Griffin of Darkwood (9 page)

Macavity got up from his spot in front of the fire and walked over to Will and bumped against his leg. Will reached down and stroked him. The cat’s eyes remained a steady pale green. Vespera sat very still, staring into the tea cup, and Will wondered if she had gone into some kind of trance.

Finally, Vespera looked up. “I see a violin. You feel lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah. I really miss my mum.”

“Of course you do. Ah…several more pictures are becoming clear. I see some bumblebees, which means that you have been meeting new friends.”

“Thom and Emma. I just met them yesterday, but it’s kind of weird. It feels like I’ve known them forever.”

“The best kind.”

“What else do you see?”

“A boat. Someone important is coming to visit you soon. This person has been away but hasn’t forgotten you.”

“Mr. Barnaby! He’s the man who’s supposed to publish my mother’s book.”

Vespera passed her hand over the teacup. “You have very busy tea leaves.” A sudden frown crossed her face.

“What is it?”

“I could be mistaken…yes, I’m sure I am…I think we’d better stop.”

“You can’t stop now! That’s not fair!”

Chapter Fouteen

The Griffin’s Curse

“There are two images here
that are disturbing,” said Vespera. “Two lizards. That almost always means hidden enemies and treachery.”

“That’s gotta be the Cherrys!" said Will.

“I wish I could say they were something else,” sighed Vespera, “but there is no doubt in my mind that I’m seeing lizards…well, now this is interesting.”

“What?”

“A hammer. Very rare. I believe it’s telling us that you will triumph over adversity.’

“Adversity. I’m not sure what that means exactly.”

“Great misfortune. Your life is not easy. But you will triumph, Will. That should give you hope.”

Vespera and Macavity came outside with Will to the courtyard to say good-bye. Macavity rolled on his back on the brightly coloured tiles. Will frowned. “It’s weird, but when I came here before I’m sure the tiles made a rainbow. Now they look like stars. Do you think that was magic?”

“Without a doubt,” said Vespera. “A rainbow indeed. Have you been up to mischief, Macavity?”

Macavity contemplated his mistress with his slanted green eyes. They slowly turned a soft violet.

“There!” said Will. “See?”

“He’s showing off,” said Vespera. “Now you come back, William Poppy. You don’t mind if I call you William, do you? It’s a rare treat to find someone to talk to about writing. And try not to worry about your tea leaves.”

< • >

When Will got back
to the castle, he went to the kitchen and asked Mrs. Cherry for a bucket of water and a rag. He tried to scrub the words GO AWAY off the front door, but it was no use. The letters blurred together but stubbornly refused to disappear. You could still tell what they said. How could anyone hate them that much? It didn’t make any sense.

That night, he found some matches in the dining room and four saucers for candlesticks. He melted a blob of wax on each saucer, and stuck candles in all four and set them on the ledges in the tower wall. The lit candles cast long flickering shadows on the stone birds. He thought about the word
adversity
. He opened his trunk and took out his thesaurus and looked it up.

“Difficulty, ordeal, hard times, ill wind, evil day, curse,”
he read out loud.

Curse!
What if Vespera had made a mistake? What if he wasn’t going to triumph? He stored the word
adversity
in his brain where he kept interesting words and then lay on his back on the bed and stared at the sparrowhawks. Who had carved them? He read for a while and then glanced at the candles. They burned brightly and looked just as tall as when he first lit them. Were they magic candles?

He thought about the weaver Morgan Moonstone, the tiles that changed from a rainbow to stars, Macavity’s amazing eyes, Mr. Tumnus in the bookstore and the strange light that glowed in the pencil box. And now the candles. There was magic all around him. He put the thesaurus back in his trunk and picked up the writing book with the emerald cover, feeling an ache deep inside. Then he put the book back too.

Favian had said, “Once a writer, always a writer.” He was wrong. Will knew he would never write again.

< • >

In the morning,
he went straight to Thom’s flat. He knocked on the door and Thom opened it, holding a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. John Fairweather was busy at his loom. “Hello, Will. Are you hungry? Thom has told me about Mrs. Cherry’s cooking.”

“Starving,” said Will.

“Come on in the kitchen and I’ll make you a pb and j sandwich,” offered Thom.

While they were eating, John wheeled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I need to find out more about the griffin’s curse,” said Will. “Was there really a griffin?”

John sighed. “I suppose Thom and Emma told you about the girl who died in the castle.”

Will nodded.

“Well, I hope they didn’t alarm you. It happened years and years ago.”

“Who was she?”

“Hannah Linley. Hundreds of years ago the king gave the Linleys the castle as a reward for good service. Over the years there have been a great many Lord Linleys.”

“Hannah’s grave is in the Linley graveyard,” said Thom.

“Hannah was my dad’s cousin,” said John, “but I never knew her. She died before I was born. I’ve been told she was like Thom. She felt the suffering of animals. Her mother was a Fairweather who worked as a maid in the castle. Her father was Lord Linley. It must have caused quite a scandal. Hannah was brought up in the castle.”

John took a sip of coffee. “Hannah inherited her gift with animals from the Fairweathers. When you read the dates on her gravestone, you realize she was no older than you when she died.”

“Favian told me he had a friend called Hannah,” said Will, “but he never told me she died. What happened to her?”

“She was very ill. I don’t know anything else. It was forty years ago. Lord and Lady Linley left after she died and the castle was closed. Some people in the village believe that Hannah died because a griffin cursed the castle hundreds of years ago.”

Thom said softly, “The mine, Dad. People blame the griffin’s curse for the mine too.”

