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From the rear of the bookstore you could see the backyards of the houses in Piminy Street and Cathedral Close, and the narrow alley between them. The alley was deserted at the moment; it would not be too difficult to creep across without being seen. Smoke was billowing from behind the roofs of Piminy Street, and Mrs. Kettle began to feel anxious for the blue boa. In her haste to find Dagbert and get him to safety, she had forgotten her precious snake.

"He can't stay there, poor love." Mrs. Kettle dressed hastily. She was about to leave the room when the door opened and Emma crept in.

"You gave me quite a fright, my dear," said Mrs. Kettle, patting her heart.

Emma explained that she had left something in one of her drawers, a vest that Alice Angel had made for Olivia. "She's been won over," Emma told Mrs.

Kettle.

"Someone gave her a vest that's made her one of THEM. She's changed completely, will hardly speak to me. And she absolutely won't be parted from the awful thing."

"So you want to swap them. The one that troubles her must be exchanged for one that brings her peace."

"It is a bit like that." Emma smiled. Mrs. Kettle had put it so well. Olivia was troubled. Even though she struggled to keep the bewitching vest with her, it appeared to be draining the life out of her. Emma went to her drawer and lifted out the vest that Alice Angel had made.

"It's beautiful." Mrs. Kettle touched the silver circles. "It's easy to see why Olivia would want to wear a thing like this."

"It's as light as a feather," said Emma, "and yet Olivia seems to sink under the other one, as though it's weighted with stones."

"Evil is heavy," Mrs. Kettle declared, "goodness a pleasure to wear."

Mrs. Kettle looked so strong and solid, any qualms that Emma might have had were instantly swept away, and she found herself describing how she would go to Olivia's house in the morning and change the vests while Olivia was dressing. "That's the only moment in the whole day when she'll take it off,"

said Emma.

"Good luck, my dear." Mrs. Kettle laid a hand on Emma's shoulder, and Emma could feel the strength of all those smith magicians who had gone before. It gave her a rush of courage.

"Thank you, Mrs. Kettle. Good night!"

"Good night to you, my dear. I'll be off now to get my lovely snake."

While Emma went back to bed, Mrs. Kettle slipped down the stairs. She tiptoed through the living room, where Dagbert Endless was moaning in his sleep, and into the kitchen. The back door opened into a small yard. Mrs. Kettle stepped out into the foggy air and closed the door behind her. Then she made a sudden dash across the alley to her own backyard.

On the way she had to pass behind the Stone Shop, and what she saw there made her blood run cold.

The yard was crammed with huge stone creatures, hideous things with tusks, broad noses, eyes hidden in wrinkled stone, and pointed teeth protruding from their lower jaws. What warped imagination had conjured up these dreadful beasts? she wondered. One turned its head, and Mrs. Kettle ran. Eric Shellhorn, she thought. He's bringing them to life.

When she reached her shop, Mrs. Kettle dared not turn a light on. The blue boa was curled beneath a table at the back. He had obviously tried to get as far away from the window as possible. Flames from the street fires bathed the shop in an angry orange glow, and the silhouettes of prancing figures passed constantly across the window.

"Come on, my love!" Mrs. Kettle reached down and coaxed the snake from his hiding place. He crawled up her arm and wrapped himself around her neck.

"We'd best be quick," she whispered.

As she stepped into the alley, two figures appeared in the Stone Shop yard: Melmott the stonemason and a burly figure in a white undershirt. Mrs. Kettle hoped they hadn't seen her, but Melmott heard the rattle of a pebble under her foot and looked her way.

"Ah! What have we here?" he said in his cold, rough voice.

"Oh, heavens," whispered Mrs. Kettle. "Solomon, do something!" She pulled the boa's tail, hoping he'd understand.

Solomon did. In two seconds he had slithered from Mrs. Kettle's head right down to her shoes, and both he and Mrs. Kettle vanished.

"What the heck!" Melmott exclaimed.

"Where did they go?" shouted the man in the undershirt.

Mrs. Kettle held her nerve. While the men turned their heads this way and that, she stealthily crept past them.

A cat jumped from a wall farther up the alley, and the men ran toward the sound, shouting, "Gotcha! You can't fool us!"

Mrs. Kettle hitched the invisible boa back onto her shoulders and ran for the bookstore. Bounding into the kitchen, she ran straight into Dagbert Endless, who was getting himself a drink of water. He was just about to scream, when an invisible hand was clamped over his mouth, and a familiar voice said,

"Shhh, my dear! It's only me, Mrs. Kettle. You can see for yourself in a moment."

Dagbert watched the space in front of him gradually fill up with the broad figure of Mrs. Kettle. Across her shoulders lay a huge blue snake with feathers on its head.

"This is Solomon," said Mrs. Kettle. "Isn't he a beauty?"

Dagbert nodded. He was too astonished to speak.

20. ON THE HEATH

During the night the fog crept right over the city in a smothering gray cloud. The merrymakers of Piminy Street slept where they had dropped on sidewalks littered with broken glass and drifting ash. The cathedral clock chimed seven across a city that waited, in fear, for the day that was to come.

In Ingledew's Bookstore, Dagbert had fallen into a deep sleep. The cathedral chimes never woke him, nor did Emma creeping past with the vest in a white plastic bag. Once she'd fortified herself with a glass of milk, she tucked the bag under her arm and left the house by the back door. Outside she stood for a moment in the yard. The smell of the fog and burning garbage hit the back of her throat; she put a hand over her nose and mouth. She would have to fly through that toxic air and she needed a moment to prepare herself.

Deciding at last on a jackdaw, she hastily changed her shape behind the yard wall, then picked up the bag in her beak. Olivia's house was on Dragon Street, only two blocks beyond Charlie's. If the Vertigos wouldn't let Alice into their house, Emma stood no chance, so she resolved on an alternative to the front door. Mrs. Vertigo had often complained about the mess that jackdaws made, dropping twigs down her chimney. Twice a jackdaw had been found flapping sootily around their living room.

As Emma winged her way above the rooftops, she could hear voices in the cloud of fog: hoarse whispers, distant laughter, and even the clink of weapons. She ducked her head and tilted down to Dragon Street.

Olivia's house stood back to back with Alice Angel's old home, and no one could fail to recognize the orchard that grew between them. White buds were already appearing on some of the plum trees.

Alighting on the Vertigos' chimney, Emma was surprised to find a jackdaw already in residence. Her eggs hadn't yet been laid, but a fine nest was already half built. She seemed more surprised than angry to see Emma perching at the edge of her home.

"Excuse me," Emma murmured and she dived through the tangle of twigs and straw before plummeting down the dusty chimney. She landed in the Vertigos'

living room fireplace with the plastic bag still held in her beak. The remains of last night's fire were warm but luckily not alight.

After a few moments of feather riffling, Emma stepped out of the fireplace, a girl once more. It wasn't until she began to tiptoe up the stairs that she

noticed her feet were leaving sooty marks on the carpet. Can't be helped, thought Emma. Perhaps they'll blame the jackdaws!

There was a large linen closet in the hall, and Emma quickly crawled in, pulling the door shut behind her. Now she would have to wait.