Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret (16 page)

“This is the highest floor,” Derick said. “I think the tower comes off somewhere around here.”

Abby thought they needed to move a bit farther down the hall, but she wasn’t sure.

Carol grabbed the shoulder of a boy walking by. “Excuse me,” she said, and looked at the tall boy with short, black hair and dark brown eyes. “You look like you’re older than me. Not a
lot
older, but at least a little. I mean, if you wanted to hang out with me sometime, I think I’d be okay with that—just thought I’d clarify. Unless you’re just a good-looking shell with a shallow, unfeeling core. Then never mind. But the reason I stopped you is that I need to ask a question of someone who has been at Cragbridge longer than I have.”

After taking a moment to process what Carol said, the boy responded, “Okay.”

“‘Okay’ as in you want to hang out with me, or ‘okay,’ you’ll answer my question?”

“The question,” the boy said.

“How can I go up to the top of the Watchman?”

The boy laughed. “You must be a seventh grader. You can’t. You can go down this hall, and up the spiral stairs, but it ends. You can’t go all the way up. Rumor is that kids used to ditch class up there, and one even fell from the tower, so they closed it off.”

“Okay, thanks,” Carol said. “And you were right. I am a seventh grader. I just don’t know these things. Maybe I need a friend. Maybe a friend with short, black hair, a cute face, a decent build, maybe he’s wearing a green T-shirt.” She eyed the boy carefully. “Someone like that to help me find my way in this strange new world.”

“Uh ... you’re strange,” the boy said.

“That’s not really very nice. I mean, you’re probably strange too, but I don’t go around saying it to your face.” The boy smirked and continued down the hall. Carol called after him. “But if you ever want to hang out and be strange together, like over dinner or something, let me know. My name is Carol Reese. Look me up.”

The boy didn’t turn around.

“Thanks for finding out the info,” Derick said. “And thanks for hitting on him. It’s good to see someone else completely uncomfortable.”

“Sure,” Carol said. “But I wasn’t hitting on him. I just wanted to make you feel jealous.” She raised both her eyebrows and grinned.

“Can’t you two stop to think how awkward this must be for me?” Abby asked.

“I don’t stop to think about
awkward
much,” Carol admitted. “I’m too excited.”

Abby returned to the subject at hand. “That boy said we can’t go inside the Watchman, but we might as well try.”

Derick led the girls down the hall and up the stairs. Abby followed behind Derick, figuring that if she didn’t, Carol would take advantage of the stairs and watch his backside for much of the way.

After a few more minutes, Abby rounded a bend to see Derick with his head touching a rock ceiling.

“Looks like this is as far as we go,” he said.

Abby looked at the ceiling. “Maybe you used to be able to get to the top back when Grandpa made the message.”

“I doubt it,” Derick said. “By the feel of this whole thing, nothing about discovering the secret is going to be easy.” He pressed his hands against the bricks.

“Are you looking for a secret passage?” Abby asked.

“I guess,” he said.

Carol giggled. “That’s so cute.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Derick asked.

“I guess it’s worth a try,” Abby said. Over the next few minutes, they pushed and pulled on every brick in the ceiling and the walls surrounding it. They tried the tiles on the steps. They even tried all standing on one stair at a time, and in different combinations, hoping something would open a way up to the Watchman. Finally, they came back down the stairs.

They walked out of the front doors and onto the grass outside, then looked up at Watchman, standing tall and picturesque at the very heart of the academy.

“Maybe we can get there from the outside,” Abby suggested.

“We’d need a really, really tall ladder,” Carol said.

Derick snorted. “I’m sure three kids holding a five-story ladder wouldn’t look conspicuous at all,” he said sarcastically. “Everyone would let us do our thing without asking any questions, especially the guards.”

Abby had to agree. “Besides, does anyone know where we can get a five-story ladder?”

“Have Carol ask the next boy who passes,” Derick said.

“Oh, it worked,” Carol said. “You’re
jealous
.”

Derick rolled his eyes.

“Even if we could get up there,” Abby said, pointing to the tower, “we couldn’t get through those windows. They can’t be more than five inches across.”