“Yes, they do.” John’s eyes took on a distant look. “Ten years ago, the village got permission from the Linleys to open the castle and have a magic festival. They thought it would bring in tourists. The same night, the mine collapsed. People said it was because we opened up the castle and
made the griffin angry.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk about it, Dad,” said Thom.

“It’s okay. A beam fell on me and I lost the use of my legs, Will, but at least I was spared my life. Twenty-four men died.”

“Other bad things have happened too,” said Thom. “Right, Dad?”

“There's stories of a dam breaking and washing away fifty homes in the seventeen hundreds, an epidemic of smallpox in the eighteen hundreds, a Linley who went insane seventy-five years ago and terrorized the village.” John sighed. “And other stories too. People always blame the castle and the griffin. But none of that means that there's a curse.”

“That’s why the bus driver, Purvis Sneed, said we should stay away,” said Will. “No one wants us in the castle! People are afraid of another disaster.”

“Don’t worry about Purvis Sneed,” said John. “Most
of us are pleased to see the castle lived in again. You mustn’t
pay attention to what people say.”

“That’s what Vespera Moonstone said when we were on the bus. But it’s really scaring me.”

“Griffins are a figment of our imaginations,” said John firmly. “The castle is just what it appears to be – an old ruin. I’m delighted that your aunt has bought it. It’s time we got rid of these superstitions.”

But Will saw a shadow pass over John’s face.
He’s just trying to make me feel better,
he thought uneasily.
He
does
believe in the griffin’s curse.

Capter Fifteen

Shadow Alley

Will and Thom left the flat
and walked to the bookstore. When they got to the square, Peaches trotted past them carrying a big black umbrella. Vespera Moonstone was going out the door of
Ex Libris
just as they went in.

“Favian and I were finalizing some of the details for my poetry reading,” she said. “We’re thinking of serving cream puffs with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. People will come if there’s free food.”

“Cream puffs!” said Thom. “They’re in
Mastering the Art of French Cooking
. They have a fancy French name but it means cream puffs! I’ve been dying to try them. I’ll make them for your reading!”

“Splendid,” said Vespera.

Favian was on his knees, unpacking a new shipment of
The Lord of the Rings
trilogy.

“I’ve thought of two palindromes for you,” said Will. “
Dad
and
did
. I know they’re pretty lame but –”

“It’s a start,” said Favian. “It’s much harder than you’d think. I had an inspiration last night.
Was it a cat I saw?
I might enter it in the next contest.”

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Thom.

Will was explaining palindromes to him when
Thud!
behind a tower of books, a volume hit the floor. A faint voice said, “Whoops.”

Will and Thom spun around. The girl dressed all in black with long red hair and huge round glasses appeared around a corner. Will’s eyes narrowed.
Her again!
It gave him the creeps how she kept popping up wherever he was.

“Are you on your way now, Madeleine?” said Favian. The girl mumbled something under her breath and fled.

“That was Madeleine de Luca,” said Thom. “She’s really weird.” He frowned. “I hope she’s not spying on us!”

“Why would she?” asked Will. “What’s the matter with her?”

“I dunno. I told you, she’s weird. She’s home-schooled, and she’s kind of snobby. Emma can’t stand her.”

They each found a book. Thom plopped into the saggy armchair, which had been moved to another corner of the shop. Will sat on the floor and leaned against the arm. He glanced up once into a pair of round green eyes peering at them between two piles of books. He instantly recognized Harry Potter’s house elf. “Thom,” he said in a low voice. “Look.”

“What?” said Thom. “I don’t see anything.”

The face vanished. “Never mind,” said Will.

“Dobby’s here too,” he told Favian on their way out.

“Excellent,” said Favian.

Rain was spitting on the cobblestones of the square as they started up Black Penny Road. Brakes squealed in front of them and Mr. Cherry’s pink van pulled over at the entrance to Shadow Alley. Will yanked Thom back into a doorway. Mr. Cherry got out of the van and slunk off down the alley.

“Let’s follow him and see where he’s going,” said Will.

Thom chewed his lip. “I don’t know –”

“We can always take off if we have to. Come on!”

Will strode into the gloomy alley and, with a sigh, Thom followed him.

It was as dark as night in Shadow Alley. Inky shadows filled the nooks and corners. Only a narrow strip of grey sky was visible between the tall soot-blackened buildings. Three scrawny alley cats were fighting over a discarded fish head and a dog, missing a front leg, limped past without giving the cats a glance.

“I’m picking up a lot of bad feelings in this alley,” moaned Thom. “In my whole life I’ve never come in here. Now I know why.”

His heart thudding, Will squinted through the gloom for any sign of Mr. Cherry. The alley was so narrow that in places you could almost touch the buildings on both sides. Low doors were set back in the grimy brick walls. Some of the windows had iron grills across them or wooden shutters nailed tight.

Shadow Alley would be perfect in a story,
he thought. He turned and glanced back over his shoulder. The Muses were there, but very faint, like ghosts.
They’re getting weaker,
he thought hopefully.

The alley climbed steeply. The rain had turned into a cold steady drizzle, and the slippery black cobblestones gleamed. A dark figure disappeared around a dim corner in front of them. Mr. Cherry. Will grabbed Thom’s arm.

They waited for a few minutes and then crept around the corner. Mr. Cherry was gone. They were standing in front of a low curved door with a chipped tile above it that said
P. Sneed
.

“P. Sneed,” whispered Will. “That must be Purvis, the bus driver.”

“Mr. Cherry’s gone inside,” said Thom.
“Let’s get outta here.”

Suddenly two long thin arms shot out of a dark recess beside the door. One bony white hand grabbed Thom’s collar and the other grabbed Will’s jacket.