have to wear it?”
“You mean no one has explained it to you yet?”
“No one has explained anything!”
“Oh dear. Mr Bone does love to make things mysterious.”
“He’s not the only one.” Alfie cast a sideways look at his dad, who suddenly appeared very interested in the ceiling.
“May I?” She knelt down and held the disc. Alfie noticed that her fingers were adorned with beautiful, delicate silver rings. “It is many things: a key to at least one door that should never be opened and a lens that can reveal secrets and focus energy. It is also a protective talisman. A very valuable gift from Orin Hopcraft.”
“Caspian kept saying that name. Who is he?”
“The Great Druid. The last time I saw him was right here in this office many years ago. You met him too, on the day you were born. This talisman was to be a gift on your twelfth birthday. As you’re moving to the castle now, we thought you should start wearing it early, just in case.”
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br /> “In case of what?”
Emily tucked the talisman into his shirt and patted his shoulder. “I don’t mean to scare you, but better safe than sad. Or is it sorry? I forget. You’ll have a wonderful time exploring the castle – it has been empty for so long.” She handed Alfie a folder. “I put together some news clippings about it and made copies of the plans for you. I’m sure there are plenty of wonderful things that aren’t marked, but at least you can decide which bedroom is going to be yours.”
Alfie took the folder and hugged it tightly to his chest, visions of thrones, dungeons and secret passages swimming through his head.
“Right, busy-busy. Sorry to chase you, things to do, people to see.”
“Miss Fortune, can you tell us where we are?” asked Alfie as Emily placed a dainty hand on each of their backs and hustled them through the door. He had been puzzling over the lack of address on the appointment letter and the journey had been pretty weird, to say the least.
“Ah, now I need to be as mysterious as Mr Bone. The whereabouts of our offices must remain forever secret due to the nature of the items we hold. There is nowhere more secure than here, but that doesn’t mean we should advertise our location. Now, take care, I’m sure we’ll meet again, and please, call me Emily.”
With that she gave a little wave and closed the door, leaving them back in the coach house where the carriage waited to take them home.
The next couple of days were spent in a flurry of activity. Aunt Grace had insisted they move to Hexbridge immediately when Alfie’s dad had called to tell her the news. She had invited them to stay on the farm until the castle was ready. Alfie could hardly wait. He bundled his meagre possessions into boxes in no time and then started helping to dismantle and pack his dad’s devices. He didn’t know what half of them actually did and had a sneaking suspicion his dad wasn’t sure either.
As they packed, he couldn’t keep his mind off the mysteries surrounding the move. His life had taken a very strange turn over the last few days. He almost expected to be told that it was a mistake, and that Emily had contacted the wrong Alfie Bloom. He kept trying to pressure his dad into telling him about Orin Hopcraft and why a stranger would leave him a castle, but he remained frustratingly tight-lipped, promising to reveal all once they were in Hexbridge Castle. Alfie couldn’t understand why he was being so secretive. What on earth had happened on the day he was born?
Mrs Craddock the landlady had waived the three-month notice period, and Alfie thought she seemed relieved they were leaving. He suspected it had something to do with all the explosions she must have heard from the flat. Finally, when everything was neatly boxed and labelled, he escaped to visit Amy.
“Alfie Bloom, king of his own castle.” Amy shook her head incredulously for the fifth time as she took a swig from her bottle of Coke. “Crazy.”
Amy lived with her gran in the flat above her tea shop. Her parents had disappeared without trace on a trip to Edinburgh when she was just five years old. When Alfie’s mum died, the other children didn’t seem to know what to say and avoided talking to him. Amy was the only person to understand how he felt. He would have been alone at school if it weren’t for her.
Alfie had filled her in on everything that had happened since school while they munched cakes in the tea shop. Hardly anything ever surprised Amy, so he was delighted to see her speechless for once.
“Don’t you dare start thinking you can lord it over me now, Your Majesty,” she warned Alfie as his dad arrived to pick him up in his wood-framed green Morris Minor.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, peasant,” grinned Alfie as he climbed into the overloaded car and carefully balanced Galileo’s travel cage on his knees. “Promise you’ll visit as soon as you can?”
“Promise!” Amy reached her fist through the car window and they bumped knuckles. “Take care of yourself, Al.”
“You too, Siu.”
Alfie waved to Amy all the way down the street, trying to swallow the large lump that suddenly filled his throat as he left his best friend behind.
“Say goodbye to the flat!” shouted his dad as they drove down Abernathy Terrace for the last time. Alfie waved goodbye. Goodbye to the mouldy little flat, goodbye to the city, goodbye to his boring old life. His heart soared. It was as though he was waking up to find that an amazing dream had come true.
Alfie spent the first half of the four-hour drive trying to get his dad to tell him how someone that must have died hundreds of years ago could have left him a castle. When that failed, they spent the rest of the journey playing guessing games. Alfie couldn’t remember the last time he had spent so long talking with his dad. Finally, he began to see the first signs for Hexbridge and counted down the miles as they drew closer and closer.
