of words. There were even miles of books beneath him now, in tunnels below the ground. The university was an immense walk-in library. The
'Hold on,' he said. 'I need to take a look.' He grabbed Duck's elbow and steered her towards a large, old- fashioned lantern hanging from a sconce on the wall, opposite the Church of St. Mary the Virgin.
The wind was gathering strength and the pages of the blank book whipped back and forth like a thing possessed, flickering past his eyes so quickly he couldn't tell whether they contained any new information. Once or twice, he thought he glimpsed streaks of words, but they could have been smudges, shadows, anything. The lamp threw restless shapes against the stone buildings like autumn leaves.
Suddenly, a gust of wind tunneled through a nearby alley and seized the book from his hands. It almost flew away from him, rising towards the church, but he managed to cage it against his chest like a frightened bird before it broke free. Heart racing, he stuffed the volume back inside his bag. It wasn't safe to take any chances — not here, not now, not with the members of the Ex Libris Society so close.
'What's happening?' cried Duck, her voice grabbed by a fist of wind and hurled down the street.
'I don't know! The book seems to be afraid for some reason.'
'Blake, I don't like it,' she whimpered. 'I'm scared.'
'I know. I am too.'
'Maybe this is all a mistake,' she said. 'Maybe we shouldn't have brought the book with us.'
'But we had to,' he insisted. 'It's not safe to leave it behind either. I'm not letting it out of my sight ever again.'
He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but was rapidly losing his nerve. The quivering book alarmed him. The Person in Shadow might be waiting for them just around the corner.
'Don't worry,' he said again. 'It'll be all right, you'll see. Everything will work out fine in the end.' The wind forced the words back down his throat.
He noticed the long golden hands of the clock on the church tower overhead passing eight o'clock. The meeting would soon begin. They had to hurry.
Taking Duck's hand, he guided her towards the High Street, where the main entrance was located. Buses pounded past, sending tremors through the pavement. He glanced up at the sky once more for reassurance, but the night seemed to glower back — like the black page in his book. A few ragged clouds scudded across the moon.
The college was guarded by a slender door set into a fancy wooden gate. The arched door was slightly ajar, but an iron chain barred their way in. All SoulsCollege was clearly closed to visitors.
Blake looked around for a bell to ring, but all he could see were three dim statues glaring down at him from above. One wielded an orb and a scepter, another a crosier, while the third seemed to be perched above the others like God, sitting in judgment over everyone who passed by.
A voice suddenly growled at them from the other side of the door. 'What do you want?' A face like a gargoyle peered at them through a crevice between the door and the frame.
'We're here to attend a meeting,' said Blake nervously, swallowing a lump of fear in his throat. 'The Ex Libris Society.'
'You are, are you?'
'We're members,' lied Duck.
'You're members,' repeated the old man mirthlessly. 'You expect me to believe that? You're a bit young.'
Duck was about to give him a piece of her mind, but Blake nudged her to keep quiet. A bus rattled by. As soon as the vibrations subsided, he added more reasonably, 'We've been invited.'
The porter took off his bowler hat and poked a stubby finger in his ear, as if he had misheard. Wild hedgerows of curly gray hair sprouted around the sides of his bald head. 'I'm not going to open the gate to any kids,' he said at last. 'Especially foreign kids who waste my time.'
He moved as if to slam the door in their faces.
'But we have an invitation!' cried Duck in alarm. 'Show him, Blake.'
Reluctantly, Blake took the invitation from his jacket pocket and, carefully concealing the professor's name with his thumb, showed it to the man. The porter peered at it closely.
'The Ex Libris Society, huh? Come on, show me the real name on the invitation.'
Unwillingly, Blake peeled his thumb from the top of the card.
'Professor Jolyon Fall, eh? Well, I'm honored to meet you, sir.' The porter made a poor attempt at a bow. 'You're a bit young, aren't you?'
'That's enough!' a sharp voice rang out behind them suddenly. The children spun around in surprise. Diana Bentley, dressed entirely in white, stood out like a marble statue in the dark, the wind whipping a few strands of silver hair around her face like electricity.
She glared at the porter with contempt. 'They're with me and here's my invitation.' She handed him her card. 'Now open the door.'
The porter nodded and obediently unchained the door. The children followed Diana inside.
Diana regarded them with interest as they passed under a stone archway towards the front quadrangle.
'Well, this is a surprise,' she said mildly. 'It's nice to see you, Blake, and this must be your sister—'
'Duck,' said Blake, introducing her.
She smiled. 'How…cute.' She chose the word rather like a candy, which she bit.
'I preferred the porter,' Duck muttered gloomily under her breath, but Blake hissed at her to be quiet.
'Just be grateful we're in, OK?' he said. 'Behave yourself.'
Thick walls of stone surrounded them on all sides, shutting out the sounds of the city. It was as quiet as a tomb. To their right rose two tall, silhouetted towers, which speared the clouds with their spires. A small rectangular lawn, brilliant green by day, but black by night, lay in front of them: a pool of darkness moated by a silver path. On the far side of the quadrangle was a chapel with what looked like ghostly saints floating barefoot in the faintly illuminated windows.
Diana clearly knew the way. She led them round the lawn and down a small stairwell into a dusky crypt beneath the chapel. Echoes shuffled around them in the dark and the air smelled dusty and stale. In the twilit shadows Blake could see rows of short pillars bearing the weight of a low vaulted ceiling, under which several sarcophagi had been stashed.
'What are those?' he asked timidly, reaching out to take Duck's hand. Diana, however, laughed softly and glided in between them, steering them towards a hidden courtyard at the back of the college. Stopping outside a heavy wooden door, half-obscured by vines, she swiftly seized a round iron handle and twisted it open.
They entered a long room with a trussed roof made from blackened beams. A tapestry dominated the far wall. In it, a white stag leaped nimbly through a needlepoint forest, filled with pale trees and tiny embroidered flowers, endlessly pursued by baying hounds — their slavering jaws agape for centuries.
Numerous people were seated before a podium at the front of the room and Blake shied away from their glance as they turned around.
Diana, however, pushed him forwards. 'We've got some new recruits,' she ventured happily. 'Dr. Juliet Somers' children, Duck and Blake.'
There were murmurs of surprise, more than approval, but only Prosper Marchand, seated lazily in the front row, seemed unfazed by the intrusion. He was disputing the advantages of digital paper and electronic ink with a group of gray-haired scholars beside him.
'All the books in the world available at your fingertips,' he was explaining. 'No more crumbling paper or fading print. It's a universal library.'
Blake caught sight of Sir Giles Bentley standing nearby, listening to the conversation. His hands were clenched round the neck of a wine bottle, as if he wanted to choke it.
