'Ask what we should do next,' said Duck impatiently, sensing his hesitation. She reached out to pet the dog, which nudged her hand with its nose, urging her to continue. Its ears felt like warm silky gloves and she caressed them lovingly.
'OK, but this has to be quick,' he said, glancing at his watch.
Psalmamazar held the page open as Blake repeated Duck's question: 'What should we do next?'
He stared at the page for what seemed like ages, but no new message or instruction appeared. The page remained blank.
'Nothing,' he said at last, giving up hope. 'There's nothing there. I'm not very good at this.'
'Maybe the book can't predict the future,' said Duck. 'Maybe we have to figure it out for ourselves…'
But that wasn't true. The book had already made plenty of predictions. If nothing else, Jolyon had told them
Blake felt let down by this realization. There were so many questions that needed answering, so many things he needed to know, and yet the book remained frustratingly silent.
'That's it,' he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. 'Sometimes it's harder to know the question than to find an answer.'
'Huh?' said Duck, puzzled.
'It's something Professor Jolyon told me,' he said. 'I can't ask vague questions like 'What will happen in the future?' That's too general. I need to be more specific. Maybe then the book can help us.'
He took a moment to phrase the question in his mind and asked in a clearer, more confident tone, 'Where is the blank book I found in the library on Tuesday afternoon?'
Duck looked up, curious. Psalmanazar, however, had tightened his grip on the book. His knuckles gleamed, bone-white between the layers of grime. What had caused the change? Blake gave him a sideways look, but the man's face was locked on the book, inscrutable.
The boy followed his eyes down to the page.
'I can see something coming,' he whispered, 'but it's really faint. I can't make it out.'
He peered closer. His mouth felt dry. 'Great, it's another riddle,' he despaired when at last he could distinguish the words.
'Quick, read it to me,' said Duck. 'I'm good at these things. I can help you.'
Blake paused for a moment and then, unable to figure out the meaning on his own, recited the lines aloud. They seemed so simple, yet complex:
'The Present has passed — the Past has gone
The Future will come — once Two become One.'
He groaned. 'This poem's even more baffling than the first one I saw,' he said.
Duck, however, was repeating the words to herself over and over again, memorizing them. Her lips moved and her nose twitched — like a rabbit nibbling the air. Blake stared at her and then at the book, willing himself to see through the words, but he couldn't.
'I don't get it,' he said at last, a fringe of dark hair flopping over his eyes.
She held up a hand to silence him. 'I think I do.'
The words were so soft, Blake almost didn't hear them.
'What?'
'Well, I don't understand all of it,' she corrected herself as he turned to her in disbelief, 'But I get the gist of it. At least, I think I know how we're supposed to locate the
'Huh?' said Blake, astounded. 'How?'
'Just read the poem again,' she said, 'but this time spell the words as you say them.'
Blake shook his head. 'What difference does that make?'
'It all depends on how you spell the past,' she said, sphinx-like. 'It makes all the difference in the world.'
She started to pet the dog again. 'Just do it,' she commanded.
Blake did as he was told. Even with Duck's advice the words didn't make much sense. The present, past and future were hopelessly entangled, like a knot. Try as he might, he couldn't tease them apart.
'I still don't get it,' he said.
'Well, the book we're looking at now is falling apart,' she pointed out as yet more bits of paper fluttered out from between Psalmanazar's fingers and fell to the ground like tattered moths. 'So its usefulness has passed or is passing as we speak. That explains the first bit: the present has passed.'
Blake regarded her with suspicion.
'And you don't have the volume you found in the library, so that's the second,' she continued. 'The past has gone. It can't tell you anything more specific than that. This leaves the
She looked up, expecting to be congratulated, but Blake frowned.
'But how are we going to do that?' he whined. 'We don't even know where the first book is. It's pointless!' He kicked at the ground, sending a twig flying. It snapped like a bone.
'I know,' answered his sister vaguely, 'but I'm sure we'll find it soon.'
Unconvinced, Blake looked at his watch. 'Come on, we'd better go. Mum will be furious.'
'Ask who the Person in Shadow is, first,' she said.
Blake went pale. His heart leaped into his mouth. This was one question he didn't want answered. He turned to her, aghast.
'Go on,' she said. 'It's the obvious thing to do.' She continued combing her fingers through the dog's hair, pretending not to be afraid.
Blake nodded, but didn't say anything. The trees around him seemed to inch closer, clutching each other with their thin branches. The remaining leaves shivered.
Blake bit his lip, but found himself creeping closer to the blank paper, which Psalmanazar pinned open with his fingers. The corner of a page flickered.
Taking a deep breath, Blake then said the words that frightened him most: 'Shw me the face of the Person in Shadow.'
Immediately he closed his eyes, afraid of what he would see once he opened them. It was like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake and wishing for something not to come true. He waited for a few seconds and then, slowly, prized his eyes open.
He could feel his courage trickling down his spine like a melting icicle.
He watched, appalled, as a mass of dark ink swirled over the page like dye unraveling in a glass of water, at war with the white paper. The battle seemed to last forever, a tug-of-war between light and shade, but eventually the page was coated completely in shadow — like an eclipse. Then, from the darkness, a figure began to emerge, a shape that grew larger, but no more distinct. It was like a mask or silhouette, concealing more than it revealed.
Despite his fear, Blake peered closer.
He sensed that he was looking into the face of evil, but could not tell who — or what — it was. The shadow seemed to reach out and engulf him. His heart and lungs filled with cold. His pupils dilated like holes in thin ice. He could not lift his eyes from the paper.
All of a sudden, the dog growled and Psalmanazar let the bookdrop…just at the moment Blake thought he could recognize the face. The volume fell to the ground, where it collapsed in a heap of paper. The spell was broken.
'What happened?' asked Blake in a petrified whisper.
The low rumble in the dog's throat revved into a snarl as, hackles raised, it crept stealthily in front of Duck, shielding her with its body, its thin armor of ribs.
From behind him, Blake heard sounds of activity and turned to see joggers and dog-walkers crossing the bridge towards the towpath. Life was going on as usual.
'I don't understand,' he said, fearfully. 'What's wrong?'
'It's you,' said Duck at last, her voice trembling. 'Something came over you. You turned really pale all of a sudden. There was a gleam in your eye. What did the book show you?'
Helplessly, Blake turned to Psalmanazar, who refused to meet his gaze. He was staring into the distance as if
