The Mysterious Benedict Society

You can help her! You can warn her, tell her to keep quiet about the voices in her head. You’ll have Mr. Curtain’s ear — you can vouch for Miss Perumal. You can protect her!

Reynie clasped his hands to his head. But would she want me to do that? At such a cost? No, she wouldn’t. And yet . . . and yet . . . it’s impossible! There’s no way out!

Mr. Curtain had finished his juice and was watching Reynard watch the Whisperer. “You’ve missed it, I see,” purred Mr. Curtain. “Well, miss it no longer. Take your seat, Reynard. Take your rightful place.”

Reynie’s mind was so foggy. Had Mr. Curtain said “your rightful place”? Or was that his own mind? And who had been talking to him before that? Wasn’t it the Whisperer? No, he realized. Unfortunately not. It wasn’t the Whisperer at all. It was Reynie himself.

“Reynard!” Mr. Curtain prompted.

Reynie made his way toward the Whisperer. The session would go quickly — a few minutes, Mr. Curtain had said — and then it would be over. And then . . . he swallowed hard. What would happen to Constance? Would something dreadful happen to her when Mr. Curtain boosted the power? And what would become of the others?

He looked back at Sticky, slumped on a cushion in a posture of weary defeat. Despite his terror, in the face of the Whisperer’s irresistible power, Sticky had resisted with all his might. He would never have done that if not for Reynie’s urging, and now it had put him into disfavor with Mr. Curtain. Was Reynie really going to help Mr. Curtain? It would be a betrayal of their friendship! And Kate — to think of what they’d been through together, and the risks she’d taken. . . .

“Ledroptha Curtain!”

The cuffs clasped Reynie’s wrists. The helmet lowered. Reynie closed his eyes, only to see the faces of his friends. He remembered the final question of Mr. Benedict’s first test: Are you brave? Now, at least, Reynie knew the answer. He wasn’t brave. He had only hoped he was.

Good, said the Whisperer. What is your name?

“Just get it over with quickly,” Reynie told himself.

Welcome, Reynard Muldoon.

“Welcome,” Reynie repeated. Yes. Welcome was such a — such a welcoming word. It made you feel a part of something. It made you feel . . . not alone. No, he was not alone at all. And yet . . .

Reynard Muldoon, what do you fear most?

In his mind’s eye Reynie still saw the faces of his friends. Sticky, Kate, Constance — all watching him with concern. They’d been through so much together! Was he really going to betray them?

“You could never be more alone than if you betrayed your friends,” Reynie said to himself.

Instantly the Whisperer’s voice said, Don’t worry. You will never betray your friends. You are brave enough.

Reynie was so startled he almost laughed aloud. The Whisperer was too perceptive for its own good! At the most important moment of all, it had given him just the encouragement he needed — the encouragement to help him fight it!

Let us begin, said the Whisperer.

Reynie was flooded with a terrific sense of well-being. Real well-being — not an illusion at all. He would not betray his friends. He knew that now. He had confronted his worst fear, and now it was gone. No need for the Whisperer to deny it — there was nothing left to deny!

Let us begin, the Whisperer repeated.

Reynie braced himself. Let the worst come. He would be brave enough to resist, and he would not be alone.

Let us begin, the Whisperer repeated, more insistently.

Not just yet, Reynie thought.

Let us begin.

First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought.

Let us begin.

Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted.

He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him.

Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin.

Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.

And then, as if he had conjured her, Reynie heard Constance’s shrill voice. It was perhaps the first time he had ever been glad to hear it.

“Help! Open up! Let me in!”

“Pah!” sputtered Mr. Curtain. “What is wrong with this infernal machine? And now another interruption! Where is that voice coming from?”

“From the window,” said Sticky, who looked every bit as surprised as Mr. Curtain.

“The window?” Mr. Curtain said, thrusting the red helmet from his head and looking toward the window. Nothing was visible beyond it except blue sky. He grunted and lowered the helmet again. “Never mind. We’ll just