Lilith read the placard fixed to thecask and gasped with excitement. “Look! You’re not going to believe this.”
Both girls studied the inscription.
God’s Merciful Hand Hath
Vanquished the Blighted Soul Of:
Percy Valentine, Esq.
Lord of Brimstone Manor.
Founder of Our Ultorious Apostles.
Underwood Parish, 1872.
“It’s him! Lord Percy! From thejournal!” said Ophelia.
“He must have been cursed by Og.”
“Rowena was cursed by that VictorTainn character, right? so maybe she cursed Percy?”
Ophelia gave Lilith an excited look.“Wouldn’t he make a brilliant boyfriend?”
“What?”
“Remember what Rowena said about himin her journal? Dashing, handsome, rich, attracted to the dark side of life,friends with warlocks.”
“Well yes, she did say that, I guess.But won't he try to curse us if he’s in the grip of Og?”
Lilith had already put Simon Drew’scask back in its place on the plinth. “We defiantly don’t want that one. Hesounds like a right wimp. We need someone darker to play with.”
“But what about Professor Jareth’sinstructions?”
“Oh come on! We’re supposed to begoing down into a world of evil magic. He sounds about as dark as a daisy.” Shepicked up Percy Valentine’s cask, clutching it to her chest and grinning. “Areal life Victorian Lord of the Manor! Handsome, dashing, dark and dangerous.How brilliant!”
“Well, he does sound rather sexy.”
“He’ll love having you as a witchygirlfriend and me as an evil playmate.”
Ophelia was unsure but smiled. She decidedhe'd not bother cursing girls who were witches already. “So dashing! Sohandsome!”
The girls giggled as they made theirway across the gloomy cellar and up the spiral staircase. They had no idea ofwhat they were about to unleash.
Chapter Four - A Midnight Rendezvous
If you go out walkin’ one day.
You may see the Devil comin’ your way.
Tip your hat as you do stroll.
Or else Ol’ Nick will burn your soul.
– Extract from Out Walkin’ One Day
– Old English Folk Song, Anonymous.
Billmet Arthur outside their rooms. They'd unpacked and settled in and were nowkeen to explore. They went down the stairs and heard chatting and music comingfrom the Junior Common Room. They went through a set of open double doors andfound a large wood panelled room with a high ceiling and a big stone fireplace.Leather sofas were scattered with cushions and set around heavy coffee tables.Every nook and cranny was filled with drooping plants in china pots.
There were a number of studentssitting in groups. The closest were three young men who were sprawled on asofa, watching a football match on a black and white television set. Bill wasamazed when he saw this wooden box of moving pictures – he couldn’t recall everhaving seen one before.
“How do?” said one of them, looking atArthur. He had wavy blonde hair, wispy side burns and a denim jacket. “I’m Deanand this is George and Frank.”
The other boys grunted or waved. Theywere dressed the same as Dean, so looked identical, except for Frank who wastaller, fatter and grumpier looking.
“I’m Arthur,” said Arthur. “And thisis Bill.”
“Cool T-shirt,” said Dean.
Arthur was wearing a black t-shirtwith a picture of a long-haired band posing provocatively, with their tonguessticking out and fingers in the air. On the back was a long list of NorthernEngland cities and dates. “It’s the Crocodile t-shirt from their legendary 1970tour, when Cheggers demolished their hotel with a Mini Cooper.”
“Cool,” said George.
The boys looked at Bill and saidnothing for a few seconds. “I hope you don’t mind me saying mate,” said Dean,“but you look like a right dark pagan prat in that gear.”
Bill had on his brown corduroy smokingjacket with a white shirt and paisley cravat. His thick black glasses lookedfar too big for his face.
“A what?” said Bill. He was about toadd that his mother supplied all his clothes but had learnt this probablywasn’t the best thing to say.
“You know,” said George, “Hubble,bubble toil and trouble.”
“You’re not going to score any chicksdressed like that,” said Dean.
“Oh,” said Bill touching his cravatand thinking of Ophelia.
“We’re second years,” said Dean, “sowe can show you the ropes.”
“Like where the best pub is,” saidGeorge.
“Did someone say pub?” said Frank,suddenly becoming animated. “It’s nearly eight o’clock and I haven’t had myusual – four pints of heavy. Criminal.”
“Frank managed to survive the whole ofthe first year on steak pies and brown ale,” said Dean.
“And long may it continue,” said Frankpatting his ample stomach.
“Marvellous constitution,” saidGeorge.
“Come and join us,” said Dean gettingup from the sofa.
“Thanks,” said Arthur and Bill inunison.
The boys left Connaught Hall and wentthrough a side gate in the tall iron railings, which was just around the cornerfrom the main entrance. Across the road was a row of terraced shops, and on thecorner was a big old-fashioned pub with etched glass windows. A battered signhung above the door showing a picture of a duck holding a pint of beer withcrosses for its eyes and the words ‘The Dizzy Duck’ written over its head.
“The Duck’s where you’ll find all theaction,” said Dean pushing open the door.
Inside was smoke filled and noisywith chatter, with Crocodile’s The Girl in the Bar coming out of ajukebox. The floor was dirty dark wood and the walls were nicotine stained,with a stuffed owl in a glass case in the corner. Bill and Arthur walkedforward, past a group of student girls in paisley tops and miniskirts. Deansaid hello to most of them.
As they made their way across the pubBill saw something that puzzled, perplexed and scared the hell out of him. Mostof the people sitting around the tables looked perfectly normal – chatting andlaughing, drinking their beer – but occasionally someone had a faint halo oflight around their head and what can only be described as beast’s eyes, yellowand shining – like the eyes of the professor he’d seen when he’d first arrived– and a pair of faint horns. Bill wondered if he was going mad because no oneelse seemed to notice anything unusual. The big chubby barman was a yellow-eyednightmare but people were buying drinks, smiling and exchanging pleasantries.He’d have to tell his mother
