was just there, but he’s gone now!”
“So Gandalf’s showed up. Good eyes, Will! Ah! Here it is!” Favian pulled out a fat book with a glossy picture of a phoenix on the cover. “Why don’t you look in here first?”
Will sat on the dusty floor and thumbed through the book. There were no pictures, and the type was tiny. An extensive index at the back didn’t even include griffins. For the next hour, he skimmed through the tables of contents and indexes of dozens of books. He found lots of illustrations of griffins. The best was a griffin standing on top of a cliff, its huge wings stretched to the sky.
His eyes drifted over the shelves. A small scrap of paper was tucked between two books. He pulled it out. Someone had written on it in big block letters:
THE GRIFFIN OF DARKWOOD???
Somebody else wanted to know about the Griffin of Darkwood? But who?
Will hurried to the front of the shop.
“D–a–n–d–a. No! It doesn’t work!” Favian looked up from his paper full of scribbled letters. “Find what you were looking for?”
“No."
“Madeleine De Luca’s been looking at books about magical creatures too. She’s been in and out of the shop for a week.”
Madeleine De Luca! Could she have left the paper?
“I need to ask her something,” Will said, “but I don’t know where she lives.”
“Number 40 Silk Alley. She lives in the back of Carta da Lettere. It’s a stationery shop.”
“I’ll go right now! See ya later.’
“You bet,” said Favian.
Chapter Twenty-One
Madeleine De Luca
Carta da Lettere was tucked away at one end of Silk Alley, a narrow street behind the square. The shop window was dark and a sign that said SORRY WE’RE CLOSED hung on the glass door.
Will pressed his face against the glass. A dim pinkish light glowed from a tall Tiffany lamp. A shadow moved across the back of the shop. He knocked on the door. He was sure that someone was standing there, frozen in the darkness. He knocked a second time, harder.
The shadow moved again and the door opened a crack. Madeleine de Luca’s white face and round glasses peered out at him. “Can’t you read? Go away!”
“Please. Just let me in for a minute.”
“My parents aren’t here. I said go away.”
“Don’t shut the door!”
Fear flashed across Madeleine’s face.
“The Griffin of Darkwood. Does that mean anything to you?” asked Will.
Madeleine gasped. She opened the door just wide enough for Will to slip in.
“We’ll go in the back,” she whispered. She led Will through the dimly lit shop, past a display of old-fashioned glass ink bottles and quill pens in brass stands. They went into a little room behind the shop. It was stifling hot and crammed with spindly furniture. Madeleine twisted a strand of her long red hair. “What do you want?”
Will took the scrap of paper out of his pocket. “I think you wrote this and left it in the bookstore.”
“What if I did? Is that a crime?”
“Someone gave me a piece of old tapestry. It says ‘The Griffin of Darkwood’ on it. I think it was my grandfather’s.”
Madeleine’s mouth fell open. “Have you got any more pieces of the tapestry?”
“No. If you could tell me anything about the Griffin of Darkwood, it might help.”
“You better come with me.”
Her bedroom had a narrow bed with a black bedspread, black curtains, a round table spread with cards and a poster on the wall of a man dressed in black, riding a black horse. Seriously spooky , thought Will.
“It’s in the cards,” said Madeleine.
Will stepped over to the table. Cards were laid out on the table in three rows and other cards were stacked to one side. On the front of each card there was a detailed coloured picture and a title. Will forgot about Madeleine. He was drawn into the cards with their beautiful pictures. He read some of the names out loud, “Nine of Swords, Two of Wands, Queen of Pentacles, The Fool, Wheel of Fortune, the Joker, the Magician, Death.” The picture on
“So Gandalf’s showed up. Good eyes, Will! Ah! Here it is!” Favian pulled out a fat book with a glossy picture of a phoenix on the cover. “Why don’t you look in here first?”
Will sat on the dusty floor and thumbed through the book. There were no pictures, and the type was tiny. An extensive index at the back didn’t even include griffins. For the next hour, he skimmed through the tables of contents and indexes of dozens of books. He found lots of illustrations of griffins. The best was a griffin standing on top of a cliff, its huge wings stretched to the sky.
His eyes drifted over the shelves. A small scrap of paper was tucked between two books. He pulled it out. Someone had written on it in big block letters:
THE GRIFFIN OF DARKWOOD???
Somebody else wanted to know about the Griffin of Darkwood? But who?
Will hurried to the front of the shop.
“D–a–n–d–a. No! It doesn’t work!” Favian looked up from his paper full of scribbled letters. “Find what you were looking for?”
“No."
“Madeleine De Luca’s been looking at books about magical creatures too. She’s been in and out of the shop for a week.”
Madeleine De Luca! Could she have left the paper?
“I need to ask her something,” Will said, “but I don’t know where she lives.”
“Number 40 Silk Alley. She lives in the back of Carta da Lettere. It’s a stationery shop.”
“I’ll go right now! See ya later.’
“You bet,” said Favian.
Chapter Twenty-One
Madeleine De Luca
Carta da Lettere was tucked away at one end of Silk Alley, a narrow street behind the square. The shop window was dark and a sign that said SORRY WE’RE CLOSED hung on the glass door.
Will pressed his face against the glass. A dim pinkish light glowed from a tall Tiffany lamp. A shadow moved across the back of the shop. He knocked on the door. He was sure that someone was standing there, frozen in the darkness. He knocked a second time, harder.
The shadow moved again and the door opened a crack. Madeleine de Luca’s white face and round glasses peered out at him. “Can’t you read? Go away!”
“Please. Just let me in for a minute.”
“My parents aren’t here. I said go away.”
“Don’t shut the door!”
Fear flashed across Madeleine’s face.
“The Griffin of Darkwood. Does that mean anything to you?” asked Will.
Madeleine gasped. She opened the door just wide enough for Will to slip in.
“We’ll go in the back,” she whispered. She led Will through the dimly lit shop, past a display of old-fashioned glass ink bottles and quill pens in brass stands. They went into a little room behind the shop. It was stifling hot and crammed with spindly furniture. Madeleine twisted a strand of her long red hair. “What do you want?”
Will took the scrap of paper out of his pocket. “I think you wrote this and left it in the bookstore.”
“What if I did? Is that a crime?”
“Someone gave me a piece of old tapestry. It says ‘The Griffin of Darkwood’ on it. I think it was my grandfather’s.”
Madeleine’s mouth fell open. “Have you got any more pieces of the tapestry?”
“No. If you could tell me anything about the Griffin of Darkwood, it might help.”
“You better come with me.”
Her bedroom had a narrow bed with a black bedspread, black curtains, a round table spread with cards and a poster on the wall of a man dressed in black, riding a black horse. Seriously spooky , thought Will.
“It’s in the cards,” said Madeleine.
Will stepped over to the table. Cards were laid out on the table in three rows and other cards were stacked to one side. On the front of each card there was a detailed coloured picture and a title. Will forgot about Madeleine. He was drawn into the cards with their beautiful pictures. He read some of the names out loud, “Nine of Swords, Two of Wands, Queen of Pentacles, The Fool, Wheel of Fortune, the Joker, the Magician, Death.” The picture on
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