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Oliver wiped away his chocolate mustache. “I don’t believe in curses,” he whispered.
Adélaïde pointed out that Oliver also had something of a chocolate beard before responding. “I don’t either. But you have to admit that all of this is very strange.”
“My father says the Chronicle is tabloid trash,” Oliver replied, reading the story once more. His father, Mr. Glub, owned a much smaller Rosewood newspaper called the Doldrums Press. “Archer’s grandparents lost their minds? They wanted to vanish?”
“Who would make that up?” Adélaïde asked, swirling a finger through the steam rising from her mug. “Do you really not believe any of it?”
Oliver opened his mouth to respond, but filled it with hot chocolate instead.
♦ THREE HOURS BY TRAIN ♦
“We’d better go,” Oliver said, gulping the last of his hot chocolate. “They’ll be picking up the mail soon.”
Adélaïde and Oliver left the café and crossed Foldink Street. The postbox was buried in the snow. Oliver wiped the door clean and pulled hard to open it. Adélaïde dropped the letter inside.
“How far away is Raven Wood, anyway?” she asked.
“Three hours by train,” he replied.
And by train was exactly how their letter would travel. It was picked up later that evening, sorted at the post office, sent in a dirty bag to Rosewood Station, and tossed into a mail car. The train pushed north through Rosewood, clanked across a bridge spanning the frozen canal, and continued far outside the city. It snaked a rocky shoreline, billowing smoke high above snow-covered pines, till it arrived in the village of Stonewick. The letters were sorted once more and placed into the back of a mail truck. The truck puttered off into a thick pine forest, slid beneath a crooked wrought-iron gate, and entered a clearing where stood, at the edge of a cliff, Raven Wood Boarding School.
(#ud0e1fc92-607b-5cde-bad6-245e1f65b69a)
CHAPTER (#ulink_4da24a2f-f851-594a-8370-4662f9a47d5d)
ONE (#ulink_4da24a2f-f851-594a-8370-4662f9a47d5d)
♦ RAVEN WOOD (#ulink_4da24a2f-f851-594a-8370-4662f9a47d5d) ♦
Archer couldn’t sleep. He stretched a frozen hand out of bed and fiddled with the radiator knob, but it was no use. Like many things at Raven Wood, the heating was terrible.
Across the room, his roommate, Benjamin Birthwhistle, was snoring loudly.
Keeping his blanket pulled tight about him, Archer tiptoed to his desk and stared out his drafty window. Morning snow was falling onto the ocean waves, breaking against rocks. It wasn’t exactly a cheery view, but Archer liked it. That ragged coastline connected him all the way back to Rosewood.
He grabbed a pen from his desk and put another X on his calendar. “One day left,” he mumbled.
The train for Rosewood would leave tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow he’d be reunited with Oliver and Adélaïde. But would anyone else be waiting for him? Archer’s parents hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left for Raven Wood, which didn’t surprise him. But during his two and half months at the school, he hadn’t heard from his grandparents either. He hadn’t heard a word since they’d sent him a chunk of iceberg in the post. Were they already inside Helmsley House? Archer didn’t know. And not knowing made him anxious.
Behind him, Benjamin stopped snoring. Archer glanced over his shoulder.
“Why are you up so early, Archer?” Benjamin asked, blinking at him sleepily.
“I was too cold. I couldn’t sleep.”
Benjamin stuck his feet out from beneath the blankets. They were twice the size they should have been.
“Your feet are swollen,” Archer said, sitting down at his desk. “Did the spider come back? Did it bite you?”
Benjamin grinned and shook his head.
The night before, the two boys had gone to war against a large spider that had crawled into their room. Archer threw a lamp, three books, and to Benjamin’s horror, a potted plant, but the eight-legged fiend had escaped unharmed.
“They’re just socks,” Benjamin said over a yawn. “I’ve got four pairs on.” He rubbed his long, tousled hair. A leaf fell out. “But I wonder where that spider came from.”
Archer thought it was obvious. Benjamin’s side of the room was filled with plants, and Benjamin’s desk was barely visible beneath them. They were strange plants—plants unlike any he’d seen growing in the Willow Street gardens.
Archer leaned over to poke at one on Benjamin’s desk. “This one looks like it would sprout spiders.”
“Is that my bog weed?” Benjamin asked. “Or the didactus that sprouted yesterday? If it has pink speckled leaves, then it’s pugwort.”
Archer had learned enough during his time as Benjamin’s roommate to know the plant he was pointing to wasn’t any of those. This one had long, spiraling stems covered in bumps, as though something inside was trying to get out.
“Oh,” Benjamin said, stumbling stiffly to his desk. “That’s my Paria glavra. Be careful with that one. It can be a bit hostile.”
“Hostile?” Archer repeated, and quickly withdrew his hand.
Benjamin opened his notebook and inspected the plant more closely. “Like most Parias, the glavras starts off harmless,” he explained. “But eventually it will become dangerous. Deadly, even.”
Archer threw off his blanket and hurried to the corner sink to wash his hands. The last thing he wanted was to die before meeting his grandparents for the first time.
