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...
"Nick was probably just been getting us out of the way," Carmen said as they ran past Killing Field.
Slops's face screwed up.
Carmen's mind was racing through the possibilities: that Ludwig was mistaken, that he had confused her parents with someone else's, that it was a trap set by Corvus. If not, her parents would die this afternoon.
Nick had sent them to fetch Grandmere and bring her to the Derricks. He had given no explanation. Carmen, delirious with fear, had agreed without question. Doing anything was better than doing nothing. It had not surprised her that he knew who Grandmere was – Nick had been friends with Carmen's pere when they were young after all – but she wondered now if Nick was up to date with Grandmere's condition. Carmen failed to see how Grandmere could be of use to anyone.
When they got to Carmen's house they found the Sloopers there. The Sloopers didn't yet know about the scheduled execution. Carmen stood awkwardly by as Mr Slooper scolded Slops for being out all night. Scolding was not something Mr Slooper had ever mastered, and although he began strongly he soon dissolved into tears. He finished by hugging Slops and telling him he was a good boy after all.
"Why are you so out of breath?" Mr. Slooper said.
"We were running," Slops said.
Mr. Slooper smiled. When I was a boy I'd run everywhere too. This one time, I ran all the way to -"
"Why don't you go home and rest, Uncle Harry?" Carmen said. "Me and Slops'll take care of Grandmere."
"Oh you poor brave thing," said Mrs Slooper, breaking out into freshets.
It took the best efforts of the cousins to convince the Sloopers to leave, the result being that, by the time they got inside, the tempus in the hall showed half past one.
When they knocked on the door of Grandmere Anna's room there was no answer.
"Grandmere?" Slops called.
Carmen pushed the door open.
The old woman sat before the easel, her head on one shoulder. The light from a tall window streamed across the room and picked out the edge of her wool shawl, shafting across the painting she had been working on when she'd
(died)
fallen asleep.
"Grandmere?" Carmen said.
No answer.
"It's me, Carmen. And Rupert."
Grandmere turned around so suddenly that Carmen took an involuntary step backwards. Her eyes were black with fear. She seemed to be looking through Carmen, at something in the far distance.
"Blink," she croaked.
Carmen glanced at Slops, who gave her a frightened look. "Slops, you gotta do something."
"I've never seen her like this."
Grandmere buried her face in her hands.
Slops put his hand on her shoulder. "You have to help us Grandmere."
The old woman slapped the arms of the wheelchair and cackled. It was a long rasping caw like that of an archon. "It's too late!" she shrieked. "He's got the cookies!"
Slops put himself between Grandmere and the painting and pinned her hands to the wheelchair's arms. He put his face close to hers, as if to kiss her. She tried to avoid his eyes.
A look of weary confusion crossed the old woman's face, like the shadow of a bird flying over a field. "Nicky?" she said.
Carmen and Slops looked at each other over Grandmere's shoulder.
Grandmere turned back to the painting. She seemed about to cry.
"Carmen, we've gotta get her there."
"Like this? What good's she going to be?"
"She knows something. Nick wouldn't have sent us if she didn't."
"David," the old woman said suddenly.
"David?" Carmen said.
"Cookies," Grandmere replied.
"This is hopeless," Carmen said. "Let's go."
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