Return to Groosham Grange by Anthony Horowitz

something hit him on the side of the cheek. He rubbed the skin with the tips of his fingers. He had been hit by a pebble and a scattering of dust, but he was unhurt. He squinted up in the direction of the sound. One wall of Groosham Grange loomed high above him, a gray gargoyle jutting out at the corner. There was a crack in the brickwork. It was only a small crack, zigzagging horizontally under the gargoyle, but David was sure it hadn’t been there before. It looked too fresh, the edges pink against the gray surface of the bricks. It was no more than four inches long. It was a crack, that was all.
    But even as David lowered his head there was another soft rattle and a second shower of dust. He looked up again and saw that the crack had lengthened, curving up around the gargoyle. At the same time a second crack had formed a few inches below. Even as he watched, a few pieces of mortar detached themselves from the wall and tumbled down to the earth below. And now there were three cracks, the longest about six feet and perhaps a half inch wide. The gargoyle was surrounded by them. Its bulging eyes and twisted mouth almost looked afraid.
    Suddenly David knew. He remembered the verse:
    For if the Grail is carried here
Then Groosham Grange will disappear
    The disappearance of Groosham Grange had begun.
    The Unholy Grail had already left the island.
    The question was, had Vincent gone with it? David knew that he had to find the other boy fast. How far away was Canterbury? He had no doubt that the Grail was already on its way there. Perhaps it was already too late.
    But with the onrush of panic came another thought. He had forgotten to look in the one place where he was most likely to find Vincent, the one place that had been tied in with the mystery from the start: the East Tower. Even if the Grail had gone, Vincent might be hiding out there, and if he could just find Vincent, he might yet be able to recapture the Grail. David broke into a run. As he went, a fourth, larger crack opened up in the wall just beside his head.
    He reached the door of the tower and without stopping to think, kicked it open and ran in. After the brightness of the afternoon light, the darkness inside the building was total. For about five seconds David was completely blind and in that time he realized three things.
    First, that Vincent had been there recently. There was a smell in the air, the same smell that David had noticed the night he had nearly been killed.
    Second, that he should have gone in more cautiously and allowed his eyes time to get used to the darkness.
    And third, that he was not alone.
    The hand that reached out and grabbed him by the throat was invisible. Before he could utter a sound, a second hand clamped itself over his mouth. This hand was holding a pad of material soaked in something that smelled of rotting fruit and alcohol. And as David choked and struggled and slipped into unconsciousness, he thought to himself that the hand was very big, surely far too big to belong to Vincent.
    But if it wasn’t Vincent, who on earth could it be?

Vincent
    D avid’s arms, wrists and shoulders were hurting. It was the pain that woke him—that and someone calling his name. He opened his eyes and found himself hunched up on the floor with his back against the wall of a room that he recognized. He was in the upper chamber of the East Tower. Somebody had knocked him out, carried him upstairs, tied him up and left him there.
    But who?
    All along he had been certain that Vincent King was his secret enemy and that it had been Vincent who was plotting to steal the Grail. Now, at last, he knew that he had been wrong. For there was Vincent right opposite him, also tied up, his hair for once in disarray and an ugly bruise on the side of his face. Jill was sitting next to him, in a similar state. She was the one calling to him.
    David straightened himself. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m awake.”
    He tried to separate his wrists but it was