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...
He dove back behind the couch. He heard the front door open, muffled voices, heavy footsteps in the hall. Two pairs of shoes clopped down the hall and upstairs.
A silky voice said: "May I have a seat?"
"Please," said Mr. Carmichael.
The sofa screamed as Tamerlane lowered himself onto it. Ward could hear the Brother's short breath and smell his sandalwood perfume.
"What are they doing?" Mrs. Carmichael said.
"Searching your house. Please remain here."
The silence that followed was broken by something crashing to the floor upstairs and Grandmere Anna crying out.
"Sit down Mrs. Carmichael," Tamerlane said. "They will not hurt her."
There was a long silence in the room. Occasionally something thumped upstairs.
"What's your name, child?" said Tamerlane.
"Carmen."
"How old are you?"
"Twelve, sir."
"Please, call me Brother." He shifted on the sofa and Ward held his breath. "I saw a black fel outside on the street," Tamerlane said. He let this hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "The ancients believed the appearance of a fel of this colour foretold tragedy. Did you know this?"
"No Brother."
"I would be surprised if you did. They had the most peculiar beliefs, didn't they?"
The question didn't seem to require an answer. The room grew silent again.
The silence was eventually broken by the sound of two men descending the staircase. "We found this bag on the girl's bed," one of them said.
"Please empty it on the table," Tamerlane said.
There was a rustling, and the sound of several objects being placed on a glass tabletop.
"What's that?" Tamerlane said suddenly.
"It looks like -" the other man began.
"It's a hairbrush," Carmen said weakly. "My pere made it for me. Twist it."
"Huh?"
"Go on. Twist it."
There was a click. "Oh," the man said. "A hairbrush."
"Well, come on," Tamerlane said, "empty the bag."
"That's all there is."
Ward heard the man turn the bag upside down and shake it, and the sound of a few grains of sand pattering down onto the table. He discovered that he was able to breathe again.
"Keep searching," Tamerlane said.
The men went back upstairs.
A shaft of light from the sinking sun crossed the room and picked out motes of dust whirling in the air; Ward watched the dust and willed himself not to sneeze. As the urge passed and the room darkened, he found himself, incredibly, beginning to doze off. Then Tamerlane spoke and he was wide awake again.
"I've been hearing stories, Mr. Carmichael. Of a boy with the Star of Al-Kahf on his foot. Why these whispers?"
"People are superstitious, Brother."
"Do you believe the old stories? That the Sleepers will wake at the End of Days?"
"I think – there's some truth in all stories."
"A wise answer."
The guards re-entered the room.
"We found these in the attic, hidden in the ceiling," one of them said.
Ward heard several objects clatter onto the table.
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