William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I
Chapter 8 Annual Enrolee Ball

Over the next day, starting from morning, the enrolees were at the endless tour around the numerous rooms and sights of Alpurg. Frau Bertha was personally doing the tour and kept a close eye on William and El, giving them a side look from time to time. The boys did their best to behave as quiet as possible and they were trying to show that the tour was extremely interesting to them. Though, actually, they were very tired even after the second room and couldn’t wait for the moment the enrolees would be dismissed. It was almost evening when the tour reached that hall with portraits, where the chase after Bardalf had led them. They instantly recognized the place. Sleepy expressions on their faces were instantly replaced with caution. They were paying extra attention to the sculpture of Bardalf, which they were supposed to keep an eye on till midnight.

“We are in the Portrait Hall, enrolees!” Frau Bertha announced, the echo from her voice spreading all over the room. “Here you will find portraits and sculptures of wizards who had played an important role in the formation of the International Federation of Wizards.”

Everyone listened to her silently, looking at all the numerous large portraits. Truth to be said, Frau Bertha knew how to spin a story. Enrolees took great pleasure from just looking at the portraits. As for the stories about the wizards depicted on them, they were simply captivating. When Frau Bertha had reached Bardalf’s sculpture, she stood next to it and started talking:

“Bardalf Gramm! He was the president of the International Federation of Wizards from 1698 to 1703.”

At this, William and El exchanged looks.

“His role in the history of the International Federation of Wizards is great,” Frau Bertha continued. “Thanks to him, the system of president elections by the general vote of all wizards was abolished. The law that Bardalf Gramm had introduced stated that the position of the acting president was to be his until his death, after which the position was to be inherited. In other words, he was against the elections. Refusing to accept his decree and rebelling, the Wizard Community besieged Alpurg. Two months later, the rebels burst into the castle and killed Bardalf Gramm, overthrowing the tyrant and returning the freedom of speech. After Bardalf Gramm, the position of the president was taken by Oliver Burke! Another big event that happened during the reign of Bardalf Gramm was the creation of intelligence services, which…”

“This Bardalf sounds like a really unpleasant person!” El whispered to his friend.

“No wonder that during the yesterday’s conversation he was going to make another unpleasant step…” William replied.

“Will, look!” El pointed at one of the portraits on the opposite wall, the gesture unseen to others.

Finding the portrait El was pointing at, William gave his friend a puzzled look.

“Another wizard in noble clothes with a feather in his hand,” he remarked. “So what?”

“The label at the bottom! Read it!”

After reading the label, William stared at the portrait for a while.

“Deverell Calhoun…” he said quietly.

“Looks like your mailmage wasn’t lying!” El replied quietly. “Listen, I’m really intrigued!” he continued examining the portrait. “He seems to be your ancestor, Will.”

“I told you I didn’t know even my closest relatives, not mentioning ancestors,” William tried to keep his voice as low as possible. “I’ve heard about this ancestor from Nymus, but I had no idea who he was.”

“There’s only one way to learn who he is!” El whispered decisively, then said in a much louder voice: “Excuse me, Frau Bertha…”

“What are you doing?” William whispered fearfully.

“Taking a risk!” El replied in a whisper.

Frau Bertha, who had just finished telling about Bardalf Gramm, turned to them and, as soon as she saw who had called her, frowned and asked coldly:

“What is it?” All enrolees were staring at them now. “Why are you interrupting the tour?”

“We would really like to know whose portrait that is,” he pointed at Deverell Calhoun’s portrait, “and who he was…”

Everyone turned again, this time to the portrait. Frau Bertha turned, too, but as soon as she saw the portrait, she reacted in a much unexpected way, to general surprise:

“This portrait is not a part of the tour program for enrolees!” she snapped. “And if you once more dare to interrupt me with questions not meant for you, you risk being sent away immediately together with a letter to the Education Department, where I’m going to tell them that you two haven’t even shown up for the ball. And your studies at the Preparatory Course will end without even getting started! Is that clear?!”

“But you’ve already finished…” William muttered.

“I repeat my question: is that clear?!”

“Yes, Frau Bertha,” El replied.

“The tour is over! Now go to your rooms! Curators, in here!”

Several curators entered the room at the same time, gathered the enrolees into groups and took them back to their quarters. When they came to the living room for the enrolees, junior curator Morty said:

“At ten o’clock be ready to come downstairs. You will find garments for the ball in the rooms. Rest now,” he said and left the living room.

“Because of you, we’re stuck in here until late evening waiting to be called downstairs! You two are just swines!” said a girl with braids, with more unhappy girls behind her back.

“What did we do?” El protested. “We merely asked her to tell us about another portrait! She finished talking about that Bardalf fellow, anyway!”

“If you hadn’t made her mad in the Dining Hall yesterday, she wouldn’t have reacted like this today!” the girl insisted.

“I think it’s for the better. Now we can rest without having to listen to those boring stories!” a boy sitting with a newspaper in his hands intervened. William recognized him – it was Johnny, who stood near him in the entrance hall when they had entered the castle.

“Listen,” William addressed the girl, he was very upset he hadn’t learned anything about his ancestors, “it’s not our fault that the lady isn’t right in her head!”

“Oh, would you look at him!” the girl grimaced. “You make me sick!”

At this, she turned around and headed to the far corner of the living room, accompanied by her friends. The girls sat by the fire, giving them displeased looks from time to time.

“Thanks for taking our side,” El thanked Johnny. “How could we know she’d freak out like that. I’m El and this is Will!”

“Johnny Giggs!” he introduced himself. “It’s me who should be thanking you. You’ve cheered me up, though my mood was hopelessly ruined by that boring tour! As for Roberta Brown,” he nodded towards the fireplace, “you’d better ignore her. We were in the same cabin on the Six O’Clocker and if we’re going back together as well, I’d rather walk to London than spend several more hours around her!”

The three of them laughed, after which El said confidently:

“Yeah! I bet my feather than she is distantly related to Frau Bertha!”

“Speaking about relatives, El,” William said when they walked to the window and sat in the armchairs. “Looks like we have yet another reason to return to the Portrait Hall.”

“That’s right! But let me tell you, Will, no offence, there’s some gloomy mystery around your relatives! At one point, presidents are whispering about Calhouns in the kitchen, mentioning dukes and their graves, at another point we’re getting shouted at because of the mere mention of your ancestor’s portrait…”

William listened to El, finding his words quite fair. He also believed that something wasn’t right with his relatives. He remembered Vulpik’s reaction, Mr. Wellington’s nervousness, as well as yesterday’s events. There was too much weird in the things at least somehow connected with his family name.

