Alfie tried to imagine his mum and uncle as mischievous children but couldn’t picture Uncle Herb ever being young. On the way back to the farmhouse, a brilliant idea hit him.
“Hey, why don’t we have a stake-out? Maybe we could catch the rustlers ourselves. Wouldn’t that be the best adventure for the summer holidays?”
Madeleine’s face lit up at the mention of adventure. “I can’t believe we never thought of it. There’s no way Dad can say no if he did it himself!”
By the time they got back to the farmhouse their minds were set.
“I’ll work out when the next few new moons are,” said Robin as he headed up to bed. “We need to plan carefully though. This could be dangerous.”
Madeleine rolled her eyes at Alfie as she disappeared into her bedroom.
It took Alfie a second to remember where he was when he woke up in the top bunk of Robin’s bed. He blinked his eyes against the morning sun as he sat up and knocked his head on a wooden airship hanging from the ceiling. The walls were covered with star charts, diagrams of insects and posters of dinosaurs. Robin was sitting at his desk, scribbling in a little notebook as he studied the ant farm in front of him.
“Morning, cuz.” Alfie climbed down from the bed and peered through the large telescope in front of the window. “I see you’re still interested in, well, absolutely everything!”
Robin laughed. “Maddie reckons there isn’t enough room in my brain for everything I want to know.”
“Only because it’s so small you’d need that microscope to find it,” said Madeleine, sticking her head around the door.
“It’s a telescope, not a microscope, genius.” Robin span the telescope around and pointed it at Madeleine’s ear. “Hey, Alfie, look, you can see straight through!”
“Idiot!”
Alfie ducked as Madeleine slapped the telescope and sent it spinning.
“Anyway, get moving. We’ve loads to do and Dad wants to see Alfie before we go.”
Alfie spent the whole day adventuring with the twins. He had forgotten just how much he loved spending time with them. While Robin was neat and tidy and seemed to know everything about everything, Madeleine’s knees and elbows were always covered in scrapes and scabs, each of which had a great story behind it – even if it wasn’t always quite the truth.
After an exhausting day spent exploring the woods, apple picking, skipping stones in Lake Archelon and playing pirates in the twin’s rickety tree house, Alfie was ravenous. When Aunt Grace called them in for dinner, he raced his cousins to the kitchen.
A removal van had dropped the full contents of their flat off that afternoon, but with all of his devices still boxed up, Alfie’s dad had spent the whole day working on the farm with Uncle Herb. Alfie had to nudge him several times during dinner to stop him falling asleep in his stew and dumplings.
“Hold on a minute!” called Aunt Grace as Alfie and the twins finished their dinner and tried to slip off to play board games.
“I know – dishes!” said Robin as they trooped back into the kitchen.
“Good guess, but not this time,” said Aunt Grace, holding out a carrier bag full of jams and pickles. “I want all of you to take these over to Mrs Emmett and apologize for stealing her apples.”
Alfie’s heart sank when he realized whose apples they had picked and eaten that morning. He tried to slide behind the twins as they pulled their best innocent faces.
“Yes, don’t think I didn’t see you in her trees, and if I saw you, Mrs Emmett did too. So get over there and apologize before she comes knocking. I’ll be checking that you did!”
“Aww, they weren’t even ripe anyway,” groaned Madeleine, as they traipsed out of the house.
“Tell her I found three of her sheep in our fields yesterday,” Uncle Herb called after them. “They seem a bit jumpy, so I’ll bring them over in the morning if they’ve calmed down.”
“Fine,” said Madeleine gloomily, before muttering under her breath, “So why don’t you take the jam over tomorrow?”
“What was that?” Uncle Herb called from the kitchen.
“Nothing!”
Alfie’s stomach continued to squirm as they trekked down the lane to the neighbouring farm. He had met Mrs Emmett on previous visits and most of his memories were of her chasing him for one reason or another. Once she even chased him out of the post office for opening the door for her. She had shouted down the street asking if he thought she was too feeble to open it herself.