“There it is, Alfie,” said his dad, at last. “Our new home.”
Alfie looked out of the car window to see Hexbridge Castle, his castle, sitting on the edge of a cliff that dropped down to Lake Archelon below. It was incredible. It looked as though someone had taken the best bits of lots of other castles and squished them together into one compact structure with towers, turrets, balconies and battlements galore. A small, fast-moving river flowed down from higher in the hills, circling the castle before cascading off the cliff at either side as two sparkling waterfalls. Alfie stared breathlessly. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. If only he didn’t have to wait two whole nights before moving in.
He finally tore his eyes away as they turned into the leafy, sun-dappled lane that led towards the Merryweather farm where his mum and Uncle Herb had grown up. As they turned through an almost invisible gap in the hedgerows, two children yelled with delight and leapt off the gate they were sitting on. The girl had dark blonde hair which looked as though it hadn’t seen a brush in days. The boy’s hair was the same colour but considerably neater, as were his clothes. Alfie smiled. It always amazed him that his cousins looked so similar, yet so unalike at the same time.
“Alfie!” they shouted, swinging the gate wide open and running alongside the car as it trundled up the lane towards the farmhouse.
“We thought you’d never get here!”
“Mum said you’re going to live in the castle,” yelled Madeleine through the window, her hair streaming out behind her. “Who gave it to you? Are you rich now?”
Before he had time to answer Robin joined in through the other window, his eyes shining.
“Can we explore it with you? All the castles I’ve been to are in ruins. It’ll be brilliant to see inside one that has been locked up for centuries.”
Alfie laughed to see his cousin’s usually serious face lit up with excitement.
“I want to see the dungeons,” added Madeleine, wrenching the door open to pull Alfie out before the car had even rolled to a stop. “I bet there’ll be torture devices down there!”
“For goodness’ sake, leave the poor boy alone.” called a voice. “He’s been travelling all day and I’m sure he’d like something to eat before you start pestering him.”
“Aunt Grace!” yelled Alfie, as a woman with wild curly hair bustled out of the farmhouse towards them. Before he knew it, he had been swept up into a hug so tight he could hardly breathe.
“Hmm, a bit pale and skinny,” she said as she looked him up and down appraisingly. “But nothing fresh air and good food won’t put right! And you, William Horatio Bloom!” Aunt Grace span around to inspect Alfie’s dad as he lifted Galileo’s cat carrier from the car. “We really need to get some meat on those bird bones of yours. Why haven’t you been to see us for so long?”
They were ushered into the kitchen where the twins were setting the table. Alfie just had time to realize how hungry he was before a small woman with pure white hair and mischievous eyes rushed over to plant big kisses on both his cheeks. The familiar scent of violet cologne and peppermints wafted around him – he could never smell either of those thing
s without thinking of Granny Merryweather.
“My little Alfie! Look at you, taller than me now. Remember to stop growing when you’re tall enough – my Herb forgot and now he has to duck through doors.”
“Dad’s sorry he’s not here,” said Madeleine, pouring the juice as Alfie was pushed into a seat at the kitchen table. “He’s gone to the cattle auction in Muggridge to replace some cows and won’t be back till late.”
“Come on, eat up,” encouraged Granny. “Gracie has made a smashing crumble for dessert and you two look as though you haven’t eaten in weeks.”
Alfie was glad he was so hungry; he could swear the table was groaning louder than his stomach under the weight of the food. His mouth watered as he saw three types of freshly baked pie, soda bread hot from the oven, buttery new potatoes and a golden roast chicken surrounded by crisp lettuce and tomatoes fresh from the garden. Between the mountain of food and the twins’ never-ending questions about the castle, dinner lasted a very long time.
Finally, when no one could eat any more, Aunt Grace swept the plates away and suggested that Alfie and the twins walk Granny home while the adults cleared up and unpacked the car. He didn’t need much convincing to get out of doing dishes.
Granny linked his arm as they walked down the lane while Madeleine darted around searching for rabbits hiding in the overgrown ditches.
“Why does Uncle Herb need to replace cows? Did he lose some?”
“Animals are always going missing round here,” called Madeleine, grabbing at a frog that kept slipping through her fingers. “For as long as anyone can remember.”
“It’s true,” said Granny. “Old Ernie Wilmslow says that even his great granddad lost a few animals every year. Always on a new moon too, when it’s darkest. I think rustling has become someone’s family business.”
“Dad said when he was a kid, he would sneak out with Auntie Jenny to set traps for them.” Robin chimed in. “They never saw anyone though.”
“Your Grandpa put a stop to it in the end,” said Granny. “He got tired of nets dropping over him whenever he went into the cattle shed.”
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle Page 3