“Yes, you are completely right,” he finally said.

“So, yesterday we overheard a former president… Some connections your relatives had, mate! Well, at least now we know that they weren’t talking about you, because you weren’t even born back then.”

El took a newspaper from the round table before him, looked through a couple of pages and whistled:

“That’s an unexpected wave of a feather!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t read a fresh issue of the ‘Informed Wizard’?”

“I haven’t read old ones either,” William snorted. “You know, El, I’ve noticed that strange name at the Cabstation Waiting Hall, but back then I thought that I had misunderstood something. Though,” he added, “I should have gotten used to such oddities by now. So, wizards have their own newspaper?”

“Are you kidding me? More than one!” El grinned. “Then, you’ve never read our papers, mate?”

“I’ve told you I’ve learned about the wizarding world recently.”

“I keep forgetting that! The newspaper says that the literarium was killed yesterday. On the same day, his assistant vanished from the Chronicles Commission. He is now the main suspect in the murder case. Wizhunters have lost the trail and the investigation has come to a dead end without even being properly started… Geez! The murder of the literarium himself… I can imagine how wizhunters feel right now! Poor dad!”

“Who is this literarium and what does it have to do with your father?”

“The literarium is the head of the Chronicles Commission! It’s something like a special commission for wizard rights and other legal rubbish.”

“So, what do they do in that Chronicles Commission?”

“Lots of stuff! They monitor births and deaths of wizards all over the world, they’ve been doing the census of the population since ancient times. Together with the International Federation of Wizards and the Wizard Association, the Chronicles Commission has the highest level of power.”

“Wow!”

“As for my dad, he’s a wizhunter!”

“You mean he catches criminals?” William made a guess.

“Something like that! But I’d rather call them huntsmen. I’m going to become a wizhunter, too, when I graduate. We are a whole dynasty of wizhunters, so I can’t get away from it! Though, I must admit I do like their work. It is always connected with danger and adventures! Look, Will,” he handed him the newspaper, “there’s also a portrait of the literarium’s assistant and his name, Henry Lauderdale! He does look like a real criminal!”

William took the newspaper and saw a photo of a wizard, about thirty years old, with groomed light hair and nice features.

“I don’t know, El,” William looked closely at the face of Henry Lauderdale. “I can hardly believe he’s capable of killing someone…”

“I’m telling you, he’s a mature criminal! Believe my genetic sense of a wizhunter, mate! They only seem so harmless and in reality, as my dad used to say, master criminals are really good at looking nice and giving the impression of the kindest and most honest being in the world! As they say: “Good looks hide the crooks!”

“Even though I’m not a wizhunter I still think that until the guilt of a criminal is proved, he is just a suspect, not a criminal.” William returned the newspaper to El and got up. “Alright, El, I’ll go take a nap. Will you wake me up when it’s time to come down?”

“Go ahead! And I’ll sit here, talk to people, learn the news and stuff.”

“Then see you in the evening.” With that, he headed to the boy’s bedroom, feeling extremely tired.

***

“Will! Wake up, time to get up. We need to come downstairs soon! Will!”

El was standing over sleeping William, and when he opened his eyes, he nearly jumped up. El was wearing something weird, and only when he looked at his friend again, he realized that El was wearing an olive doublet. El looked pretty ridiculous.

“Are you going to a carnival?” he asked El, sitting up in bed.

“Just you wait! You won’t look any better when you put those things on!” he grinned.

“Which things?” William asked in bewilderment and immediately saw some clothes at the foot of his bed he hadn’t noticed before. He was too deep in thoughts about Calhouns before going to bed. “What makes you think I’m going to put those on?”

“The fact that we need to wear them for the ball! Doesn’t it suck?” El grinned widely.

“Maybe they aren’t that bad…” William grunted, got up and started rummaging through the three items prepared for each enrolee. Each of them had an embroidered letter ‘E’ in a feather half-circle.

His fears were quite justified. After examining all three garments, he was convinced that they decided to make fun out of the enrolees.

“The most suitable of them all is the doublet!” El said. “That’s what I’ve chosen. I’ve got an olive one, you should wear this dark-purple one!” he recommended. “Yes, it’s a bit old-fashioned, no arguing here, but…” he pointed at the other two garments, “it’s much better than the yellow one-size-fits-all robes or the red dress-coat. Besides, the doublet fits me perfectly!”

“Just admit that you like it,” William remarked with a smile.

“We-eell, I won’t argue that it gives me a more noble look and all that… But if I could, I’d go downstairs in jeans and a shirt!”

Finally, agreeing with El, William found the doublet to be most suitable outfit for himself, considering the fact that the robes were too large for him and the red dress-coat was completely tasteless.

“I think I’ll choose the doublet, too,” he added with a smile. “Doublet seems to be the most suitable outfit, if we take into account where we are. Besides, it’s not that bad – I won’t be at least the only person at the ball wearing this thing!”

“Why do you think I’ve been trying to convince you? I also thought that if I am to look like an idiot, at least, I won’t be alone!” he grinned widely again.

“That’s a strong argument for sure!” William agreed.

Soon, at ten o’clock, when all the enrolees had changed into the ball garments, Morty came as promised and led then all downstairs, to the third floor, where the Ball Hall was situated. Ten groups had gathered there already, each of them made up of fifty enrolees. In a few minutes, the enrolees, dressed in ball garments, were crowded by the huge doors of the Ball Hall. But no matter how hard William and El looked, they couldn’t find another person in this crowd who had shown up for the ball in a doublet.

Soon Frau Bertha appeared before the doors. She was wearing a special festive outfit, which differed from the casual one by a golden pointed hat added to her usual emerald robes. All enrolees were silently waiting for her to talk.

“Are the enrolees all here?” she finally addressed junior curators.

“Yes, Frau Bertha!” one of them replied.

“Well, then, you may all enter the Ball Hall!”

She waved her magic feather and the huge doors behind her back started to open slowly, revealing the pitch black Ball Hall. When the doors were fully open, she turned her back on the enrolees and illuminated part of the Ball Hall with another wave of her feather. The Hall was immediately illuminated by the glow of thousands of candles, chaotically soaring in the air and creating the starry sky effect. After that, she turned to the amazed enrolees, saying:

“Welcome to the Ball Hall!” After which she made a very elegant, for her age, wave of her feather and disappeared right before the eyes of the open-mouthed enrolees.