It was still quite light when they reached Mrs Emmett’s house. Alfie had always been nervous about going anywhere near it, as though she would run out and chase him at any minute. As they crept through the orchard, he could see that his cousins were just as wary. It was the creepiest-looking orchard Alfie had ever seen. The trees were bent over like scary old witches reaching out to grab him with their long, gnarly fingers.
“You knock,” said Madeleine, nudging Robin forwards as they reached the house.
“No way, it was your idea to pick the apples!” said Robin, slipping back behind her.
“Yeah, but I knocked last time.”
“It was your idea that time too!”
Alfie knew this could go on for hours, and he wanted to get off Mrs Emmett’s land as soon as possible.
“I’ll do it,” he sighed, finally. He tapped lightly three times, holding his breath to listen for sounds from the house as he waited a whole long minute. No answer. Robin and Madeleine nudged him forwards again as they cowered behind him. Alfie was sure the trees were watching him as he reached out and rapped harder. Madeleine gave a nervous squeak as the door swung open under his touch.
Nerves jangling, Alfie stuck his head into the musty old kitchen. “Mrs Emmett – are you there?” he stepped back a little, ready to run if the old lady appeared. Something didn’t feel right. “She’s definitely not home,” he whispered at last.
“Great,” said Madeleine, brightening considerably. “We can just leave these and head back.”
“Hold on, Maddie. Can you see Mrs Emmett leaving her door unlocked for even a minute?” said Robin.
“That means she’ll be back soon, so let’s scoot!” Madeleine dumped the bag just inside the door and darted back outside.
Alfie had a gnawing feeling in his chest. He crossed the kitchen and touched the stove. It was cold, as though it hadn’t been lit all day. An empty oil lamp sat on the counter nearby. It looked as though it had been left to burn itself out. Spotting the open tin of shotgun cartridges next to the kettle, he held one out to the twins. “Something’s very wrong.”
“The sheep on our farm!” gasped Robin. “It was a new moon four nights ago. Maybe she heard the rustlers and went out to confront them.”
Alfie ran outside and scanned the fields. “Look, the sheep pen!”
Only one side of the pen was left standing, the rest was broken to pieces as though it had been stomped by a giant. They rushed towards it and were greeted by a grisly sight. The wood scattered across the pen was stained with blood.
Alfie nudged a piece of wood with his foot and leapt back in horror as it slid away to reveal a bloodied hoof.
“This doesn’t make sense. Why would rustlers kill the animals they were stealing?”
“They wouldn’t.” Robin prodded the hoof with a stick. “They must have needed a truck to put the sheep in. Maybe they crashed through the fence and accidentally killed one.”
Alfie couldn’t see any tyre tracks. He wished they’d gone home when Mrs Emmett didn’t answer the door. Something very bad had happened here.
“Come and look at this,” called Madeleine.
She was staring at a pile of ashes in a circle of scorched earth that didn’t look like the site of any normal fire.
Robin jabbed the blackened mud of the crater with his stick. “Look at the way the stones are cracked. It’s like s
omeone used a giant blowtorch on the ground.”
Alfie poked around in the earth with his cousins, but all he found were stones and an old rusty buckle that must have been in the soil for years. Just as they were about to give up their search for clues, Robin found something a bit different to the other rocks. Alfie watched as he brushed away the dirt and rubbed it on his handkerchief to clear away the soot.
“What is it?” asked Madeleine, pulling at his arm. “Come on, let me see!” Robin had frozen, staring at the thing he held in his hand.
“What did he find?” asked Alfie as he saw the colour drain from Madeleine’s face.
Madeleine lowered Robin’s arm so that Alfie could see the small, blackened object he was holding. It was cracked and partly melted from the heat of the fire, but there was no mistaking what it was. As Alfie stared down into Robin’s hand, Mrs Emmett’s cracked blue glass eye glared right back at him.
