and then peered out a window. “Mr. Cherry just left. The coast is clear.”
Will retrieved the dungeon key from its hiding place in his trunk.
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Thom. “I’ll wait here. I’ll be the guard in case he comes back.”
He flopped on the bed and Peaches leapt up beside him. Will got his torch and he and Emma set off.
“Don’t blame me if he kills you!” called Thom.
Chapter Twenty
A Clue in the Dungeon
“Mr. Cherry’s smashed tons of bricks!” said Emma.
“But he’s given up.” Will scanned the cobwebby dungeon. “He’s taken the tools away. He must be going to look somewhere else.”
“Why?” Emma frowned. “What’s he after?”
“That's what we have to find out.” Will took one last look around and shuddered. It was horrible to imagine the prisoners’ screams and the duke trapped in the hole in the ground.
“Wait a sec,” said Emma. “Shine the light over there in that corner. I think I saw something.”
Will turned the torch.
“What’s this?” Emma bent down and picked up something on top of a pile of broken bricks. “It’s your postcard!”
“What? Let me see.”
Emma passed him a slightly crumpled postcard. He studied it in disbelief. It was the picture of the silver stag. He turned it over and read the inscription on the back. Stag in the Forest, 1602, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
“Mr. Cherry must have dropped it,” he said slowly.
“I don’t get it. How did Mr. Cherry get your postcard?”
“I don’t know.” Will felt sick at the thought of Mr. Cherry poking through his things in the tower. “I’m going back to check.”
When they got back to the tower, Will went straight to the bag from The Winking Cat and dumped it out on the bed. Both postcards fell out.
“Mine’s still here,” he said, filled with relief and confusion. “Mr. Cherry must have bought one too. Why would he want a picture of an old tapestry?”
No one could think of an answer. Will stared at the matching postcards. It was an important clue, he was positive, but he had no idea what it meant.
They spent the rest of the morning searching through empty rooms and passageways for the secret passage. Will ran out to the shed and got a hammer, and they tapped on walls and pressed against wood panels. They discovered a library and spent a discouraging hour pulling dusty books with dull titles off the shelves and peeking behind.
Will tried to find his way to the guard’s walk so he could show his friends the long drop off to the river below, but he got hopelessly lost.
“Listen,” said Thom once. “Do you hear someone crying?”
“It sounds like a boy,” said Emma.
“The ghost!” said Will.
They abandoned their hunt for the secret passage and looked for the ghost instead, but every time they opened a door, certain they had found him, the sobbing moved somewhere else.
“It’s no use,” said Will finally. “We can’t find the secret passageway or the ghost!”
They separated outside the castle. Thom set off across the rocky valley in pursuit of grasshoppers and caterpillars for Minnie. Will walked with Emma and Peaches as far as The Winking Cat and continued on his own to the bookstore. The Ex Libris sign rattled in the wind. He opened the door and went inside. At the jingle of the bell, Favian looked up from his newspaper.
“Hey,” said Will.
“You look like a man on a mission.”
“I am, sort of. I need a book about griffins.”
“Magical creatures would be a good place to start,” said Favian.
“I’m trying to find out about something called the Griffin of Darkwood.”
“Never heard of it. Let’s see. Maybe a book about famous magical creatures in history.”
Favian and Will squeezed up and down the aisles while Favian mused, “Let me see. It’s around here somewhere.”
“Did you see that?” asked Will suddenly.
“What? Perhaps it’s with the –”
“Gandalf! He
Will retrieved the dungeon key from its hiding place in his trunk.
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Thom. “I’ll wait here. I’ll be the guard in case he comes back.”
He flopped on the bed and Peaches leapt up beside him. Will got his torch and he and Emma set off.
“Don’t blame me if he kills you!” called Thom.
Chapter Twenty
A Clue in the Dungeon
“Mr. Cherry’s smashed tons of bricks!” said Emma.
“But he’s given up.” Will scanned the cobwebby dungeon. “He’s taken the tools away. He must be going to look somewhere else.”
“Why?” Emma frowned. “What’s he after?”
“That's what we have to find out.” Will took one last look around and shuddered. It was horrible to imagine the prisoners’ screams and the duke trapped in the hole in the ground.
“Wait a sec,” said Emma. “Shine the light over there in that corner. I think I saw something.”
Will turned the torch.
“What’s this?” Emma bent down and picked up something on top of a pile of broken bricks. “It’s your postcard!”
“What? Let me see.”
Emma passed him a slightly crumpled postcard. He studied it in disbelief. It was the picture of the silver stag. He turned it over and read the inscription on the back. Stag in the Forest, 1602, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
“Mr. Cherry must have dropped it,” he said slowly.
“I don’t get it. How did Mr. Cherry get your postcard?”
“I don’t know.” Will felt sick at the thought of Mr. Cherry poking through his things in the tower. “I’m going back to check.”
When they got back to the tower, Will went straight to the bag from The Winking Cat and dumped it out on the bed. Both postcards fell out.
“Mine’s still here,” he said, filled with relief and confusion. “Mr. Cherry must have bought one too. Why would he want a picture of an old tapestry?”
No one could think of an answer. Will stared at the matching postcards. It was an important clue, he was positive, but he had no idea what it meant.
They spent the rest of the morning searching through empty rooms and passageways for the secret passage. Will ran out to the shed and got a hammer, and they tapped on walls and pressed against wood panels. They discovered a library and spent a discouraging hour pulling dusty books with dull titles off the shelves and peeking behind.
Will tried to find his way to the guard’s walk so he could show his friends the long drop off to the river below, but he got hopelessly lost.
“Listen,” said Thom once. “Do you hear someone crying?”
“It sounds like a boy,” said Emma.
“The ghost!” said Will.
They abandoned their hunt for the secret passage and looked for the ghost instead, but every time they opened a door, certain they had found him, the sobbing moved somewhere else.
“It’s no use,” said Will finally. “We can’t find the secret passageway or the ghost!”
They separated outside the castle. Thom set off across the rocky valley in pursuit of grasshoppers and caterpillars for Minnie. Will walked with Emma and Peaches as far as The Winking Cat and continued on his own to the bookstore. The Ex Libris sign rattled in the wind. He opened the door and went inside. At the jingle of the bell, Favian looked up from his newspaper.
“Hey,” said Will.
“You look like a man on a mission.”
“I am, sort of. I need a book about griffins.”
“Magical creatures would be a good place to start,” said Favian.
“I’m trying to find out about something called the Griffin of Darkwood.”
“Never heard of it. Let’s see. Maybe a book about famous magical creatures in history.”
Favian and Will squeezed up and down the aisles while Favian mused, “Let me see. It’s around here somewhere.”
“Did you see that?” asked Will suddenly.
“What? Perhaps it’s with the –”
“Gandalf! He
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