“Don’t crowd at the door, go inside! Boys sit on the left, girls sit on the right,” said one of the curators and quickly walked into the open doors of the Ball Hall together with other curators.

Delighted enrolees entered the Ball Hall one by one and soon there was nobody left by the doors.

Inside, the Ball Hall was even more impressive than it could be seen from the outside. It was so big that even the numerous candles soaring in the air illuminated only the tables for the enrolees, set in a semi-circle on both sides of the hall. The rest of the hall remained in the shadow, making everyone guess what could be hiding in the dark. The objects, even though they could be rather well seen, seemed rather blurry and shapeless from a distance. When the junior curators made sure everyone was seated, the huge doors of the castle closed slowly. For a moment, there was complete silence in the hall, after which a small area in the depth of the hall, hidden in the shadow until then, was illuminated by several shadows, revealing the noble figure of Frau Bertha standing on a platform. Either the low light or the pointed hat on her head made her look rather majestic. For a moment, William thought that this lady was able to instil fear. However, judging by the look on El’s face, his friend was feeling the same. Breaking the general silence, Frau Bertha started talking loudly in her unpleasant voice with a heavy German accent. The same moment echo reflected her voice everywhere:

“Welcome to the Annual Enrolee Ball, wizards and witches! This night will be imprinted in the memory of each of you for centuries!” This was followed by a round of loud applause. When they stopped, Frau Bertha filled the Ball Hall with the echo of her voice again. “Not much time is left before the rectors arrive, but before that…” She directed her feather at a tall cabinet standing nearby and waved it gently.

All the enrolees sitting in the hall directed their greedy looks at that cabinet. In a few moments, its door creaked open slowly. Nothing was happening for a few moments, and the cabinet just stood with its door open. Then, suddenly, a powerful flow of folded envelopes flew out of it and headed towards the enrolees. They flew through the empty area of the hall and settled on the tables before them. The hall was filled with pleased shouts of the enrolees. From the outside, it could seem that they had dreamed about this moment all their lives.

“Finally! A feathermap of my own!” El exclaimed happily, quickly unfolding his feathermap and running his hand over it in delight.

“But there’s nothing on it!” William remarked in wonder when he unfolded his feathermap, which was folded like an envelope.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be!” El said as happily. “It’s not a world map, mate! It’s a feathermap! Addresses appear on it with time, when it is necessary! And what is more important – I will be able to peregrine on my own first time in my life time!”

“That’s how it works!” William said, examining his map. Then he folded it and hid it in the pocket of his doublet. “Well, there’ll be time to examine it closely.”

When everyone had calmed down, Frau Bertha spoke again.

“These are the feathermaps with the addresses of the houses where your study cycles will take place. In case you lose your feathermap, you must come to the Emergency Department of the Education Department and report the loss not later than a day after the event! Otherwise, you will have to order a new one and it will take no less than a year to have it made and delivered. So be very careful with it! And now,” she turned to her right and waved her silver magic feather again. The candles in that part of the hall lit up and revealed a choir made up of boys and girls in crimson robes with white collars and gloves, “the traditional well-wish song of the Viennese Choir!”

She put out all the candles of the Ball Hall, leaving only the ones that illuminated the choir itself. Suddenly, an old tall slim wizard in a dress-coat came out of the darkness and stood in front of the choir. He took a very long feather out of his sleeve, froze for a moment and waved his unusual baton. And the choir started singing their well-wish song, accompanied by an invisible piano. Everything drowned in the melodic, but rather gloomy performance of the choir.

We’ll discover a new world tonight

Within this castle’s walls!

Let all the stars shine bright upon

The feast that fills its halls!

We have been gathered here again

To be united like before

And to be taught the magic arts,

Not to be called to war!

Tonight we swear to pledge our hearts

To feathers that we wield!

We’ll hit the books and study well

And never shall we yield!

Our path may not be always smooth,

It leads outside this world,

We’ll start at once, we’ll stay alert,

And hold our feathers bold!

Soar up into the sky like wind!

And dip our feathers in

The wizard house of knowledge

And truths that lie within!

That knowledge flows from feathers

Of wizards from the past.

We build the nests for offspring

And flake away the dust!

The knowledge knows no limits!

We praise it and we sing

For youngsters, so they know about

The powers feathers bring.

Feather Masters, you’ve been born

Into this world of Sun

To eagerly pursue the work

By Former Masters done.

Remember our Fraternal Choir

It sings to be your guide!

Won’t you give up the magic arts

Before you’ve even tried?

Remember our Fraternal Choir,

We sing to cease alarm.

Beauty, Power, Wisdom

Will keep you safe from harm!

After the choir had finished singing its well-wish song, there was a moment of silence in the hall and then the candles soaring over the choir died out slowly, as if blown out by a gust of wind, and other candles lit up, behind Frau Bertha’s back. There were tables set for rectors in the revealed area of the Ball Hall. They were also standing in a semi-circle, visually locking the enrolee semi-circle into an oval. Suddenly the Ball Hall was filled with the ringing of an invisible bell and everyone froze, waiting for the first MUni delegation to arrive. When the ringing stopped, a tree started growing behind the left table, right through the floor, it had a wide trunk and it grew twenty feet tall. Thick long branches stretched from the tree to each chair and once they had reached the chairs, they stopped. The next moment everyone gasped in amazement – professors of Garville started climbing down the thick branches of the huge oak tree out of nowhere. The last was its rector, Walter van Velzen, who climbed down the central biggest branch.

When all seven of them sat at their table, the thick branches drew back quickly and huge feathers started growing on them. And Garville’s yellow green flag popped out of the leaves, depicting a tree with wide foliage and massive branches that had feathers instead of leaves, which symbolized teaching magic with the tree of knowledge.

This was followed by loud applause, which was interrupted by the second ring of the bell, now announcing the delegation of the second MUni. Amazed enrolees fell silent expectantly.

