Twelve-year-old Carmen has a secret: she can talk to her cat Grim. But the powerful Brotherhood has banned pets, and the penalty is death.
Ward is the most wanted boy in the world. The only thing standing between him and the hangman's noose is maste...
When something is on your mind you assume everyone else is preoccupied with it too. So it was with Carmen as they skirted Xandra Wood on the return trip from Snapper's.
"You know, I have seen something like that before," she said.
"Like what?" Slops said.
"When we first went there Rupe. Remember? I don't reckon he wanted me to see it, now that I think about it."
"Who?" Ward said.
"Corvus."
"I still don't know what she's talking about," Slops confessed to Ward.
"What are you talking about?" Ward asked Carmen.
"That piece of parchment Snapper showed us."
"Corvus has some of that parchment?"
Carmen rolled her eyes. "Didn't I just say that?"
"Maybe I should ask him about it," Slops said.
"It'll make him supersuspicious," Mildew said loftily. Slops deflated.
"Should we tell Nick?" Ward said.
"I – don't think so," Carmen said, glancing warily at Mildew. "I mean, shouldn't we wait until we've got something concrete?"
Mildew shrugged. "Doesn't seem like much to go off of. I'd tell him if he arksed me, but I wouldn't waste his time with it otherwise."
"Okay, we'll -" Ward stopped mid-sentence.
"What?" Mildew said.
"Sssh," Ward peered into Xandra Wood. "I heard someone talking. In there."
"It is haunted," Carmen said.
"That's a load of gammon," Mildew said. "Come on Ward, let's go take a gander."
"There's no way Leif'll go in there," Slops said.
"You two stay and keep watch then," Mildew said, and without hesitation walked into the wood. To Ward's surprise Grim followed her. Ward looked at Slops and Carmen, shrugged, and followed Grim.
The wood was dark. No bird sang. A breeze swayed the treetops far above Ward's head. He looked back the way they had come, but the wood had already closed in around them. And it hadn't been his imagination – he could clearly hear voices from somewhere up ahead.
When he caught up to Mildew she was crouched behind a tree stump, peering around it into a clearing where a man and a boy stood. Ward didn't recognise the man, whose hair and face were as red as a fire hydrant, and whose pinstriped waistcoat bulged outwards above stilt-like but immaculately-trousered legs.
"Where shall we meet next?" he said.
"Nice (unprintable word) try," the boy said with a laugh. "Don't worry, I'll letcha know the usual way. Well?"
"It's Flip," Ward whispered.
"I know, you idiot," Mildew hissed back. "Got eyes haven't I?"
Meanwhile the man had taken a gold aur from his waistcoat. He didn't immediately hand it over, but held it at eye height, allowing the shafts of sunlight coming down through the canopy to flash upon it. "And you're quite sure you don't know where he is?" he said.
"I've said my piece you (unprintable word). Time to pay up." Wrinkler drew a knife from his pocket, flicked it open, juggling it from hand to hand like a hot potato.
The man laughed. He tossed the coin to the ground and walked away. He didn't look back.
Wrinkler remained in the clearing for a while, watching and listening. Finally, he folded the knife and returned it to his pocket, picked up the aur, and moved away south towards the river.
Ward and Mildew looked at each other.
"What was he doing?" Ward said.
"Selling something." She frowned. "Information. I wish we'd heard more."
"Could it've been about Nick?"
Mildew shook her head. "Flip wouldn't peach on Nick for an aur. Not for a whole chest of em. If you arks me it was about someone else."
"Who?"
Mildew just looked at him.
Ward's stomach dropped. "We could front him about it," he said.
"He'd lie. Then he'd have time to warn Blanket."
"Blanket?"
"The man you just seen. Franklin Blanket. Who just happens to be the uncle of them two out there." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.
"Does he work for the State?"
"Yeh. But plenty'a people work for the State. Plenty'a them are prolly alright people, that didn't have a choice."
Ward waited for her to continue, but she said no more. He had a stab in the dark. "Did he – your parents?"
"Not my parents." Mildew looked away. "Look, you can't tell anybody about this."
"I promise."
She drew a long breath in through her nose. "Lightfinger wasn't born dumb. They made him watch it. He's never said boo since."
Ward felt suddenly nauseous.
"Lightie's folks were friends of the Blankets once," Mildew continued. "But the Blankets peached on em, and they were hanged."
"Does Flip know?"
"Prolly. Him and Lightie are like this." She entwined two fingers. "There's something going on anyhow. We gotta tell the Kidsman."
She stood, brushed the dirt off her knees, and headed back out of the wood. Ward and Grim followed.
"What'd you find?" Carmen said as Ward and Mildew emerged from the trees.
"Nothing," Ward said.
"But those voices -" Slops said.
"Maybe there are ghosts in there after all,"Ward said. "Come on, let's go."
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