REGARDS,
RONALD SUPLARD
Grandma Helmsley inspected both sides of the letter as though she was looking for a clue. “Do we trust Suplard?” she asked his grandfather.
“We have no reason not to.”
“Then we’ll go. I wish you could come, too, Archer, but there are many—”
“Of course he’s coming,” Grandpa Helmsley interrupted. “It’s a banquet. He can bring his friends and see the Grand Hall while we attend to business.”
Grandma Helmsley frowned, but she didn’t argue.
His grandfather told him to invite his friends and then left to speak to his father. Archer hurried to his room but stopped outside the door. He couldn’t imagine going to the Society without Oliver and Adélaïde. But he hadn’t spoken to either of them since the Glubs’ party. What if they were angry with him? They had every right to be. He slunk into his bedroom, not sure he wanted to face them. But there they were. Adélaïde froze, her hands poised to leave a brightly wrapped gift on his desk.
“Oh, uh, merry Christmas,” she said. “We thought you were downstairs. We were just going to leave this.”
“We still can,” Oliver added. “If you’d prefer.”
“Please don’t,” Archer said, shutting the door. “I’m sorry. For the other night. I didn’t mean to ruin the party. I was—”
“We know you were upset,” Adélaïde said, trying to give him the gift.
Archer was reluctant to take it. “I forgot to get you something.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver said as Adélaïde forced the present into Archer’s hands. “My father was right. We’ve been loafing ever since you left. Go on. Open it.”
Archer sat on his bed and unwrapped the gift. There were two things inside. The first was a half-empty box of DuttonLick’s chocolate caramel turtles.
“I might have eaten a few,” Oliver said, blushing. “But I’ll make you more. I wanted to tell you the other night—Mr. DuttonLick is having a huge party at the sweetshop, and he asked me to be his assistant. He’s going to teach me how to make chocolate.”
Oliver had gone from blushing to beaming. He’d even puffed out his chest a little. DuttonLick’s sweetshop was Oliver’s favorite store in Rosewood. And aside from Mr. DuttonLick himself, Oliver knew it better than anyone.
“You’ll be a great assistant,” Archer said, pouring the chocolates into his hand and offering his friends some.
Beneath the half-empty chocolate box was a brand-new leather-bound pocket journal.
“I thought you could use a new one,” Adélaïde explained, licking a bit of caramel from her finger. “I hope you like it. It’s from Bray and Ink on Howling Bloom Street. And look.” She leaned in and lifted the cover. “This one even has a pen holder.”
Many things in this world can rack you with guilt, but treating your good friends poorly and having those same friends acting as though it never happened at all takes the cake.
“It’s perfect,” Archer managed. “Thank you.”
Adélaïde smiled and sat beside him, glancing over the newspaper articles sprawled across his bed.
“We heard your grandparents are home,” Oliver said hesitantly. “Have they said anything about the iceberg?”
“Not much,” Archer sighed. “But it wasn’t a hoax. My grandparents aren’t dangerous. Mr. Birthwhistle is. He’s the Society president, and I think I know what’s really going on.” He paused before adding, “I think Mr. Birthwhistle tried to kill my grandparents.”
That was not quite in keeping with the spirit of Christmas morning. Oliver and Adélaïde needed a moment to digest it.
“Why do you think that?” Adélaïde finally asked.
“My grandfather basically said it.” Archer searched the newspaper clippings for the ICEBERG HOAX! article. “Think about it,” he continued, handing it to Adélaïde. “Mr. Birthwhistle talked to the newspapers first. He got everyone to believe my grandparents wanted to vanish—that they went crazy. I’m sure he’s doing the same thing at the Society. And now, if my grandparents tell the truth, if they say Mr. Birthwhistle tried to kill them, it will only reinforce the claim that they’re insane. Who’s going to believe them?”
“Fait accompli,” Adélaïde mumbled, lowering the article.
“Stop using your fancy French words,” Oliver insisted. “What does that even mean?”
“It means if Archer’s right, Mr. Birthwhistle has trapped his grandparents.” She turned to Archer, frowning. “But why? Why would he want to kill your grandparents?”
“My grandfather said there was a disagreement about something.”
Oliver wrinkled his forehead. “Adélaïde and I have disagreements all the time, but it’s not like we would ever…” He paused. Adélaïde was grinning at him in an odd way. “Well, maybe you would leave me on an iceberg. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t tell me more,” Archer explained. “But I know someone who will. My roommate at Raven Wood—I didn’t know it, but his father is Mr. Birthwhistle! There’s a banquet at the Society tonight. I’m going to find Benjamin there. And I’d like you two to come with me.”
“You want us to come with you to the place where the president is someone who tried to kill your grandparents?” Oliver asked slowly.
At a knock on the door, Archer shoved the newspaper clippings behind his pillow. His grandparents stepped into the room with grins as wide as could be.
“Would this be the infamous trio?” Grandpa Helmsley asked. “Adélaïde and Oliver?”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Grandma Helmsley said, shaking both their hands. “Archer has told us all about you. The life raft and your wooden leg. If you don’t mind my asking, dear, how do you find getting around on that?”
“It changed everything,” Adélaïde replied. “But I’m mostly used to it now.”
“You’ll fit right in at the Society,” Grandpa Helmsley said. “Speaking of which, I can’t say your mother is thrilled, Archer, but your father agreed. And will you two be joining us?”
“We’ll talk to our parents,” Adélaïde said, glancing at Oliver. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“Very good.” Grandpa Helmsley looked at his watch. “Cornelius will be picking us up in a few hours, but we’d like to mention a few things now. Rachel and I have business to see to while we’re at the Society. I don’t expect you three to keep to our sides the whole time. In fact, I’d prefer that you don’t.”
“But we do expect you to stay nearby,” Grandma Helmsley added. “There’s a lot to see there, but no wandering off on your own. We’ll be in the Grand Hall for the evening. And the Grand Hall is where we’d like you all to stay. I can assure you it will be filled with many characters.”
Mr. Helmsley appeared in the doorway. “And when you return,” he said to Archer’s grandparents, “as promised, you begin to sort things out.” He motioned for Archer to join him out in the hall.
“I know you’re excited, Archer,” his father said. “But while you’re at the Society, you must follow your grandparents’ rules. Your grandmother’s right. The Society is filled with characters. But not everyone is good-natured. Use your head.