♦ SECRETS AND SNOWBALLS ♦
Oliver and Adélaïde left the couch and the great room and went to a window at the front of the house. Oliver forced the latch, slid open the window, and stuck his head out. Willow Street was deserted.
“We have to tell him,” Adélaïde said, leaning next to Oliver.
“I know. I’m just worried he’s going to hate us for not saying something sooner.”
“He’ll hate us even more if we don’t do it now.”
Oliver was about to agree when a snowball smacked him clean across the face. He jerked his head and clunked it on the window. “Who did—?”
“ARCHER!” yelled Adélaïde.
Oliver wiped the snow from his eyes. Archer was smiling at them from a snowdrift where the sidewalk should have been. Adélaïde and Oliver dashed to the door and, without bothering to grab their coats, jumped down the front steps and tackled him.
“It’s about time!” Oliver said, pulling his arm from beneath Adélaïde. “But a hello would have worked just as well.”
“Hello,” Archer said, sitting up and inspecting Oliver’s head. “Sorry about that.”
“He’s fine,” Adélaïde assured him. “He’s got a thick skull.”
Oliver stood up grinning and offered them both a hand. They shook the snow from their clothes and stepped back inside the Glubs’ house. Archer took a deep sniff. It smelled like gingerbread and caramel and pine. It smelled like home.
“Keep your coat,” Oliver said, pulling his from a hook and handing Adélaïde hers. “We’re going upstairs. But you should say hello first. Everyone’s been waiting for you.”
They crossed the hall and entered the great room, where Archer was greeted like royalty.
“Welcome home, Archer!” Mr. Glub cheered, popping him on the head with a closed fist. “This place hasn’t been the same without you lurking around!” He pointed to Oliver and Adélaïde. “You should’ve seen them, Archer. They’ve been loafing about without you.”
“Thank you for sending all those pastries and the cheesecake,” Archer said as Mrs. Glub wrapped him in a warm hug.
“It was my pleasure, dear. And there’s plenty more for you tonight. Now where are your parents?”
“They’ll be here soon.”
Claire, still digging beneath the tree, jumped to her feet with one of Oliver’s gifts in her hand. She tossed it over her shoulder and joined the merry crowd. It looked like she was going to give Archer a hug, but she shook his hand instead.
“That’s awfully formal, Claire,” Mr. Glub said, laughing.
Mr. Belmont smiled on from behind the Glubs while Amaury, who’d only recently arrived from France, seemed to be wondering who this Archer fellow was.
“And how was the Raven Wood library?” came a familiar voice.
Oliver whispered in Archer’s ear as Miss Whitewood stepped forward. “Adélaïde invited her. I’m not sure how I feel about having a teacher in my home. I’d prefer to keep my worlds separated.”
Archer hadn’t seen Miss Whitewood since before the tiger incident, but he was pleased to discover she still smelled like books. “The Raven Wood head of school wanted to speak with you,” he said. “Mr. Churnick. Did you ever talk to him?”
“I did,” Miss Whitewood replied, handing him a small card. “I gave one to Oliver and Adélaïde, too. That’ll get you into the library over the holiday if you’d like to come see me. Be discreet if you do. You mustn’t let Mrs. Thimbleton catch you inside the Button Factory.”
Oliver grabbed a tray of fudge crumble cookies from the table. “We’re going to my room,” he announced.
“And why should you leave?” Mrs. Glub asked.
“You need coats to go into your room?” Mr. Glub added.
“It’s cold up there,” Oliver explained. “My radiator is dying. It clanks and clunks, but it’s all lies. There’s no heat.”
Mr. Glub gave Archer a knowing smile. “It’s not easy to be the son of a lowly newspaperman.”
Mrs. Glub tapped her foot. “All right. I know you three have much to catch up on. But please, I don’t want you getting any more strange ideas.”
“And we don’t need to be gossiping about things we’re not supposed to gossip about,” Mr. Glub warned. “We’re a Doldrums family. Not a Chronicle family.”
♦ BAD TIDINGS TOWARD MAN ♦
Oliver led the way up the stairs to his bedroom and then out onto his balcony, where they used a metal ladder to climb to the roof. When Archer’s head poked over the ledge, he saw a shoveled pathway across the snowy flat rooftop and a roaring fire in a dented metal bowl.
“We wanted to talk without anyone else around,” Adélaïde explained.
For a moment, Archer stood gazing down into the Willow Street gardens, and then at the Rosewood rooftops stretching in all directions, and finally at the Button Factory smokestacks, rising above all else. He truly was home. But something was different. The house next to Adélaïde’s—Mrs. Murkley’s former residence—was all lit up.
“That’s where the girl I told you about lives,” Oliver said. “She moved in two weeks after you left. Diptikana Misra.”
“But everyone calls her Kana,” Adélaïde added.
“No, everyone calls her cuckoo.”
“She has a silver streak in her hair. That’s usually the sign of a traumatic experience.”
“And we know what that experience was, Archer.” Oliver pointed to the metal bowl. “Do you remember the last time we had a rooftop fire—before the whole tiger disaster? We were tearing up a newspaper to get the fire going, and there was a story about a girl who’d vanished down a wishing well. According to everyone at the Button Factory, that girl was Kana.”
“They said the water inside the well gave her psychic abilities,” Adélaïde said, nodding.
“I don’t believe that part,” Oliver scoffed. “She was strange before that. And now she won’t stop staring at me. I think she wants me to know she’s doing it—like she’s trying to tell me something without using words. It’s creepy.”
“Perhaps she’s trying to say she likes you,” Adélaïde suggested, batting her eyelashes.
Oliver scowled and moved closer to the fire. Archer and Adélaïde followed. Archer told them all about Raven Wood and the rumors of what Mrs. Murkley had done. Their faces dropped when he told them he’d be going back after the holiday. Like Archer, they’d been secretly hoping his parents would let him stay.
“It’s because my grandparents are coming home,” he explained. “My parents even told me to spend more time outside. Something strange is going on. My roommate at Raven Wood, on our last day together, suggested my grandparents might be dangerous, but he wouldn’t say any more. And then earlier today, at Rosewood Station, there was this…” Archer paused. Adélaïde and Oliver seemed to be having an argument with their eyes. “Do you know something?”
Oliver stopped rubbing his hands. “We’re not supposed to tell you, Archer, but we’ve been hearing lots of things. None of it’s good.”
Archer