A few moments later, it started snowing right onto the second table. First there were only a few snowflakes, then more and more, until there was a blizzard behind the table and dark figures dressed in fur coats started coming out if it to sit on the chairs set for them. The last was the rector of Wingville – Avantius Abraham Ortelius. When the seven of them sat down, a snow mountain appeared behind their back, just as large as the massive oak tree of Garville. Its top was surrounded by fast-flying feathers, with a large bald eagle over it, intertwining its feathers with the whirlwind of flying ones. And it let out a cry, which spread all over the Ball Hall. The next moment the eagle opened its large wings and halves of Wingville’s flag came out of each wing, uniting into one immediately. Snowflakes were falling from the flag and they reached the ground as feathers, a symbol of the thawing of frozen knowledge.

There was another loud ovation and it was once again interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Enrolees froze in silent expectation again. Their attention was all on the next table, that was why they didn’t instantly notice that the last table, closest to the girl’s half, started smoking, first just a little bit, then more and more, then sparkles appeared. The girls sitting closest to it gasped, thinking that the fired had started. Everyone turned to the noise and were horrified to see that the fire, already covering table legs, now climbed onto the chairs and they flared up. General alarm soon turned into open panic, but suddenly the burning chairs seated six wizards with stern expressions on their faces. There was the Findsor delegation before them, awaiting their rector. He didn’t keep them waiting for long and the next moment the empty chair was occupied by Ignatius Balbus in his long scarlet robes. The fire that seemed to have taken everything around them, started gathering in the centre of the table after his arrival, retreating from chairs and other furniture and forming a fire pit. The next moment, frightened enrolees witnessed the scene when this fire pit suddenly rose the air and turned into a large Phoenix, which started circling the Findsor delegation. Its large feathers fell down from time to time, burnt away and turned into thick dusty tomes, symbolising the immortal nature of knowledge. The fire symbolized the magic feather, which served as the light of a hero’s knowledge and abilities and as a weapon of destruction in the hands of a villain.

The enrolees clapped again in delight and when the applauding stopped, everyone froze waiting for the delegation from Templedoor. But instead of another ring of the bell, there was dead silence in the Ball Hall. It lasted for about a minute. And when the enrolees, who had been holding their breath, started talking, discussing the delay of the arrival of the Templedoor delegation and already doubting if they were going to come at all, the Ball Hall was shaken by the loud ringing of the bell. Everyone fell silent again and started waiting. At first, nothing was happening. Then a light breeze filled the Ball Hall. Soon the breeze turned into a really strong wind, then a hurricane, which put out all the candles in the Ball Hall at once. The Ball Hall was immersed in the darkness, and only Phoenix soaring above the Findsor table illuminated the rector tables a little bit. But even in this dim light, everyone was able to see how the wind made the Templedoor delegation table soar up into the air and start to spin wildly. Everyone was watching this with open fear. The spinning lasted for a while and suddenly the enrolees were able to make out figures in this whirlwind, which quickly appeared on the chairs. After that, the table and the chairs started to descend, still spinning madly until it touched the floor, stopping its wild spinning and revealing six wizards. The wizards cheerfully waved at the enrolees. Young wizards didn’t notice right away that the last chair was still spinning in the air and only then it started to descend, spinning slower with each round until it touched the floor. And everyone saw that this chair was occupied by the grey-haired noble-looking rector of Templedoor, Ferzibald Fafner. Meanwhile, a few feet above the table of the Templedoor delegation there formed a whirlwind of feathers. And white-blue Templedoor flag rolled out from the middle of this whirlwind. The flag had crossed feathers depicted on it, red and golden. The first, red one, was obviously a magic one, and the second, golden feather seemed to be a writing feather, judging by its looks. This duality symbolized knowledge intertwined with magic. The magic feather on the flag twisted its tip around the writing feather, forming letter ‘T’.

The enrolees, delighted with the ceremonial performance given by the delegations of the four MUnies, all stood up and clapped their hands, filling the Ball Hall with unending applaud and festive mood. Even Frau Bertha seemed to be a more attractive person at that moment and looked kinder against the background of the general celebration.

“This is the most spectacular performance I’ve ever seen!” El shouted to William so that he could hear him over the overall racket.

“Yes” William shouted in response. “I completely agree!”

When the clapping stopped, Frau Bertha came out and addressed the enrolees.

“Among all MUnies where young wizards are taught magic arts, Garville, Wingville, Findsor, and Templedoor have been the leading MUnies of the world for many centuries!” she said ceremoniously. But despite this, her voice still sounded unpleasant. According to El, the heavy German accent was able to ruin any, even the most kind and festive, speech.

Meanwhile, Frau Bertha continued:

“Tonight, at the Annual Enrolee Ball, you will have the opportunity to learn about the system and the teaching method of each MUni directly from their rectors. This will help you later, while you’re studying at the Preparatory Course, to select the magic arts academy where you will continue your education!”

Drunk with the thought that in a year they would become a part of one of these MUnies, the enrolees once again broke the silence with their loud clapping. Frau Bertha gestured for them to be silent and once they were, she said loudly:

“But before that, let the rhythms of waltz fill Alpurg!”

With a wave of her feather, she immediately put out most of the candles soaring above the tables, covering them with the mysterious semi-darkness. Then there was a second wave, which lit the candles that were soaring over the dancing floor, invisible until then. They illuminated the glass floor with bright blue water shining underneath. William couldn’t help remembering the Waiting Hall at the Cabstation. Rich blue light filled the Ball Hall with velvety water reflections, and the inclusions of azure, white, and grey colours made the water shine with enchanted light. It rose in waves under the floor made of thick glass, mysteriously shining in the light of thousands of candles soaring over it. And with the third and no less ceremonious wave of her feather, Frau Bertha lit the candles soaring over the orchestra pit, with many wizards sitting there in blue and white robes. The next moment, the first sounds of a medieval waltz filled the Ball Hall. As on a cue, the male part of the enrolees, as if it was planned ahead, stood up and headed to the table where girls were sitting in pink and bright blue robes. The girls accepted the invitations from the young gentlemen and stood up to dance with them. William and El were among the few ones, who weren’t really left without a partner, but had completely no intention of inviting anyone. William was sitting with a silly expression on his face, while El was looking around in a very criminal kind of way, as if waiting for the right moment to slip away from the Ball Hall and sneak into the Portrait Hall. When William noticed that, he asked:

“Listen, El, how are we going to get out of here unnoticed? If we’re caught, we’ll be immediately sent home and expelled from the Preparatory Course!”

