Oliver still couldn’t quite believe he’d been in the presence of Sir Isaac Newton. But he also knew he had to focus and find the mysterious shrouded school.
He held up the spyglass, peering into the direction he’d originally seen the light on the horizon. It was still there, a burst of aquamarine rays.
“It’s that way,” Oliver said, pointing.
He, Esther, and Ralph headed into the busy streets.
It was just starting to rain as they began to walk the narrow cobbled streets of 1690s London. It was extremely noisy and the air was thick with the smell of garbage, smoldering metal, horse manure and urine. Oliver could hardly believe that over a third of the population had recently perished, considering how overcrowded the city still was. It must have been even worse before, though Oliver couldn’t imagine how all those people had fit in.
“WATCH OUT!” a voice suddenly shouted from behind.
The three friends leapt to the side just in time for a horse rider to come galloping past. The horses’ hooves splashed into the puddles, spraying them all in cold rain water and manure.
Esther looked appalled. She stared down at her disgusting clothes. “Well, that’s just great.”
Ralph grimaced. “Now what?”
“We’re right by an inn,” Oliver said, gesturing to a sign that read The Lion. “Let’s go inside and dry off.”
They went into the pub. It was warm, with a crackling fire. But very little light came in through the windows, which appeared to be covered up with dark curtains, giving the space a sort of seedy vibe. The only light came from small candles on each table. It also smelled musty, like ale and cooked meat, and was filled with tables and patrons. Clearly the early hour of the day didn’t matter too much to the drinking men of London.
As Oliver and his friends went over to the fireplace, every pair of eyes in the room followed them. Oliver got the immediate feeling that coming in here had been a bad idea.
“Oi,” the barman called in a gruff voice. He was standing behind the bar cleaning glasses with a rag. “What are you lot drinking?”
Oliver was taken aback by the question. They were clearly children. They weren’t here to drink!
“Nothing, thank you,” he stammered. “We just came in here to get out of the rain and dry off.”
“Dry off?” the barman said angrily. “Does this pub look like an umbrella to you?” He sniffed, clearly catching a waft of the horse manure they’d been splattered with. “What are you, beggars?”
Oliver shrank back, definitely feeling like coming in here was a terrible idea. The rest of the patrons were staring at them too, like they clearly didn’t belong.
“Let’s get out of here,” Esther said.
“That’s right!” the landlord shouted. “Scram!”
They started to back away for the door.
Just then, a group of young teenage boys who’d been sitting at the window stood up. They blocked their route out of the inn. The tallest one stood at the front of the pack. He looked filthy, his clothes little more than rags. Oliver immediately saw scabs on his knuckles. This kid was a regular fighter. A local ruffian looking for trouble.
“Don’t worry,” the boy shouted over to the barman. “We’ll teach these pipsqueaks a lesson.”
He pushed over a chair. It went flying to the floor with a loud bang.
Oliver gulped. A bar brawl was the last thing he wanted to get involved in right now. It was an even less welcome diversion from their mission than the horse manure had been!
“We’re leaving,” Oliver told the boy. “We don’t want a fight.”
The boy just grinned, showing off the gaps where his teeth ought to have been. “Well, I do.”
Around them, the rest of the patrons were getting excited. They clearly wanted to witness a brawl. Violence and entertainment went hand in hand in the seventeenth century, Oliver thought.
He looked over his shoulder at Esther on one side, then Ralph on the next. Oliver could see in their eyes that both had already gone into the trancelike state needed to tap into their powers. He personally really did not want to use up his powers for a situation like this; it was draining and he wanted to save them for any possible rogues that may be after them. But he also knew that there was no other way the three of them could fend the teenagers off. They were bigger. Tougher. And they clearly did this on the regular. There was no other option.
“All right then,” Oliver said with a sigh, pushing up his overall sleeves. “You asked for it.”
Ralph was the first to take action. Using his biological specialism, he turned his attention to the candles on each table. Suddenly, each flame grew, transforming from a small flame to a huge foot-high blast, like pillars of fire. From the hearth, he made the fire burst outward in a blast. The heat in the room increased tenfold.
The patrons still at their tables leapt back in the air, screaming. “Witches! Devils!”
If the teenage ruffians were scared by Ralph’s display of power, they hid it from their expressions and continued to advance on Oliver, Esther, and Ralph.
Esther cast out her powers next. She used her sonar specialism to make a make a shrill high-pitched sound pulse out from where she stood. It moved in waves, each one shriller and louder than the last. This time, the ruffians had no choice but to react. They cried out, grabbing their ears in pain.
But it didn’t hamper them for long. The leader grew furious. He bashed another chair across the room, this time with another force to splinter it. The spraying shards of wood flew out in all directions, making the patrons cower. People started running for the door, trying to get away from the mayhem. They shoved past Oliver, Ralph, and Esther, scrambling to get out.
But the three friends stood their ground.
Soon, only the ruffians remained. Clearly, they were going to see this through.
Suddenly, they ran at them, their fists raised for hand-to-hand combat. Oliver delivered the next blow. He cast his powers out, shoving the boys backward. They flew through the air and landed on a table, making it crack and fall apart beneath them. The glasses on top came crashing to the ground.
The boys landed in a heap, groaning. One of them had a large gash under his eye from the smashed glass.
“Let’s get out of here,” he stammered. “It’s not worth it.”
The main boy looked like he wanted to call him a coward. But when he looked up at Oliver, Esther, and Ralph in their poised positions, all three clearly completely unruffled by their attempts to intimidate them, he changed his mind.
The ruffians hurried out of the pub, their tails firmly between their legs.
Ralph let go of his powers, allowing the candle flames to return to normal.
Oliver looked around at the now destroyed room.
“Well,” Esther commented with a smirk. “That was one way of drying off.”