Pete sat across from Mattie. Weasel backed up against the wall and twirled his cowlick even faster than before. The women gathered extra chairs and took their seats.
“We’ve all read the bulletin that Dread sent. The rift in the Timelock is still very real.” Mattie pointed at Pete. “You can see what has happened. Peter and his friend are now here and without the proper procedure. I’m very worried about who might arrive or vanish next without being scheduled and without Guides.” She glanced around the table. “Have any more strange sorts appeared or are we missing anyone from the village today, anyone not scheduled to leave?”
Pete glanced over his shoulder at Weasel and mouthed, scheduled?
Weasel shrugged.
“Not since I did a count this morning,” Eugenia said. She clutched her shawl and pulled it snuggly around her neck. “Twillager the blacksmith has not been seen for a while, then there is Mina Stout who didn’t deliver her pies as usual this week. The last one to go missing was Henrietta Blunt, and that was the day before yesterday.”
“Well, that’s something good anyway,” Mattie said. “Now let’s get down to it. They must meet up with Dread.”
“He was last seen in London.”
“No, Briar’s Heath, I think.”
“London. I’m sure.”
“We must send a message to him.”
“No. They must find him.”
“It’s better if they’re not here.”
They talked over each other and so quickly that Pete finally sat lost in his thoughts and waited until a sudden silence jerked him back to paying attention.
“That’s it then. First, we must replace these odd garments.” Mattie pushed up out of her chair, snapped her fingers and pointed at Pete. His sweatshirt changed to a brown vest over a long-sleeved shirt. His favorite jeans vanished and in their place were baggy pants that only came to his knees. The rest of his legs were covered with gray stockings. His tennis shoes morphed into black lace up shoes.
Weasel clapped his hand over his mouth and rocked back and forth, laughing and jabbing his finger at Pete’s head.
Pete reached up and took off a small cap with a brim.
Weasel stopped laughing after Mattie pointed his direction and his clothes changed into those almost the same.
“Now, try to sound more like, well more … English, and you’ll be fine. Once you are in London—”
“Us? In London?” Pete said, suddenly understanding those bits and pieces of their conversation.
“You must find Dread. And you must find him quickly. The last news we had from him was from London. You can try Number 20 Piccadilly Circus. He moves around, you see. Many different places.”
Eugenia nodded. “For safety, he says.”
“Our village is not very popular,” Aurelia said. “Very sad, indeed.”
“So much superstitious frip-frap these days.” Constance sat shaking her head from side to side. “Not like the old days. No.”
“And since the Timelock”—Mattie frowned—“he’s had a lot to take care of.”
“A lot.” Eugenia nodded and drew her round face into a scowl.
“And you must be very careful once you’re in London. With the coronation, everyone is in a heightened state of excitement, and they’re alert to strangers who might be a danger during the ceremonies.” Mattie hurried across the room and opened the door. “Come. I’ll see you to the coach.”
“Coronation?” Pete looked to Weasel.
Weasel frowned. “1837.” Then his eyes went wide. “Queen Victoria!”
“Yes. We will soon have a new queen. A new era,” Mattie said. “Now let’s be on our way. It’s best we don’t all troop into the village together. People are already unsettled-nervous, and the Stranglewood Whisper Circle will be humming with even more gossip than it is already. We don’t need that.”
Pete knew how the Hadleyville Whisper Circle worked. It beat the Gazette in getting the latest news spread around their town. Some things never change, even after a lot of years.
They said goodbye to the three Glopp sisters and followed Mattie down the dark path to the main road in the village. The return trip was easier since she knew the way around all the roots and murky ponds.
“The mail coach arrives about noon. If we hurry, you may be just in time,” Mattie said. She glanced at the shops along the way, nodding and waving with her hand. It was as if she was calming the shadowy figures that came to the windows now and stared out at them. “Everyone’s on edge. This has been a nervous-scared few weeks what with all the strange comings and goings.”
“Because others besides us came from different times?” Weasel asked.
“Indeed. Only three days ago two strangers came that didn’t want to be here any more than we wanted them. They were a snarly couple, I can tell you. And you heard Eugenia. We lost three village folk in a week. They just up and vanished. Very irregular.” Mattie shook her head. As they came to the crossroads, the sun poked from behind the thick clouds and the unnatural darkness vanished.
Mattie shaded her eyes with her hands and looked off into the distance at a swirl of dust rising from the ground. “You are in time. The coach is just about here.” She handed each of them a small packet of bread and an apple for their journey. “And about buying tickets. What do you have in the way of currency?”
“Sorry. I’m broke,” Pete said.