“I highly doubt that, mate! We’ve survived all this not to just allow them to expel us, right? Besides,” he added , still looking around, “the doors to the Hall are slightly open. If we try, we can slip through the gap and then return the same way. I think, by the time the rectors start speaking, we’ll be already back.”

“But how can we approach the doors unnoticed? Frau Bertha is standing near them now and she’s unlikely to keep her attention away from us if she notices us there.”

“Yes, that’s a bit difficult! We need to really use our feathers before doing that!” El agreed in a busy-like manner.

“But we don’t have time for that. We need to get there just in time, when Bardalf meets that second guy.”

Deeply involved in the discussion of their plan, they didn’t notice two girls in pompous dresses, pink and blue, who had approached them. The girls exchanged indecisive looks, then the one in the blue dress addressed them.

“How do you find the ball? I’m Dar and this is my friend Adele! We’ve been thinking that you’re the only ones who came to the ball in doublets, and, funny thing, we’re also the only ones who’s put on these pompous medieval dresses, so…” she gave an awkward smile. “Would you like to dance?” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Hi!” William replied vividly. “Yes, they have a real problem with outfits around here! And the ball is amazing!”

“Great, now there are four idiots! We can go ahead and start a club!” El grunted, unhappy with the company, giving the girl in blue a side look, then added: “What kind of stupid name is that – Dar!”

“At least, I’m polite enough to say it!” she snapped.

“Dar, come on!” the other girl, named Adele, intervened, then addressed the boys: “Several boys invited us to dance, but they were wearing robes and we thought that we’d look silly if our partners were wearing robes.”

“Don’t pay attention to my friend, he’s a bit excited,” William hurried to interject. “I’m Will and this is El! I’m sure he’ll be delighted to invite you to dance, Dar! Just like I don’t mind waltzing with you around the whoooole…” he looked around the hall, “Ball Hall, Adele!”

“What?! Will, are you out of…” El faltered and his brows, locked in an irritated frown because of the unwanted company, suddenly smoothed out and he smiled widely. He stood up, performed a kind of a gallant bow, offered his hand to Dar, inviting her to dance.

She took his hand, and El and William, politely holding their partners’ hands, took them to the waltz floor. On the way, El leaned closer to William and asked:

“How many circles?”

“Two! But before that, I’ll explain everything to her, so that they could cover us later.”

“You’re a genius!”

“You too!”

“I know” El winked and they took their partners aside and started waltzing.

Before, William had to waltz only once, in a junior school play. He had learned back then, that the most important thing in waltz was not stepping on your partner’s toes. El, who could be seen nearby, was yet to learn that rule. After making the first dance moves, William started moving away from the other pairs together with his partner, and when she noticed that they had almost reached the doors, she wanted to say something, but he was the first to speak:

“Listen, don’t get me wrong, please, but you’ve got to help us!”

“Help you? But how?”

“You see, El and I need to get out of the Ball Hall unseen, but before that, we need to avoid the omnipresent look of Frau Bertha. Otherwise, we’ll have to dry the dishes in the kitchen again or, worse, we’ll be sent home and expelled from the Preparatory Course,” William said, finishing the first round and waltzed back to the centre.

“But where are you going?” Adele asked, puzzled.

“You see, we have some urgent business we can’t talk about! We really can’t do it without you! Will you help us?”

“What do I need to do?”

“Nothing! Just follow my moves. We’ll now dance to the door and you and your friend will cover us with your wide dresses, so that we could get out unseen. We’ll be back in twenty minutes and it’ll be great if you stand with your backs to the doors by that time, so that we could sneak back in.”

Adele made an unhappy face, then asked with a faint hope:

“But we’ll we be able to dance normally after that?”

“Of course” he smiled at her. “We’ll continue our dance, I promise!”

“Does your friend know what to do?”

“Oh yes!” He was pleased to see the ghostly white face of El, dancing towards the doors of the Hall with his partner.

“Poor Dar!” Adele glanced over at them. “I can imagine how mad she’ll be when she finds out she’s been used! I don’t envy your friend.”

“But you can explain everything to her, can you?” William gave her a pleading look.

After a bit of thinking, she replied:

“Fine! I’ll convince her not to kill him right away!”

“I owe you!”

“Sure!”

They danced to the half-open door of the Ball Hall elegantly and during the last spin, William was lucky enough to get through the gap at the end of the spin. El joined him a moment later. But, unlike William’s, his passage through the doors of the Ball Hall was much less elegant and completely ungraceful. Besides, William thought that El was pushed out of the hall.

“Will! This isn’t a girl, she’s a dangerous criminal! I’m seriously against seeing her again even once in my life!”

“These are mere details, El! Let’s not waste out time. Let’s head to the stairs!”

They headed to the Portrait Hall, glancing around all the time to make sure nobody was watching them.

“She threatened to cut off my hand with her feather, the one I used to invite her to the dance, for using her! I’m scared of her, mate! Remember, you’ll have to deal with her later!” El said emotionally, going up the stairs quickly. “I don’t want to come back to London one-handed! What will the wizards think of me?”

“Calm down, El, Adele will talk her out of it! Hurry now, we don’t have much time. At quarter to one we need to come back. We’ll only listen till the part we overheard yesterday. This way we’ll save some time and we’ll be able to come back at a set time.”

“Time set by WHOM?!”

“I’ve arranged it with Adele! She and her friend will be waiting for us at the doors. And we’ll sneak back, like nothing’s happened, take their hands by the door, and continue dancing.”

“WHAT?! Dancing with that psychopath again?! Do you know how many times she’s threatened me during those three and a half minutes, mate? I’m telling you, she’s dangerous!” El said quickly, when they were in the corridor leading to the Portrait Hall.

“You’ll live, Ell! We have other things to do, if you haven’t forgotten.”

“Live? Well, I really hope so, mate! Because live means surviving, not being a corpse, not kicking the bucket! And I,” El was really worried, “I really hope I won’t part with my life when she’s enraged!”

While they were talking, they had reached the doors of the Portrait Hall and when they turned the handle, they found themselves in pitch darkness.

“Take out your feather, El! I don’t know the light spell!” William whispered.

“A moment!” El said over his ear. “Illuminatio!” he said and some feeble light came out of his magic feather, able only to illuminate the floor under his feet. “I’m not really good at this spell yet! I only use it for the second time!” he explained awkwardly. “Why couldn’t we wait for Bardalf outside, where there’s a lot of light?”

