Griffin of Darkwood Read Online Free PDF Page A

said Mr. Cherry. “You’ll have to come out here if you want to see the view.”
    He opened a low door and had to stoop to go through. Will followed him onto a narrow balcony with a stone wall.
    “Take a look,” snarled Mr. Cherry.
    Will leaned over the wall. His stomach dropped. This side of the castle rose straight up from a high craggy cliff, almost as if it were growing right out of the rocks. Far, far below was the black river. Two sleek birds circled above the water. We’re even higher than the birds, thought Will. It made his head spin.
    “It’s a long way down,” Mr. Cherry whispered close to his face. Garlicky fumes made Will feel sick.
    “People would say ‘Such a terrible accident,’” Mr. Cherry breathed in his ear.
    Will felt Mr. Cherry’s hand press between his shoulder blades. He gasped. The man was crazy! He yanked himself away, his heart pounding. He ducked through the door back into the hallway. Run! A voice screamed in his head. Run! Run!
    Will’s feet pounded the stone floor. He whipped around corners. Behind him echoed Mr. Cherry’s maniacal laughter.
    And then it was silent. Will slid into a doorway, sucking in gulps of air. He heard footsteps and Mr. Cherry strode by him, only an arm’s-length away. Will sagged against the wall, his legs like porridge.

Chapter Seven
    Ex Libris
    Will stood outside the archway at the front of the castle. He glanced up at the creepy stone gargoyle. Then he noticed something on the huge wooden door. Someone had sprayed the words GO AWAY in red paint.
    “Go back to where you came from,” the bus driver had said. And the woman on the bus had said, “Don’t pay any attention to the others.” The glaring words on the door made him feel sick. Why were people so scared of him and his aunt? What had Purvis Sneed meant when he said there was too much death?
    Will set out down the steep Black Penny Road to the village. The fog had lifted but it was a damp morning. A woman standing on the doorstep of the first stone house stared at him, unsmiling. As he continued down the road, he felt the woman’s eyes on his back.
    People were out with their shopping bags in the square. They watched Will as he walked past. He went straight to the bookstore. When he opened the door, a bell under the EX LIBRIS sign jingled. With a yelp, a girl crashed into him and dropped a book. She was dressed all in black, with red hair that fell to her waist and big round glasses.
    “Sorry,” said Will. He picked up the book and handed it to her. Without a sound, she scurried past him.
    He went inside. Bookshelves reached right to the ceiling in every direction, so it was impossible to tell if it was a big shop or a small shop. There was an old-fashioned rolltop desk at the front, but nobody was there.
    “Hey!” he called.
    “Back here,” a voice said.
    There were several ways Will could go. He eased between two towering bookshelves, turning sideways to squeeze past the places where books stuck out. The narrow aisle veered right and then left and then came to a dead end.
    Wrong way , he thought, turning around and sliding between the books until he was back at the rolltop desk. He chose the second route, which ended at a saggy armchair, leaking stuffing, with books scattered around it on the floor.
    The third route looked more promising; the books were tidier and not sticking out so much. After a few sharp turns he emerged into a small clearing somewhere in the middle of the shop. A man stood by a table, writing something on a sheet of cardboard. He was the tallest man Will had ever seen, with a long face like a horse and grey hair tied back in a neat ponytail.
    “You made it!” he said. He smiled. “You must be the boy from the castle.”
    “Right,” said Will.
    The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Favian Longstaff. Welcome to Sparrowhawk.”
    “I’m Will Poppy.” They shook hands.
    “Did you see Madeleine de Luca?” said Favian. “She was just leaving.”
    “She was in an