Goodly and Grave in a Deadly Case of Murder. Justine Windsor
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helped him sit up.
“What’s that statue doing over there? Did it bash me over the head? I can’t quite remember.”
Lucy quickly explained what had happened and how she and the graverobber had battled for control of the angel.
“You animated it?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that you made an inanimate object come to life. It’s a very rare skill.”
Lucy wanted to ask more about animation, but this wasn’t the time. Lord Grave had turned as grey as the stone angel. “We should get back to the Hall, sir. You look terrible.”
Lord Grave ignored her concern. “We need to retrieve that book. It’s an important clue,” he said, his voice beginning to sound worryingly slurred.
Lucy snatched up the lantern, which luckily hadn’t gone out. “You stay here. I’ll find it. I think I know roughly where it landed.” Lord Grave didn’t argue, much to Lucy’s surprise. That surprise became apprehension when she realised he had dozed off.
“Stay with him, Bathsheba, I’ll be as quick as I can.” She hurried off, scared that Lord Grave’s injuries were more serious than she’d first thought and that he might die before she found the book and got them all back to Grave Hall.
Lucy’s fears were unfounded, however, and a couple of hours later, she was safely back at Grave Hall and sitting with Lord Percy and Lady Sibyl at the table in the MAAM meeting room. She had managed to retrieve the graverobber’s book after a few minutes of searching and then opened a shortcut back to Grave Hall where Bertie, Lord Percy and Lady Sibyl had been anxiously waiting. They’d helped Lord Grave, who was semi-conscious again, through the shortcut. Mrs Crawley had then carried him up to bed.
Smell was on the table, padding around and sniffing at the book. Lucy had been surprised to find it was simply a blank notebook. She had been expecting it to contain spells or something of the sort. However, the cover was intriguing. It had been damp and muddy when she found it, but Lady Sibyl had carefully cleaned and dried it and now the tiny jewels embedded in its green leather cover gleamed.
The meeting-room door crashed open, making everyone jump. For one wild moment, Lucy expected the murderous angel to burst inside. But instead, the Beguildy twins rushed in.
“Where have you two been?” Lord Percy snapped. “We’ve had a real emergency here.”
“We decided to have dinner with friends. Lady Sibyl’s coachman flew us back as soon as we heard. Is Lord Grave all right? Where is he?” Prudence said breathlessly. The small ship she wore in her piled-up silvery hair had tilted sideways and her cloak was hanging half off one shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Prue,” Lady Sibyl said, patting Prudence’s arm. “He’s safe in bed at the moment, with a rather large bandage round his head. Young Bertie’s with him; the boy won’t let him out of his sight.”
“What happened exactly? Did you make a hash of it, Lucy?” Beguildy asked.
“She couldn’t have made less of a hash of it. Lucy saved Lord Grave’s life and her own,” Lord Percy said sternly. “I’ll explain later. Come and look at this.”
Beguildy looked decidedly pouty as he and Prudence joined everyone else at the table, where Smell was still meandering around the notebook, stopping every now and then to gingerly sniff at it.
“If only my detector hadn’t been broken.” Lord Percy sighed regretfully. The silver pencil-like detector had been smashed to pieces when the angel attacked Lord Grave.
“I don’t need no detector, not with my nose,” Smell replied. “This thing reeks of magic. But not a type of magic I’ve smelled before.”
“What does this mean? Does anyone know?” Prudence asked, pointing to the symbol that decorated the edges of the notebook’s pages in a repeating pattern. It was a snake holding its tail in its mouth.
“The snake ouroboros,” Lord Percy said thoughtfully. “An ancient symbol in alchemy. It can mean a number of things: infinity, creation, destruction.”
Before anyone could ask any questions about the snake ouroboros, the door opened once again. This time, Lord Grave wobbled into the room. He was dressed in his nightshirt, dressing gown and slippers and had a large bandage wrapped round his head. Bertie was hovering anxiously behind him.
Prudence rushed forward to help Lord Grave. He resisted at first, but then leaned on her arm and tottered over to the table where the notebook lay open.
“You should be in bed, Lord Grave!” Prudence said.
“That’s what I told him!” Bertie agreed.
“Too much to do,” Lord Grave said, half falling into the chair that Lord Percy had hastily pulled out for him. “Lucy. Are you all right? You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy said, although in truth she was feeling horribly tired now and was finding it hard to concentrate.
“Now, has anyone any ideas about this notebook?”
Prudence began fussing around Lord Grave. “Your bandage is coming loose, let me just—”
“Prudence!” Lord Grave said a little snappily. Then more gently, he added, “I appreciate the concern, Prue, my dear. But there’s no need for it. I’m perfectly well.”
Prudence looked rather upset. As she dejectedly sat down next to her brother, her gaze met Lucy’s and they exchanged sympathetic smiles, although Prudence’s was slightly tremulous round the edges.
“Smell is certain that the notebook has magical properties,” Lord Percy said. “But we haven’t progressed any further than that.”
Lord Grave rubbed his forehead wearily, as though his head ached. Which was quite possible given he had recently been clonked over the head by a stone fist. “I think we should call in Angus Reedy.”
“Good idea,” Lord Percy said. “An experienced bookbinder like him should be able to give us some insight. I could send him one of my chits?”
“Yes, thank you. I believe he’s on his way back from France, but the chit should still find him.”
Lucy was very curious to find out what a chit was, so she watched carefully as Lord Percy went over to a writing bureau that stood against the wall next to the window. He opened it, took out a sheet of paper from one of the numerous drawers inside, and wrote a message on it, before rolling it up. He then carried it over to the window, which he unfastened. He placed the tube of paper in the palm of his hand and spoke to it. “Angus Reedy. Believed to be travelling back to England from France.”
There was a buzzing noise. The paper trembled and sprouted two tiny wings. It flew out of Lord Percy’s hand and buzzed off out of the window.
“That’s amazing!” Lucy said. Although she was becoming more and more used to seeing magic now, much of it still surprised and delighted her.
“Another of Lord Percy’s clever contraptions,” Lady Sibyl said, looking fondly at him.
“It really is excellent,” Lucy said to Lord Percy, whose face creased into a rare smile.
“I suppose there’s not much more to be done tonight,” Lord Grave said, bracing his hands against the arms of his chair and easing himself upright. “I suggest we