“Because we can be caught over there! Who knows who might pass by and then our plans are ruined! No matter! Let’s go! Over there.”

They barely made a few steps, when there was a thud somewhere in the depths of the Portrait Hall, and El, instantly reacting, pulled William somewhere.

“Come!” he pointed towards the window, where a few portraits stood by the wall, waiting for the moment to be hanged on the wall.

The boys reached the lifesaving hideout in a few steps. El hurried to put out the light on his magic feather.

“Pulmus!” he said and the light was instantly out. They looked out cautiously, waiting for Bardalf to come out of hall, to follow him.

The thud was followed by another sound that filled the entire hall. This time it was the creaking of the opening door. Someone’s steps could be clearly heard in the darkness of the Portrait Hall, and soon a tall figure could be seen, dressed in robes and holding a candle. He slowly walked to the doors of the Portrait Hall. Thinking at first that it was Bardalf, heading to his night companion, William and El were going to leave their hideout to follow him, but after reaching the doors, the tall figure turned around and slowly walked back. This repeated a few more times and the two friends realized to their horror, that it wasn’t a sculpture, but someone quite alive. He was pacing the room for a while and the low candle light showed that he was dragging something long along the floor. But there were no more doubts that this wasn’t Bardalf Gramm. Suddenly, the tall figure stopped for a moment in front of Deverell Calhoun’s portrait, examining it, then continued pacing the hall. The two friends were watching him closely, when the silence, broken only by the steps of the tall figure and El’s ragged breath, was interrupted by another sound, like paper crumpling. William thought of Nymus. The next moment he and El saw a second figure separating itself from the portrait of Will’s ancestor, as tall as the first figure. In a moment, he was standing behind the first one. A calm gloomy voice, which resembled whistling, could be heard in the Portrait Hall.

“Your posture is still as straight, Quincy!”

At these words, the first figure continued standing motionless, as if he froze. And the newcomer from the portrait continued:

“I can see that the centuries haven’t bent you…” and added after a short pause: “And neither has the burden of betrayal on your neck!”

“You haven’t been bent by the grave either,” the one called Quincy said coldly. He turned to face the second figure and added: “And those frequent bows to the Duke all those years ago!”

“As you can see, garafa!” At this, the second figure made a mock bow, after which he directed his feather at Quincy. “Did you really think that the County wouldn’t be able to reach you?”

There was some tense silence that was broken by the same voice.

“No… Deep inside you always knew that this time would come, Quincy. Each night, like this one, you fell asleep worried, expecting those you’d betrayed to come and demand answers to many questions…”

“I buried your feather personally,” Quincy interrupted him in a calm, yet slightly frightened voice. “Who dug you out, Augustus?”

“Death!..” The wizard that came out of the portrait suddenly lowered his magic feather and started slowly walking along the wall with portraits. “It returned me from the grave.”

These words made William’s heart sink and he felt El squirming behind his back. Meanwhile, Augustus continued:

“It was stupid of you not to get rid of the portrait,” he stopped by the portrait of Deverell Calhoun and gave it an interested look, after which he continued: “The Seventh Offspring is dead and you are to blame, garafa! But the Duke…” he paused at this word, enjoying the frightened reaction from Quincy. “He’d found the way back…”

Arrogant calm and fake composure had left Quincy at these words.

“It’s a lie!” His voice trembled suddenly. “He’s been dead for many centuries! And even we, counts, never knew where his grave was!”

“You’ve been stripped off the title by the County long ago and you’re nobody to consider yourself one of us. You’ve never been so stupid as to ignore the facts even now, Quincy. The Cold Court will soon be full of the nobles from the Black Escort, and everything you used to call a nightmare… all of that will return together with us.”

“The Cold Court was disbanded centuries ago and it’s been exile ever since it lost its Head Nobleman! And its members like you have been rotting in their graves for a long time!” Quincy was almost shouting.

But Augustus just calmly objected:

“But as you can see, I’m here… standing beside you like before. Only I hadn’t come before to stop your worthless breathing. But tonight it will leave you, Quincy… just as you’d treacherously left us, showing us your true face.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Augustus. You may as well be here, beside me, but you’re miserably weak if you’ve sneaked into the castle at night, like a thief scared to be found. Before, you’d never been stopped by the number or the quality of your enemies. All you’ve been able to do is to catch me off guard.”

“You overestimate yourself if you think that I’ve come all this way to kill such a cowardly creature like yourself. I’ve come here to take back what you haven’t used for a long time.”

At this, Quincy seemed to be at loss for a moment.

“What is it?”

“A front door!” Augustus said with a smile.

“You and other counts are just pale memories in the minds of the Wizard Community! Nobody remembers you, you’re forgotten! Which means nobody is scared of you. And you, Augustus, shouldn’t have come tonight! All the rectors, together with Fafner, are right below us and they’ll come here any moment!”

These words made the one called Augustus freeze for a moment, after which he grinned and said:

“The Dark Nobleman has risen, and Fafner doesn’t have long to live. Just like you, Quincy!” After saying this, Augustus swiftly directed his feather at Quincy and said loudly: “Metero Mori!” A red beam burst out of his magic feather, striking the opponent’s magic feather, after which it flew out and pierced the hand that had been holding it.

Quincy von Bulberg, the president of the International Federation of Wizards, lay dead on the floor. His murderer, whom the deceased had called Augustus, turned to the portrait of Deverell Calhoun again and directed his magic feather at the portrait now.

“Avulsum!” he said quietly and part of the portrait was torn from the canvas and fell on the floor. The murderer took the torn piece of the canvas and peregrined in a hurry.

Witnesses to the scene, William and El exchanged frightened looks and wanted to leave their hideout, when they heard approaching voices of wizards.

“How did they know about it so fast? We’re screwed, Will!” El was terrified, William was in deep shock after seeing all that.

“What are we going to do?” he asked El in alarm.

“Wait and stay put! There’s nothing else left to do!” He’d barely said that, when the doors of the Portrait Hall opened suddenly and several wizards entered it.

“Illuminatio!” said a powerful voice and the next moment all candles in the Portrait Hall were lit. The two friends could now see the faces of everyone in there.

They recognized Fafner in the spell caster. The other three rectors stood behind him, followed by several Templedoor professors, which William had remembered well, back at the Ball Hall.

“It’s Quincy von Bulberg!” Garville’s rector, van Velzen, cried out. “How did he come to be here?”