“The thorns haven’t sprouted,” Benjamin called, measuring the bumps with a pen. “The thorns are what you need to watch out for.”
Thorns or not, Archer should have learned by now not to touch plants unless Benjamin said it was safe. He soaped his hands as Benjamin noted growths and observations in his notebook. It was almost like homework. Benjamin had once told him that if he knew what plants could do, he’d understand. But all Archer thought was that, in a funny way, Benjamin’s long, leafy hair and tall, sticklike body made him resemble one of his seedlings.
“I want to go to the mail room after breakfast,” Archer said, drying his hands and shoving his feet into his boots.
“Again?” Benjamin replied, struggling to pull a third sweater over his head. “That’s why you couldn’t sleep, isn’t it? It’s not the cold. It’s your grandparents.”
Benjamin was right. Archer hadn’t slept for the past week.
“Maybe they finally wrote.”
Benjamin sat on his bed to tie his shoelaces, staring as Archer pressed his ear to the door. Not many students attended Raven Wood, but when the few converged in the dusty, dimly lit corridors, they became something of a thundering horde.
“Let’s wait a moment,” Archer said. “You don’t want to get trampled again.”
“That was terrible,” Benjamin replied, laughing. He pulled a collared shirt from his trunk. “Look. The footprint still won’t wash out!”
Raven Wood students were kept to a very tight schedule, and there were steep consequences for being late. Archer was often late, but he never got into trouble.
Benjamin tossed the shirt back into his trunk. “You’re lucky Mr. Churnick likes you.”
♦ FORTUNATE CONSEQUENCES ♦
Mr. Churnick was Raven’s Wood’s head of school, a somewhat crusty and thickset man whose overgrown teeth were often speckled with bits of cheesecake. Mr. Churnick was terribly fond of cheesecake. He was also quite fond of Archer, which was surprising considering his welcome when Archer had first arrived.
“I’m not in the habit of allowing troubled children into my school, Archer Helmsley. But as it is, Raven Wood has fallen on hard times. So against my better judgment, there you sit.”
Archer’s mother hadn’t spared the slightest detail in listing every offense he’d ever committed. It had all been there in Mr. Churnick’s file, from talking to taxidermied animals to the tiger incident.
“Set tigers lose in a museum, did you?” he’d grumbled. “Nearly got hundreds killed! But your antics only claimed one victim. That’s fortunate. Yes, it says here that you seriously damaged one Mrs. Murk—Mrs. Murkley? You took down Mrs. Murkley? But you’re so… and she’s so—you flattened her with A POLAR BEAR!”
Mrs. Murkley was a former Raven Wood instructor who’d ended up becoming Archer’s instructor at the Willow Academy. Archer, Oliver, and Adélaïde hadn’t been sure what had prompted Mrs. Murkley’s departure from Raven Wood, but knowing her to be a brutish terror, they’d all agreed it must have been something bad—maybe as bad as crushing a teacher beneath a polar bear.
“De-tusked the ol’ boar, did you, Archer?” Mr. Churnick had erupted into laughter and nearly fallen off his chair. “Justice has finally been served! By you! But how did I not hear about this sooner? Good news always travels slower than bad news, I suppose.”
Archer hadn’t understood Mr. Churnick’s mirth at the time. And Benjamin had been no help in figuring it out. Benjamin was a temporary boarder. He only came to Raven Wood when his father, a travel guide, went away for long periods. (Benjamin never mentioned anything about his mother. Archer wasn’t sure if he had one.) But eventually Archer pieced together the Murkley tale.
Though the exact details varied from source to source, all accounts followed the same basic premise: a boy named Phillip had fallen four stories from the Raven Wood rooftops and would have died had he not landed in a topiary shaped like a raven. It was quite a scandal. And Mrs. Murkley was at the center of it. Nothing could be proven, but most parents withdrew their children from the institution, leaving Raven Wood on the brink of bankruptcy. And Raven Wood looked it. The halls were filthy. Lights were always going out. The gardens were overgrown. And that’s to say nothing of the food.
♦ BENJAMIN’S LETTER ♦
Archer and Benjamin scurried into the dining hall and took their usual spot in the corner. A miserable server plopped bowls before them with a surprising thud. Archer pried his spoon out and studied the white, clumpy slop.
“The oatmeal’s getting worse,” Benjamin groaned, staring despairingly at his bowl.
“I didn’t think that was possible,” Archer said, licking his spoon and quickly wishing he hadn’t. “Now it tastes like cardboard and glue.”
“And maybe a pound of lard?” Benjamin suggested.
Two large hands gripped Archer’s shoulder.
“Morning, boys.” Mr. Churnick was making his morning rounds. “Goodness, Archer! You’re an ice cube! Sorry about the heating cuts. I’m doing the best I can. Must find ways to save money.” Mr. Churnick leaned over Archer’s shoulder to inspect their bowls. “At least the food has improved a bit.”
“Would you mind if we skipped breakfast?” Archer asked, dropping his spoon into the bowl. “I want to go to the mailroom.”
Mr. Churnick glanced around at the other students and nodded. “Quickly now. Don’t make a show of it.”
