Obsidian Pebble Read Online Free PDF

Seabourne’s Ancient Houses . There’s a copy upstairs in the library. But to cut a long story short, in 1761, something happened in a barn on this very site. An apparition appeared out of thin air. It even spoke. Four people, respectable churchgoers, all witnessed the same thing and they claimed it was a ghost. Of course, in those days superstition was rife. But someone didn’t like the thought of the barn being haunted and so it ended up being burned to the ground.”
    In the silence that followed, Oz could hear his own pulse thudding in his ears. “Do you think there’s anything to it?” he asked eventually.
    Caleb inclined his head thoughtfully. “There’s no doubt that this place is a bit special.”
    â€œBut do you think it’s haunted?” Ellie asked, her expression intent.
    â€œLet’s put it this way—I believe that some places attract strangeness like a magnet. Perhaps it’s something to do with where they’re sited or something about how they were built, I don’t know. But too many odd things have taken place here to be put down to sheer coincidence.”
    â€œIt’s not just Bunthorpe we wanted to know about, though; it’s the orphanage, too,” Oz said quickly.
    â€œAh, well.” Caleb clutched his mug in both hands. “This place is old, eighteenth century. But the actual building—the orphanage as you call it, that dates back to Jacobean times—the sixteen hundreds. The original house was built by an abbot. He put it on top of an old fortification that was there long before that. Bunthorpe barn was literally next door. When it was burned to the ground, the squire bought the land and the old abbot’s house. He built two new wings and joined them on to try to make it a property suitable for a squire and his family. That was finished in 1770.”
    â€œWas it him that painted the ceilings and stuff?” Ruff asked.
    Caleb shook his head. “The abbot started it all, but Squire Worthy did some, too. The paintings tell stories, you know. Proverbs and life histories. Amazing, aren’t they?”
    â€œSo it became an orphanage after that?” Ellie said.
    â€œAlmost a hundred years later, yes. And it stayed an orphanage until the end of the First World War. I think the last orphan left around 1920.”
    â€œAnd after that?” Oz probed. Caleb was better than Google.
    â€œThen it became the property of one Daniel Morsman, who had been an orphan here himself.”
    â€œWow,” Ruff said. “Liked it so much he bought the place.”
    â€œWas he famous then?” Ellie asked.
    â€œIn his time. Bit of an explorer.”
    â€œSo then came Great Aunt Bessy, and after that my dad, right?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Caleb nodded. He paused to sip his hot chocolate before asking, “I assume you all know what Penwurt means?”
    Oz knew, of course, but Ellie and Ruff shook their heads.
    â€œIt’s a mixture of Celtic and Old English. Pen is the Celtic for hill and Wurt comes from Old English or German. It meant fate or destiny. But weird and odd will do just as well. So, it’s the hill where weird things happen, and odd things have, indeed, been happening in exactly the spot we’re sitting in now for a long, long time.”
    Suddenly, the back door rattled and Ruff jumped off his seat with fright. Oz, too, almost spilled his hot chocolate as the door flew open and a creature wearing dirty, dust-covered clothes, its hair matted with cobwebs, face smeared with dirt and its jeans torn, shambled in.
    â€œOh, hi,” said Tim Perkins to the startled group sitting at the table.
    â€œWhat happened to you?” Ruff asked with his mouth hanging open.
    â€œMe?” Tim asked, momentarily nonplussed. “Oh, you mean my clothes?”
    â€œAnd your hair,” Ellie said. “I hope you didn’t tip your hairdresser.”
    Tim looked at his reflection in