William looked at the body only then and realized that the deceased had been dragging his long grey beard along the floor, its tip burnt for some reason. Fafner examined that body and when he turned it over, everyone froze, eyeing the sight before them: von Bulberg’s magic feather was sticking out of his palm and the palm was blackened, as if burnt completely. There were a few moments of silence. Abraham Ortelius, the rector of Wingville, was the first to break the silence.

“Counts?” There was sincere surprise in his voice, tinged with fear.

“He’s dead,” Fafner said in a calm voice, as if he didn’t hear the question. “Dead for only a few minutes. His feather isn’t cold yet.” He carefully removed von Bulberg’s feather out of his palm, directed his own feather at it and said quietly: “Repetare!”

Von Bulberg’s feather disappeared for a moment and appeared again on Fafner’s hand.

“He didn’t even fight back!” van Velzen gasped, seeing that the last spell of the magic feather was peregrining.

“Quincy really was absent from the castle tonight,” Fafner continued calmly, “but he decided to return. He obviously had a good reason for that,” after a bit of thoughtful silence he added: “A reason that was able to kill him.”

“But who could have done it, Ferzibald?” Balbus, the rector of Findsor, broke the silence. “The black hand… it’s…”

“A visiting card of the County Without Banners, Ignatius,” Fafner had an expression of someone who was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle.

“But what could have happened at a night like this?” Ortelius addressed him.

“The same thing as downstairs, Avantius, - dancing!” Fafner replied.

“What does dancing have to do with it, Ferzibald?”

“There was dancing in the castle tonight,” Fafner still remained impassive. “But the main part of it,” he glanced at the burnt hand of the dead man, “happened without witnesses.”

“Paradalsus Dance!” a wizard stepped forward, he’d been standing in the shadow, watching the rest quietly. It was one of the Templedoor professors.

“That’s right, Fabius!” Fafner said, still staring at von Bulberg’s hand, then added in a gloomy voice: “Besides, the dead danced tonight!”

“But how did they get into the castle? It’s impossible to peregrine here by usual means!” Velzen said indignantly.

“Alpurg is an unusual castle, Walter,” Fafner stared at the man now. “There are many things that are out of the ordinary.”

“I think we can consider the ball over after this. We can return now!” Balbus spoke again.

Ortelius immediately supported his suggestion, hiding his nervousness and fear caused by the mere mention of the counts even less than Ignatius Balbus.

“I also find that staying here isn’t safe anymore.“ He realized that he had given away his fear and hurried to add: “If presidents are being killed… I have to think about the safety of my professors at once! I’m going back to my teachers, then I’m peregrining immediately! Good-bye, gentlemen!”

“Fare well, Avantius!” Fafner said over his shoulder, still looking at von Bulberg’s body.

When Avantius had left the Portrait Hall, Fafner addressed the other two rectors:

“You should make sure your professors are safe as well, my friends!”

“See you next time, Ferzibald!” Balbus bowed.

“IF the counts are back,” van Velzen spoke, “then let us all hope they aren’t accompanied by anyone,” He gave Fafner a meaningful look and followed the others.

Now, besides Fafner, there were only Fabius Fulvius and two Templedoor professors left in the Portrait Hall.

“Do you really think it’s the noblemen’s work? They haven’t announced their presence so openly for many years,” as Fabius Fulvius was saying that, he kept staring at Quincy’s hand, as if there was some kind of a mystery hidden in it.

“You know perfectly well, Fabius, that hands like this,” Fafner pointed at the hand of the dead von Bulberg, “appear only under the same circumstances!” He got up suddenly and added: “Send for Homer! He’ll want to know about this.”

Fabius Fulvius left the room to return in a minute, saying:

“He’ll be here soon, I’ve sent a mailmage for him.”

Meanwhile, Fafner was standing by the portrait of Deverell Calhoun and looking at it distantly.

“What do you think about this portrait, Fabius?” he suddenly addressed him.

Fulvius approached the portrait and stood beside Fafner. He started examining the portrait, after which he pointed at the lower part of the portrait:

“Do you think it was here left since that time?”

“Looks like it,” Fafner ran his hand over the stolen piece of the canvas, then added: “This feathermap was used only by certain people…”

“And with certain titles!” bellowed a sturdy old man, who had just entered the Portrait Hall, in response to Fafner phrase.

He had another wizard in grey robes with him, and El cursed under his breath when he saw him.

“Homer!” Fafner turned to him.

“Good night, Ferzibald!”

“It’s not a good night to meet you, my friends,” Fafner turned his back to the portrait and welcomed Homer Allford, the head of the wizhunter service, and his deputy Marvin Gibbs, El’s father. There were two more young wizards with them, who remained standing by the door.

A moment later, William and El heard an approaching voice, coming from the corridor, which made their head ache second day in a row and which they did their best to avoid.

“Baron von Bulberg!” Frau Bertha cried in tears. She came in and instantly kneeled by the body of the dead man. “Who could have done this?”

“Quincy was the president of the International Federation of Wizards, Frau Bertha, and a lot of wizards could have wished him dead. But only one managed to achieve it and we don’t know yet who that was,” Fafner said severely.

“That’s right, Ferzibald!” Allford said. “But we’ll soon find out who that was!” And he addressed Frau Bertha: “Did you know that Quincy was at the castle tonight?”

“No, Herr Allford, I’m surprised myself.” She still looked very shocked. “He was going to return only by tomorrow evening, as he said before peregrining to New Zealand.” She started crying again. “To commit such a horrible crime!”

“Well, there have been crimes worse than this!” Allford bellowed grumpily, making Frau Bertha glare at him, because to her Quincy von Bulberg was the most important wizard in the whole world and she couldn’t image anything worse than his death.

She was getting a sharp reply ready to this scornful remark about von Bulberg, but Fafner, who was thinking about something, was faster.

“Frau Bertha,” he said, “I believe, the enrolees don’t have to know what happened here tonight. When they leave, they’ll learn about it from newspapers, and at the moment, there’s no need to scare their imagination before the journey.” He turned to Marvin Gibbs, El’s father. “Marvin, would you be so kind to escort Frau Bertha to her quarters safely.”

“Come, Frau Bertha, allow me to accompany you!” he replied, then turned to Fafner and asked: “Ferzibald, and what about the kids, are they…”

“They are alright, Marvin, don’t worry. They were taken to their rooms when we headed here.”

