Something powerful is drawing Ward back to Devil's Island. Something he thought he had forgotten. He must evade vicious lighthouse keeper George Jaggles in order to rescue it, but Jaggles will soon be the least of his worries. Because an assassin is...
Ward's physical recovery from whatever had been done with him – he refused to talk about it, and as he showed no visible sign of injury nobody could guess – took about two weeks, but for months afterwards he carried about him a peaky, haunted look, and as people are around those with an illness, his friends were careful with him. He was not the boy who had left them just obe month ago. He had become a stranger. Even then his behaviour had been out of character.
It was some time before any of his friends worked up the courage to ask him directly what had happened: how he had found himself inside the Temple, a place of legend and whispered rumour. But he remained evasive on the subject.
He was clearly agitated about something. As his health improved his agitation seemed to increase. He had gone alone to see Bunker one day, returning in a foul mood. But when Mildew had asked him about it he had shrugged her off.
Carmen's opportunities for speaking to him were limited. As a relative of the Blankets she was not trusted by the Scowerers, and could not enter their world unless accompanied by Ward or Mildew, neither of whom were taking pains to seek her out, preoccupied as they were with the political upheavals underway in their world. At least she assumed this was what Ward was preoccupied with. He seemed preoccupied with something. It certainly wasn't her.
Her parents had not mentioned the boys' release from Bedlam, though they must surely have known about it. Nor had they said anything about her disappearance that night; such a clear and insolent case of disobedience should have brought their wrath down on her – her mere's particularly. A couple of times she had caught them giving her curious looks when they thought she was not looking. It would almost have been a relief if her parents had shouted at her and punished her for it. At least that would have been normal. This was just weird.
There followed an entire week of silence, in which Carmen heard nothing at all from the underground. Finally, a note came from Ward. It was delivered by a Doodle of such dirtiness that Carmen had smelled him coming up the street before she had seen him.
"Communikayshun," this creature barked, slapping a piece of paper into Carmen's hand without breaking its stride, and taking itself and its stench away down the street without a backwards glance.
The piece of paper, which Carmen didn't open there on the street, but took to school with her and read during recess in a quiet corner of the school grounds, had been the usual request to meet at Flag Wood. It was unsigned, but she recognised Ward's awkward, unschooled handwriting. She was surprised by the intensity of relief she felt at the sight of it. After the shifting sands of the past few weeks it seemed to her to indicate the resumption of their friendship and a return to some kind of normality. It was as if she had been holding her breath all this time. She knew she was putting too much stock in one little note, but she couldn't help the feeling of elation.
As the school day had dragged on she had become more and more anxious about seeing Ward. He was different now. Older or something. And she was not certain she wanted to hear what he had to say. So she decided to go to Flag Wood via Slops's place. It would be easier if Slops was there too.
When she got to the Sloopers' she found Grim sitting on the front doorstep cleaning himself. When Carmen came up the path he neither looked up nor stopped cleaning himself.
(they're not home) he said to his paw.
Carmen knocked on the door anyway.
Grim looked up long enough to give her a disdainful look.
There was no answer of course.
(come on, we're going to Flag Wood)
(if all else fails ask the fel)
Carmen ignored this.
Grim stood up and stretched, then sauntered out to the road behind her. From there he followed her at a discreet distance. To Carmen's knowledge the ban on pets had not been enforced with much fervour, but it hadn't been repealed either, and they had to be careful. The first and most important lesson you learned growing up in Bareheep was not to draw attention to yourself.
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The first lesson I learned was don't soil yourself, and it has (mostly) served me well.