“I actually had a question for you, Archer,” Mr. Churnick continued as they made for the mailroom. “It’s about that Willow Academy. What’s your opinion of it?”
Despite the fact that the school had expelled him, Archer had nothing against it. “It was fine before Mrs. Murkley showed up.”
“That’s what I’m curious about, Archer. I was discussing some important business with Mrs. Thimbleton, the head of school, but she wouldn’t explain why she hired that festering oyster after I fired her. The decision was questionable at best, and I was hoping to get an opinion on the school from someone else.”
“You could talk to Miss Whitewood,” Archer suggested. “She’s the librarian. She’s very nice.”
“Thanks for the tip, Archer. Now, try not to be late to class again. I think the teachers are catching on that your detention slips keep vanishing from my office.”
Mr. Churnick slapped him on the back with a force that nearly sent him through a wall, and left the boys at the mailroom. Raven Wood’s mailroom was a crevice of a space, dingy like everything else, and encircled with wooden slots. Benjamin rushed in before Archer and bumped into a small table. The stack of newspapers on top of it tumbled into an empty mail cart. Archer hurried to his slot, spotting a letter and two packages.
“Is that from your grandparents?” Benjamin asked, sounding almost nervous as he pulled a letter from his own slot.
“No, it’s from Oliver and Adélaïde.” Archer scratched a hot chocolate stain on the envelope. “But Mrs. Glub sent more pastries.”
Benjamin pretended to swoon.
Oliver’s mother was arguably the greatest pastry chef in Rosewood. And Archer was certain he’d have starved by now had it not been for her frequent care packages. Benjamin was equally grateful.
“Are both boxes for us?”
“One’s a cheesecake for Mr. Churnick.” Archer inspected the dampened box. “I hope it didn’t get too smushed.”
He slid it back into his slot and grabbed his letter and his other package, and they made for the school’s front entrance. Archer pulled a coat from a hook and handed a second to Benjamin. They were adult coats that went well past their knees, but they didn’t care. Benjamin followed him through a heavy oak door and down a stone walkway toward the sea.
“I don’t understand why I haven’t heard from my grandparents,” Archer said, nearly slipping on an icy stone. “Or my parents. No one’s saying anything.”
“At least you’re going home tomorrow.” Benjamin sighed. “I’ll be eating that slop on Christmas morning.”
Archer grimaced. Benjamin’s father was still traveling and he’d have to spend the entire winter holiday at Raven Wood. Archer didn’t know much about Mr. Birthwhistle, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d heard the name before. He’d told Benjamin as much, and Benjamin guessed he’d only imagined hearing it.
When they reached the seating area overlooking the sea, Archer used his extra-long coat sleeve to wipe snow off a bench, and they sat down. He opened the pastry box and handed Benjamin a walnut crumble muffin. Benjamin held it like a sacred object. Archer laughed and tore open his letter.
Dear Archer,
I hope you’re doing well at Raven Wood. Things are still fine here. Well, Oliver has a black eye. He got into a fight with Charlie Brimble at the Button Factory. Charlie was making jokes about you and your family again so Oliver jumped in.
I think Oliver wanted to tell you about our new neighbor, a girl named Kana Misra, so I’ll let him do that. But I think she likes him! (He gets angry every time I say that.)
I haven’t seen your grandparents. But everyone in Rosewood is talking about them. Have you heard anything? I’m guessing they’ll be home soon. And so will you.
We miss you,
Adélaïde
Dear Archer,
Charlie Brimble was making jokes about you at school. Adélaïde went after him, and she dragged me into it. I’m not sure what happened, but somehow I’m the one who got punched. Adélaïde’s always had a death wish, but I think it’s getting worse.
I forgot to tell you in my last letter—we have a new neighbor. She moved into Mrs. Murkley’s old house. Diptikana Misra. I’ve never had a class with her, but she’s that girl with dark hair and light blue fish eyes that never seem to see what they’re looking at. Anyway, she’s starting to creep me out. I’ve caught her staring at me a lot lately. She might even be spying on me. Adélaïde thinks something different, but I don’t want to talk about that.
Safe travels,
Oliver
P.S. Our Christmas party is the night you get back. Your father told mine you’d be there.
P.P.S. I have some news about DuttonLick’s sweetshop. But I’ve run out of room here, so I’ll tell you when I see you.
Archer could barely wait to see his friends again.
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Glub when I get home,” he said, folding the letters and tucking them back into the envelope. “I’ll send you as many pastries as I can while I’m in Rosewood. And I was thinking, if I leave most of my things here and go home with an empty trunk, I could bring it back filled with—”
“I’m leaving tomorrow too,” Benjamin said, lowering his letter. “My father cut his trip short. He’s on his way back to Rosewood.”
“Does that mean you won’t be coming back to Raven Wood after the break?”
Benjamin nodded. He would return to his school in Rosewood, a small private institution called Drabblefort Academy. Archer was both upset and a little jealous. He secretly hoped his parents would let him stay in Rosewood after the winter holiday, but he felt certain his mother wouldn’t hear of it. And now his only friend at Raven Wood was leaving for good? For Benjamin, at least, this should have been good news, but Benjamin didn’t look pleased about it. He almost looked sick.