“Alright, then!” Marvin Gibbs said and left the Portrait Hall, holding Frau Bertha’s hand.

“When did it happen?” Allford asked.

He got down on one knee and started examining von Bulberg’s burnt hand.

“About half an hour ago, during the ball,” Fafner replied.

“Any witnesses?”

Fafner’s eyes glanced around the Portrait Hall, pausing at the portrait William and El were hiding behind, then turned back to Allford:

“None! Except for the portraits… But they know no more than we do,” he added a moment later. “All children were in the Ball Hall, now they are in the living-rooms set for them, under curator supervision.@

At this, William and El, still hiding behind the portrait leaned against the window, exchanged looks nervously.

“There’s no sign of struggle!” Allford followed Fafner’s example and looked around the Portrait Hall. “Have you checked the last spell of his feather, Ferzibald?”

“Peregrining,” Fafner replied shortly.

“Bah! The poor fellow didn’t even fight back… But Quincy von Bulberg was a very powerful spell caster!” After a short pause, he added: “Well, the Counts always knew what they were doing. That’s their doing, right?”

“The County Without Banners has been leaving similar messages to us for a while now, Homer. And I believe wizhunters will check certain places to see if the old residents are back…” Fafner gave Allford a meaningful look as he was saying that.

But he seemed to have no clue what he was talking about.

“You don’t think, Ferzibald, that…”

“I’m quite sure about it!” Fafner didn’t let him finish. “Now good night, Homer. I’m going back to Templedoor.” And he peregrined.

Fabius Fulvius and two other Templedoor teaches followed him. William and El continued nervously waiting for the others to peregrine to get out of their hideout and sneak back to the enrolee rooms. But Allford, who’d’ just ordered his assistants to take the body and peregrine with it, stayed behind and gave the portraits a thoughtful look. Soon Marvin Gibbs was back.

“No trouble downstairs?” Allford asked him.

“If you don’t count Frau Bertha, whom I barely managed to convince not to come back here and who was crying all the way to her quarters, no trouble!” Marvin Gibbs replied.

“Well, then, let’s go back to the Wiz Yard. Tomorrow the journalists will turn the place upside down and will demand answers, so we’re in for a rough night!”

“I’ve left two of our wizards by the doors, they will make sure nobody comes in here until we find at least some clue.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Allford looked around the Portrait Hall once more and peregrined, followed by Marvin Gibbs.

William and El, locked in the Portrait Hall, where a murder had happened recently, realized that they were trapped.

“May I be trice enchanted!” El cursed, climbing out of their hideout after William. “We’ve got ourselves into some mess, Will!”

“We’ve become witnesses to the murder of the president of the International Federation of Wizards himself, and now we’re also locked at a crime scene! Yes, the future starts to promise us only trouble!” William remarked and approached the portrait of his ancestor. “The murderer made his way into the Portrait Hall from here! But how?!”

“That’s easy – feathermap! The portrait of your relative is nothing else but a feathermap, pal! But…” El looked around the whole Portrait Hall attentively, “I’m worried about a different thing…”

“What’s that?”

“How Bulberg managed to get in here!”

“Good question! I’ve forgotten about it.”

“Because if we manage to find that out, we’ll be able to follow his route and get out of here unseen!”

“Well, in that case, I can’t see the point in sitting idly any longer!”

They started examining everything in the Portrait Hall, everything that could give them a clue about getting out of it.

“There must be a secret door somewhere around here!” William pointed at the walls, when they started examining each little bit of them.

“There’s not even a hint to a VERY secret door, not just a secret door!” El said in frustration after he and Will had examined every millimetre of the wall.

“But he did enter this place somehow, El! We both saw that he hadn’t come in through the front door.”

“Maybe he had entered the hall before us and by the time we came in, he was already here?” El supposed.

“Yes, and he didn’t react to our presence in his castle in any way after seeing us!” William rejected his version. “Besides, remember, we did hear the creaking of a door!”

“Well, I don’t know, then!” El grunted gloomily.

“Well, looks like we’ll have to spend a night in here. We’re locked in here because of that wizhunter!”

“That wizhunter is my dad! So try to express your unhappiness in a more delicate way,” El said strictly.

“What?!”

“Well yes, Marvin Gibbs, the deputy of the head of the wizhunter service, is my dad! He took Frau Nastiness to her room, and on the way he came to the same opinion as me, that she’s a swamp fly.”

“And you were hiding instead of going to him and explaining everything?” William couldn’t believe his ears.

“What would I’ve told him? Hi, dad! I’ve become an accident witness of president Bulberg kicking the feathers? Besides, we have no idea who the killer was, apart from the fact that his name is Augustus.”

“I understand. It’s not your fault, it was me who dragged you into this mess!”

“Yes, but I went here voluntarily, so it’s not your fault! There’s only one problem, and this problem is called “how to leave the Portrait Hall unseen”! And then there’s the second one, called ‘Frau Bertha’! By the way, I can imagine her face when she’ll be telling the enrolees about the tonight’s events: “It’s a great honour for you to be at Alpurg on the night of the murder of Baron von Bulberg!” he copied Frau Bertha’s pompous face.

“Come on, El, you saw it yourself, she was very upset when she came here. It’s not a very polite thing to laugh at such things.”

“Well, sorry, mate! It’s not every day that Quincy von Bulberg gets killed right before my eyes! It’s a real shock to me as well! And it’s so big that the fear makes me joke nervously!”

“Alright, forget it! I’m just a bit disappointed by the way reality doesn’t match our plans.”

“I understand! But there’s a bright side to this whole story: I didn’t have to meet Dar again! Then I’d have looked not much better that poor Bulberg.”

“El! Don’t be so childish. We should think on how to get out of here!”

“Well, that’s easy! We’ve got a real chance to do it. Tomorrow morning or by lunch time, they should be back and we’ll get out of here unseen!”

“Well, I sure hope so!”

“I wonder what Fafner meant when he told Allford about certain places and their old residents?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, but nothing came to my mind. Maybe he meant prisons?”

“Perhaps so!” He looked around again, hoping to find a secret door.

“What are we going to do now?”

“I’m not even going to think about your question!” El replied. “Sleep, of course! We’re in for another hard day in Germany tomorrow!”

“I agree with you on that!”

Soon, William found a rather comfortable place behind one of the statues, while El was already snoring nearby.

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