“If we somehow got up that high, maybe we could reach in and grab what we needed,” Carol suggested. “Hey, maybe we could climb up there.”

Abby approached the wall and tried to gain a foothold. She managed to get about eight inches off the ground before falling. “There’s no way. Maybe a monkey could do it, but none of us could.”

Derick gasped. Both Carol and Abby turned to look at him. He smiled. “Thanks, sis. I think I know how we can get in. Meet me at the east side of the biology hall before lunch.”

18

A Limp and a Jagged Wound

Hello again, Oscar,” Charles said, walking across the stage-type podium.

Oscar didn’t respond. He didn’t even sit up in his bed, which guards watched carefully. He glared at Charles.

“Oh, a bit uncivil today huh?” Charles asked.

“Excuse me,” Oscar said. “I don’t believe I’m the one threatening innocent lives or holding an old man captive against his will.” Oscar rolled over, facing away from Charles.

Charles walked slowly toward the bed. “Of course, it’s understandable that you are upset. Indeed, a lot is on the line, but I had to put you in this position to make you realize how much we could do together if you would just share your secret.”

Oscar didn’t respond.

Charles motioned toward the scene portrayed by a Bridge across the lecture hall. The ghost of a giant ship cut its way through the ocean. “And you aren’t even watching what I’ve provided for you. It may help you come to a quicker decision. You could end this at any moment.”

“You are heartless,” Oscar said, a bite in his voice. The guard who stood next to him poised himself to restrain the old man if necessary.

“No,” said Charles. “I’m a visionary. There is a difference, though it may be slight.”

Oscar slowly turned and sat up. “Oh, do tell Charles. When has pride or vainglory become ‘visionary’?”

“You are trying to upset me,” Charles said, his tone even.

“No, I’m trying to help you see who you really are. You are threatening murder. Do you see the animal you have become?”

“And you are threatening to let tragedies remain when you have the power to reverse them.”

“You have not learned from the past. You cannot buy or bully your way to greatness.”

“We can change the world,” Charles said.

“You should worry about changing yourself,” Oscar said back, pointing his finger. “I would worry about
that
tragedy before any others.”

Charles stood silently, lips tightened. After several moments, he said, “You know you only have two more days. You are the one who decides if they live or die. The responsibility is yours. And if you let them die, perhaps it is you who should reexamine himself.”

• • •

Mr. Hendricks’s eyes drooped, and he blinked slower than normal. “Go ahead, Andrew.” He nodded at the boy with his hand raised.

The boy in the back row had red hair and freckles. “Did you read the news this morning?”

“I did.” Mr. Hendricks took a few tired steps, much slower than the day before, and sat upon his desk with a wince.

“And what’s your opinion about it?” Andrew asked.

“Overall, I never think the news is adequate, but it does serve a purpose.”

“No, I mean, I watched the vid that said Oscar Cragbridge is missing,” Andrew said. “They haven’t ruled out foul play.”

All the feelings Abby had been trying to suppress, to forget for a few moments, came rushing back. She could feel the stares of the class, but she didn’t want to look back. She did
not
want to break down.

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Mr. Hendricks said. “But this will be the only question about the situation today. As you can probably tell, I have had a rather long night. I’m not feeling one hundred percent well today.” He gave them a tired smile. “Also, I need to announce that I will not be in my office during lab hours today. If there is any reason you need to meet with me, please see me afterward. We can try to schedule a time. However, with the way I feel, please see if it can’t wait a day or two.” He didn’t pace in front of the room as usual.

“Now as far as your question goes,” Mr. Hendricks said, giving a subtle nod to Andrew, “I suspected someone may bring that up.” He cleared his throat. “It’s terrible news. Of course, Oscar Cragbridge is very much the reason this school exists. He founded it. Paid to build it. I’ve even heard that he designed this building we meet in. He was a pioneer in science, history, and other areas. I cannot see why anyone would bear him ill will—he is a remarkable, visionary man.” He stood and took a few steps, but then stopped. “I know Oscar reasonably well. He is likely to get an idea and go after it with speed and zeal. I hope he’s simply gone doing some research somewhere.”

