The Mortal Knife Read Online Free PDF Page B

swung closed behind him on silent hinges.
    Adam kicked his way up the gravel driveway, unmoved by the graceful grey stone house with its leaded windows and heavy front door, stained glass gleaming above the dark wood. Of course, what could be seen above ground was just the tip of the iceberg. Underneath the clipped lawn and ornamental trees the ground was hollowed out into vaults, crypts and a huge ballroom and dining chamber. He trudged round the side of the house, heading for the back door in the hope of a quick snack in the kitchen. Sam and Morty had been running free in the paddock but as usual heard his approach and ran to greet him, barking in welcome. They were huge – Irish wolfhounds trained as herding dogs – although it was souls they herded, not sheep.
    After an energetic wrestling match he escaped from the dogs and into the kitchen. He was hungry and tired and needed some thinking time. He would throw together a quick sandwich, take it up to his room and have some chill-out time. Just some quiet thinking time, that was all he needed  … 
    The kitchen door burst open and Nathanial came in, looking uncharacteristically flustered. ‘Adam! Thank goodness! We were about to send out a search party. You need to go upstairs and get changed as fast as you can.’
    â€˜Why?’ Adam protested.
    Nathanial’s face was grim. ‘Because we’ve been Summoned.’
    A few minutes later Adam was pacing up and down the tiny TV den. Auntie Jo and Adam’s younger sister Chloe were sitting on the sofa half asleep. Both were smartly dressed; or at least Auntie Jo wasn’t wearing a kaftan, which was pretty much as smart as she got. She didn’t even look like her brother Nathanial – where he was tall and thin, Auntie Jo was short and plump. Where Nathanial was always smartly dressed, Auntie Jo looked like she had dressed in the dark and then jumped backwards through a hedge just to finish off the job. The only things they had in common were their pale complexions, dark hair and blue eyes. Adam, like Auntie Jo, hated getting dressed up. He had changed from his uniform into a suit, seething with resentment.
    â€˜Stop pacing,’ Auntie Jo grumbled through a mouthful of toast. ‘You’re making my head hurt.’
    â€˜Last night’s whisky is making your head hurt more like,’ Adam muttered but he perched on the arm of the sofa beside Chloe. There had been an unexpected visitor – Alexander, Heinrich’s son. Heinrich was Chief Curator – head of the Concilium, the Luman authorities. He and the other Curators had sent their sons around the globe, gathering Lumen, both male and female. Adam’s heart rate had slowed down a little when he realised they weren’t just looking for him. Aron and Luc had been sent to Summon the other British Lumen. Adam got to stay at home thanks to being at school – and his habit of getting nosebleeds every time he swooped. No one wanted a blood-spattered waif arriving on their doorstep.
    â€˜But why are we being Summoned?’ Chloe said. ‘Who are we being Summoned
by
?’
    Auntie Jo yawned hugely, exposing a horrible mouthful of mushed-up toast. ‘The Fates of course. Don’t you remember your lessons? I didn’t spend all those afternoons teaching you Luman history just so you could forget every word of it!’
    Chloe scowled. ‘How could I forget? Maybe if I’m lucky I can pass it on to
my
kids someday, since I can’t be a Luman. What a thrill
that
will be.’ Every word dripped sarcasm.
    Adam felt a sneaking sympathy for Chloe and Auntie Jo. Only men could be Lumen, not women. The irony was Nathanial needed all the help he could get, especially because Adam was so rubbish as a Luman. Chloe and Auntie Jo would be
far
better Lumen than Adam – but female Lumen were expected to stay at home cooking, cleaning and having babies. Unless of course they were Auntie Jo, who