The Mysterious Benedict Society

Reynie looked at Constance, whose face was even more sullen than usual, and fearful as well. He wanted to give her a comforting look, but she wouldn’t even glance in his direction. Anyway, what good would a look do? He was no more confident than Constance that the end wasn’t hurtling toward them.

It was bad enough that Sticky’s worst fear had come true, but if Sticky told Mr. Curtain everything — and who could blame him if he cracked under such pressure? — it would mean the end of their mission . . . and the beginning of something else. What would Mr. Curtain do if he found out? Would he take away everything? A complete brainsweep? And not just for Sticky but for all of them?

Maybe they weren’t even worth the trouble, Reynie thought grimly. They were orphans, after all — or in Sticky’s case, believed to be. Might they not just . . . go missing? Departed, Mr. Curtain would call it. Really departed. Reynie had a panicky feeling in his belly, the kind he always got when he dreamed he’d fallen from a precipice. Only with dreams he always woke up.

After their last class of the day, the Mysterious Benedict Society — minus one member — gathered in the rock garden.

“I hope Sticky isn’t suffering terribly,” Kate said. “He dreaded the Waiting Room more than anything. If it had to happen to one of us, it should have been me.”

“Don’t worry,” Constance said glumly. “You may still get your chance.”

Reynie didn’t point out that the Waiting Room might be the least of their worries. “Look, until Sticky comes back, I think we need to keep to our plan. Let’s go check out the loading area.”

The others agreed, and, with Constance riding piggyback, they left the rock garden and walked across the empty plaza. It was a bleak day, and no one, not even Mr. Curtain, was out to enjoy it. There were a few students on the path that led to the gym, however, and Reynie and the others passed them without a word. Kate had decided the hill beyond the gym would offer the best view of the loading area, so this was where they were headed now.

As the children mounted the hill, an early evening mist began to settle, and through its haze the lights of distant harbor traffic shone in blurred colors. Far to the north a foghorn groaned, reaching them less as a sound than as a trembling in their bellies, as if their bodies were pipes in a somber old organ. It was a somber evening all around.

Reaching the summit did nothing to improve their mood. Far below them, down by the bridge gate, the loading area was completely deserted. No trucks, no Helpers, no crates in sight, no point even in getting out the spyglass. The gate guards were huddled in their guardhouse, keeping warm and dry. Reynie gazed over the water toward the mainland shore. It seemed no more than a shadow in the mist, as impossible to determine as their fate.

Reynie’s gaze drifted back toward the Institute. The usual crowd of students had gathered at the gym, waiting for the doors to open. From this height they looked like insects, eagerly massed at the entrance of a bug trap. In theory the gym was open all day long, and students were encouraged to use it “any time at all,” but of course classes, meals, and studytime took up most of the day. In the remaining free minutes, hopeful students often took turns tugging at the door, which remained stubbornly closed. Just before supper, however, Jackson and many of the other Executives would appear from inside the gym and let the students in. If anyone had the gall to ask why the door had been locked, Jackson would respond that it hadn’t been locked; the students had simply been unable to open it.

Constance, too, was looking down at the little crowd of students milling outside the locked doors. “The gym’s always open, except when it isn’t,” she said, mimicking Jackson. She mopped her damp face with her damp sleeve. “What do the Executives do in there, anyway?”

Constance had only meant to express her annoyance (in fact she was composing an insulting poem in which Executives licked the gym floor clean), but Reynie looked at her as if she’d turned to gold.

“That’s a good question! I always assumed they were exercising — just keeping the gym to themselves. But what if they’re up to something else?”

Kate brought out the spyglass. “Guess what? There’s a window in the back. I could take a peek. I’d need to find a way to reach it, though — it’s a good ten feet off the ground. What do you think, Reynie?”

Several things raced through Reynie’s mind at once. It would mean going off the path, which meant risking traps, not to mention serious trouble. But maybe they were already in serious trouble and didn’t know it yet, and what they found out might be extremely important! Reynie frowned. He wished he had more time to deliberate, but there was no more time — the gym door would be unlocked any minute.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “I can stand on your shoulders.”

Kate grinned. “Okay! Here’s the plan: We’ll drop behind this hill to be out of sight of the gym, then circle around those smaller hills and sneak up from the back.”

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” said Constance.

“We need a lookout. From up here you can see everything, and we’ll be able to see you. If anyone heads around the building, jump up and down and wave your arms.”

“Oh, goody,” said Constance. “I get to stand here by myself and be misted on.”

But Reynie and Kate had already hurried off. They moved quickly downhill, running over damp sand and scrub brush and narrow swaths of grass, steering clear of boulders, keeping an eye out for drapeweed. Finally they came up to a low rise at the rear of the gym. Here they were hidden from view, and as Kate waited for Reynie to catch his breath, she jerked her thumb behind them, where the land erupted into a jumbled labyrinth of dunes and rocky hills. “Our escape route,” she whispered, “if we need one.”

Reynie squinted up to the high hilltop where they’d left Constance. He could just make out her small red figure against the backdrop of gray sky. He thought she might be moving, though only slightly. “Is Constance waving? Can you tell?”

Kate peered through her spyglass. “Just picking her nose. Let’s move.”

Quickly they climbed over the rise and scrambled down behind the gym, where the ground gave over entirely to crumbled gray stone, as if the building had shed pieces of itself onto the land around it. Good, Reynie thought. No footprints. He was worried, though, by the discovery of a back door that Kate hadn’t seen or thought to mention. Reynie pointed and frowned. They didn’t want surprise visitors. Kate was already working on it — she pointed to a large petrified tree limb lying among the stony rubble nearby. Together she and Reynie dragged it over and braced it against the bottom of the door.