“In that case, here.” Mattie handed Pete and Weasel each a single coin. “This will pay your way to London and, if you are frugal, it will purchase another simple meal.” She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Take care in London. It is not so easy as our countryside. And whatever you do, don’t spread it widely that you’re arrived from Stranglewood Wildes. Be cautious.”
“How come?” Pete asked.
Mattie didn’t look him in the eye when she answered. “Our village has enemies. There are many whispered stories. Not true, mind you. But if they know you’re connected with us, they’ll be your enemies, too. Stranglewood Wildes does not need more said about it at the moment. We’re in a delicate situation. Make careful inquires after the doctor. It’s best not to be noticed.” She started away, then came back and whispered in Pete’s ear, “Be sure to ask for him by his full name, Dr. Dread Wraith. He likes that. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t practice your spells here until you find him. You could cause no end of trouble if you do.”
Pete started to ask her what kind of trouble he’d cause, but she hurried away and the coach pulled up in a billow of dust.
Pete and Weasel climbed inside and took the seat across from two passengers. A round woman in ruffles smiled at them from under a hat piled high with ribbons. On the seat next to her was a large square basket. On the other side of that basket sat a man who glared at them from under the brim of his hat, a hat that was tall and stiff and rose straight up on his head like a black stovepipe.
An Abe Lincoln hat, Pete thought.
“Good day to you,” the woman said. “Mrs. Greenly, I am. Head Housekeeper to Lord Kingsley. This is Mr. Greenly, Coachman to his lordship.”
“Good … day,” Pete said. If he could copy how people talked here that might help.
“We’ve been on holiday to visit our son,” Mrs. Greenly said. “It was lovely.”
“What is your business in London?” Mr. Greenly sounded like Sheriff Elmer back home when he knew Pete had done something and wanted to get a quick confession.
“We’re looking for Dr. Dread Wraith,” Pete said, thinking he might as well try the name out before they got to London.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Greenly’s upper lip twitched and his glare turned harder than before.
Weasel said, “We have some business with him.”
Mrs. Greenly smiled even more. “How lovely. Young lads on business to London. Isn’t that lovely, Mr. Greenly?”
Mr. Greenly looked out the window and didn’t answer.
They rocked and bumped along in silence for a while, then Mrs. Greenly opened the basket and took out a package. She set it on her lap and unwrapped a small pie, cut into several slices.
She handed her husband one slice and held the pie out to Pete and Weasel. “My special lamb kidney pie, lads.”
Lamb kidney pie had never crossed Pete’s lips. He wasn’t sure he wanted it to either. He darted a look at Weasel and waited for him to make the first move.
Very carefully, Weasel slipped a piece of the pie from the wrapping. “Thank you.”
Pete followed Weasel’s lead and nodded at Mrs. Greenly who smiled even more broadly and waited for them to taste her pie. There was no way out, so Pete nibbled at the crust.
Weasel didn’t nibble. He took the other way to get the pie down. He gobbled it in two big bites. Barely chewing, he swallowed. One. Two. Gone.
Holding his breath, Pete did the same. It wasn’t pepperoni pizza, but he had to admit it wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Besides, it filled the gap in his stomach that tea and toast did not. “Very good,” he managed to say. He almost meant it.
“Have you been to London before?” Mrs. Greenly asked, finishing off her second slice of lamb kidney pie.
Pete and Weasel shook their heads no.
“Oh dear, what a lovely adventure for you. You do have family meeting you, I’m sure.” Mrs. Greenly dipped into her basket and brought out another package.
Pete and Weasel nodded together as if their heads were connected by an invisible wire.
“Lovely,” Mrs. Greenly said. “Isn’t that lovely, Mr. Greenly?”
“This Dr. Dread Wraith sounds to be of questionable character,” Mr. Greenly said without turning away from the window. “I’d suggest you reconsider contacting him.”
Pete and Weasel faced each other, then together said, “You know him?”
“No, but his name is unnatural.”
Weasel nudged Pete. “Told you.”
Now Mr. Greenly looked at them. “Best stay away from the man. Take my advice.”
“Thanks,” Weasel said. “But he has something we need so we can go home.”
Mr. Greenly didn’t seem to be listening, so Weasel tried again. “If we don’t find him, we might be stuck in London. He’s supposed to be at Piccadilly Circus.”
“That is north of the coach stop only five minutes. Just remember you’ve been warned.”
Mrs. Greenly held out two ripe peaches. Weasel and Pete didn’t think twice. They snatched the peaches, said thanks and chomped down, letting the juice dribble down their chins.
“Lovely,” she said. “Isn’t that lovely, Mr. Greenly?”
Mr. Greenly didn’t answer.