A cheer went up from the crowd that had gathered at the bottom of Hopcraft Hill as Uncle Herb’s truck trundled past them on the way up to the castle. All of the Blooms’ worldly possessions were bundled into the back. Alfie felt like a celebrity as he waved to the crowd, even though a chill was still running through his veins from the night before.
The police had been at the farm until very late. Alfie and the twins had to answer lots of questions about why they were at Mrs Emmett’s farm and the exact spot in which they found the glass eye. Alfie had felt sick after their grisly discovery. For all her usual bravado, Madeleine had trembled as she spoke. Robin had sat like a ghostly statue as Mrs Emmett’s eye watched them from a plastic evidence bag on the kitchen table.
When the police finally finished with their questions, Inspector Wainwright tucked the bag into his uniform pocket and headed outside for a chat with Uncle Herb. Aunt Grace had given Alfie and the twins hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and made them watch cartoons for a while, hoping that it might stop them from having nightmares. It didn’t.
Alfie climbed down from the back of the truck as his dad and uncle started to unload it. He sat on one of the boxes watching his aunt scurry down the hill to join the cluster of villagers talking excitedly among themselves. The group opened up then closed around her.
“She’s off to tell them all about Mrs Emmett,” said Madeleine, picking at the brown tape on one of the boxes. “She was on the phone to Gertie Entwhistle from the sweet shop all morning.”
“What do you think happened to her?” asked Alfie, feeling an involuntary shiver as he gazed down across the fields towards the old lady’s farm.
“I don’t want to think about it.”
“The Inspector said it didn’t seem like the rustlers,” said Robin. “They haven’t seen anything like it before. Maybe it was a freak lightning strike, or something?”
“Look, can we just stop talking about it please?” said Madeleine.
Alfie saw the look on Madeleine’s face and quickly changed the subject by pulling out his folder of building plans.
“Here – why don’t you pick out bedrooms? Then you can come and stay as often as you like.”
The twins stared at him in amazement.
“Really? Are you serious?” asked Madeleine as Alfie handed her the plans. Robin looked as though he was about to explode as the three of them lay on the grass poring over the plans. There were certainly a lot of rooms.
“Look at how thick the walls are,” said Robin. “They’re wider than my whole bedroom. Alfie, when aliens invade Hexbridge, I’m moving in permanently!”
“Emily gave me these articles about the castle,” said Alfie, pulling a news clipping out of the folder. “This one is my favourite. It says that three stonemasons came up here to steal bricks in 1890. Witnesses saw a flash of light just before the three of them ran down the hill screaming. One turned up in a farmer’s field rolling in mud with the pigs, another was found wandering round the village pecking for corn kernels and the third sat next to the lake for two days trying to catch flies with his tongue.”
“No wonder it has never been broken into,” said Robin as they gazed up at the castle. “Not after stories like that.”
The second the village clock chimed twelve, Alfie looked down the hill for any sign of Caspian Bone. Had he forgotten about their meeting?
“I see you have brought friends,” said a voice from right behind him, making everyone jump. Alfie thought Caspian looked rather pleased by their reaction to his stealthy arrival.
“Well, Master Bloom,” the solicitor announced as Alfie’s dad and uncle hurried over. “All facilities have been updated and I can now present you with two sets of keys to your new home.”
Each of the key rings held a large iron key, a silver disc bearing the Muninn and Bone coat of arms and a rectangular piece of wood with two brass buttons. Alfie’s also held a small silver whistle.
Alfie held up the wooden object. “What’s this for?”
“Press the bottom button and find out,” said the solicitor.
Alfie pressed it. There was a loud clanking noise. Small pieces of crumbled mortar and dust showered into the moat as he watched the drawbridge lower for the first time in centuries. It came to rest on the stone slab in front of him with a heavy thud, forming a very solid bridge across the moat. The portcullis that barred the castle gateway rattled upwards to a round of applause from the crowd at the bottom of the hill.