“I don’t think so,” Derick interjected. “My parents are gone too, and we can’t get a hold of them.”

“Yes,” Mr. Hendricks said, and bowed his head, genuine sadness on his face. “I’m still hoping for the best regarding your parents. I worked with Oscar Cragbridge, testing some of the early Bridge prototypes to be used in history classes. We used to spend quite a lot of time together.”

“Really?” Abby asked.

“Yes, we did,” Mr. Hendricks said.

“Wait. Did you finish testing those early prototypes?” Derick asked.

“I wanted to,” Mr. Hendricks started, “but something ...” He paused and took a deep breath. “Something happened. Something in my personal life, but that is neither here nor there. All I would like to say about Andrew’s question is that I am optimistic that they’ll find all of the missing Cragbridges soon, healthy and happy. Now,” he said in a commanding, we’re-not-going-back-to-that-subject tone, “for today’s lesson, I’m going to ask you all to study the beginning of the Revolutionary War. Your Bridge labs are already prepared. If you sync to my class page, you’ll find a series of questions to answer.”

Abby didn’t move. She waited for most people to file into the Bridges and then made her way to Mr. Hendricks at his desk.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hendricks,” she said. “I have a question.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your family,” Mr. Hendricks said. “Your grandfather is truly a great man, and I expect your parents are no less. I hope everything is well.”

“Thank ... you,” Abby said, choking back her emotions. She wanted to ask if he knew about the lockets, or about the secret and the possibility of a kidnapping. It would be so nice to ask someone older and more experienced for help—someone who knew Grandpa personally. Though she opened her mouth to speak, she decided against it. She would respect her grandpa’s wishes.

“Now what was your question?” Mr. Hendricks asked.

“For some reason, my Bridge access has been blocked,” Abby said, changing the subject. “Could you tell me why?”

“Hmmm,” Mr. Hendricks said. “That’s very unusual so early in the school year.” He turned on his rings and began moving his fingers. “What have you been trying to see?”

Abby swallowed. She didn’t want to tell him, but then again, for all she knew, he was looking at the information as she spoke. “My grandpa gave me access to some of his journals.”

“And after you watched some of them, your access was denied,” Mr. Hendricks suggested.

“Yeah,” Abby said.

Mr. Hendricks moved his fingers again. “I see the block. You had rights to whatever you were watching, I must assume, or else you wouldn’t be on a private file. But someone thought you shouldn’t. I cannot overrule the block, as it comes from another teacher. You can imagine the trouble that would cause if one teacher kept overruling another. I can submit a request to have your access restored after a probationary period. In two days, if all goes well, you should be able to log on again.”

“Thanks,” Abby said, but her stomach tightened. Two days was too long. Who knew what could happen to her parents and grandpa in two days? She had to find out more. Derick still had access, but she may need her own. She’d need the Bridge. “I don’t want to be ungrateful, but is there any way I can get access sooner? I mean, I have homework to do.” Homework was really the last thing on her mind.

Mr. Hendricks shook his head. “Not really. Like I said on the first day, the Bridge is a privilege that can be revoked. I’m not in a position to overrule that.”

“Could you tell me who blocked me?” Abby asked. “Maybe I could explain what happened.”

“Sorry,” Mr. Hendricks said. “Revealing that information is against school policy. For today, I will give you the assignment from a textbook.” He turned on his rings and flicked his fingers. Abby turned her rings on as well and found a message with a textbook chapter attached. Opening it felt like failure, like she had left behind all the wonderful inventions of Cragbridge Hall and returned to regular school.

Abby went back to her desk and began to read, but she couldn’t focus. Before the end of the period, someone would see her sitting in her desk reading on her rings because she couldn’t use the Bridge—yet another reason she wasn’t as good as everyone else. Even more upsetting was the question of who had blocked her access. Abby thought about Ms. Entrese and her fascination with Grandpa’s locket. She seemed to be the leading suspect.

Abby hadn’t even looked up the first question on the homework sheet when Mr. Hendricks walked to her side.

“My wife died,” he said. “That was the reason I quit working with your grandfather. I ... I ... gave up my work for months—actually, for over a year if I’m honest.”

Abby had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry.”