“Whoa!” cried the twins in unison.
“As you can see, our contractors have aimed to make life in the castle as convenient as possible without destroying any of the original features,” said Caspian.
Alfie raced across the drawbridge and through the arched entrance, closely followed by the twins and his dad. Reaching a huge courtyard, he stopped and gazed around in awe. Flowering plants climbed the walls and gently skirted the leaded windows. A massive oak tree stood at the centre of the square. Sunlight streamed through its leaves, shedding dappled light on to the stone bench that partly encircled its trunk.
Beyond the paved area was a lush garden, alive with chirping birds, squirrels and rabbits that bounced across the grass. Alfie nudged his dad and pointed out a gargoyle fountain set into a wall, spouting crystal-clear water from its mouth into a rocky pool where large goldfish blew bubbles between the lily pads.
“It’s beautiful, Alfie. The most amazing place I’ve ever seen.”
“And it’s ours, Dad!” Alfie thought he was going to burst with happiness.
“If you would care to try out your key, we can step inside,” said Caspian.
Alfie approached the huge wooden double door at the far end of the courtyard. It unlocked with a satisfying clunk, and he swung it open to reveal a grand entrance hall with a large stone staircase that swept upwards to a galleried landing. The sun streamed though three long stained glass windows, painting the hall in a mosaic of rainbow-coloured light.
“There are lots of staircases leading to different areas of the castle,” said Caspian as Alfie stared up at the windows in awe. “For example, that small door in the corner opens on to a spiral staircase leading to the battlements. You will find that there are many different ways to get to some places and only one way to get to others. I believe you have the basic plans, but if you wish to see more detailed maps I suggest you try the castle library.” Alfie noticed Robin’s eyes light up at the mention of a library.
“These tapestries,” said his dad thoughtfully, lifting the corner of the nearest one. “They’re originals. They must be hundreds of years old, but they’re in perfect condition.”
“The castle has a…” Caspian paused, “I suppose you might call it a protective environment. You will find that everything here is remarkably well preserved.”
“Yes, but how does—”
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr Bloom,” interrupted Caspian, swatting the question out of the air with his hand. “I have other pressing
matters to attend to. Several telephones have been installed.” Caspian indicated a very old-fashioned dial phone on the wall. “If you require our help just dial moon, star, and you will be put straight through to our offices.”
Alfie had a quick look at the dial and noticed that after the zero there was a little silver moon, followed by a star and a sun.
“There aren’t any wires or cables to the castle,” said his dad. “So how do the telephones work?”
“Mr Bloom,” said Caspian, swishing his cape as he strolled back out of the door, “you really do ask the most mundane questions.”
Madeleine and Robin were already running around shouting out each new discovery. Alfie was desperate to join them but had a burning question to ask Caspian. He followed the solicitor outside and saw that he was sitting on the bench under the oak tree, waiting.
“You wish to ask me if I was the raven outside of your school?” he asked. Alfie swallowed the question back down. “The answer is yes. I switched briefly out of raven form to see you with my human eyes. A rare lapse in judgement.”
“You’re a shape-shifter!” said Alfie, sitting down on the bench. He had seen the evidence with his own eyes but still hardly believed it. “Are there are more people like you?”
Caspian flicked back his hair “There is no one quite like me,” he replied. “But if you wish to know if there are more shape-shifters in the world, then the answer is yes, many more. I’m sure you have heard of the African Bouda who take on the form of hyenas, or the Na-ga – the snake people of Nepal?”
Alfie felt a little embarrassed as he looked at Caspian, blankly. The solicitor clicked his tongue.
“Do you learn anything practical at school? I suppose you are more familiar with tales of werewolves and vampire bats? Contrary to what those stories would have you believe, a shape-shifter’s sole ambition is not to bite or maul as many humans as possible.”
“So why were you watching me?” asked Alfie.
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle Page 4