The Hush

Nobody slept that night.

Nobody could. All over Blackwood, in every corridor and every dormitory, people sat up in the dark with every lamplamp/ ˈlamp / nounlampA device that produces light, often using electricity.The old lamp flickered as the power surged. switched on, staring at the walls. The black words had stopped growing at about two in the morning. But they did not go away. They stayed exactly where they were, glistening faintly, as if they were wet, as if they were waiting.

Nobody could make a sound, not even a squealsqueal/ ˈskwēl / verbsquealTo make a high-pitched cry or noise.The children began to squeal with excitement when they saw the roller coaster.. The silence was the worst thing of all.

Lainey had always thought of silence as something empty. A gap. An absence of noise. But the silence in Blackwood that night was not empty. It was full. It was thick and heavy and pressing, like deep water, and it was full of people trying to make a sound and failing. You could see them doing it. You could see a girl in Year Nine opening her mouth to cry, and her face crumpling, and nothing coming out. You could see a teacher clapping his hands for attention, and the hands meeting, and no clap. A boy tried to reportreport/ ri-ˈpȯrt / nounreportA statement or account that conveys information or news.The town was buzzing with a report about the upcoming festival. what had happened to a teacher, waving his arms in a wild, incoherentincoherent/ ˌin-kō-ˈhir-ənt / adjectiveincoherentNot able to be understood; lacking clarity or organization.His thoughts were so incoherent that no one could follow his argument. dance that made no sense at all. Even the clock in the entrance hall had stopped ticking. Its pendulum still swung, back and forth, back and forth, as steady as a metronomemetronome/ ˈme-trə-ˌnōm / nounmetronomeA device that produces regular, audible ticks to indicate time intervals.The musician relied on a metronome to keep perfect time during the performance.. But it made no sound at all.

The only sounds in the whole school came from four people.

Lainey. Alicia. Priya. And Old Tobias, who had come up from the cove behind them, dripping, and was now standing at the foot of the great staircase with his cap in his hands, looking up at the word LAINEY on the wall above him with a face like thunder.

He was not a garrulousgarrulous/ ˈger-ə-ləs / adjectivegarrulousExcessively talkative, especially on trivial matters.She was known for her garrulous stories that could keep anyone entertained for hours. man. He hardly ever said more than ten words at once. "Well," he said at last. His voice sounded enormous. It boomed and rolled around the stone hall, reverberantreverberant/ ri-ˈvər-b(ə-)rənt / adjectivereverberantHaving a quality of echoing or resonating sound.The singer's reverberant voice resonated throughout the concert hall. as a voice in a church, and fifty heads turned towards it at once. "That's torn it."

It was Dr Ashcombe who took charge.

He did it insteadinstead/ in-ˈsted / adverbinsteadAs a substitute or alternative for something.I chose to stay home and read a book instead of going out. of panicking, and he did it without a single word, which Lainey thought afterwards was the bravest thing she had ever seen a grown-up do. He was a man who had spent his whole life talking. He was the great rumbling bear of Blackwood, famous for speeches that went on for forty minutes. And now he could not say a thing.

So he climbed onto a chair in the middle of the entrance hall, and held up both hands until every eye in the hall was on him. And then he pointed. He pointed at the teachers, and then at the stairs, and then made a sweeping, gathering movement with his arms, like a farmer gathering sheep. Then he pointed at the Great Hall.

Everyone. In there. Now.

It worked. Within ten minutes, the whole populacepopulace/ ˈpä-pyə-ləs / nounpopulaceThe people living in a particular country or area.The populace gathered in the town square to voice their concerns. of Blackwood Academy was crammed into the Great Hall: three hundred students, forty teachers, Sister Olga, Chef Rocco and all the kitchen staff, the cleaners, the gardeners, Mr Al Mansoori and his two auditors, and Old Tobias. The candles from the Gala had burned down to stubs. The paper lanterns hung crooked. There were not enough chairs, so every standeestandee/ ˌstan-ˈdē / nounstandeeA person who is standing, especially in a crowded place.The crowded bus had several standee who had no choice but to stand. squeezed in along the walls, shoulder to shoulder, and the little ones sat cross-legged on the floor.

It was the strangest assembly Lainey had ever been to. Three hundred and fifty people, some in pyjamas and some in Gala clothes, one boy in a bright West African dashikidashiki/ də-ˈshē-kē / noundashikiA loose-fitting pullover garment, often brightly colored, worn in West African cultures.He wore a colorful dashiki to the cultural celebration. and another in dungareesdungarees/ ˌdəŋ-gə-ˈrē / plural noundungareesA type of sturdy trousers made from denim or a similar fabric.The workers wore dungarees while painting the house. splashed with paint, and not a sound.

No. That was not quite true. There was a sound. There was the soft rustlingrustling/ ˈrə-səl / nounrustlingA soft swishing or crackling sound.The rustling of leaves signaled the arrival of the gentle breeze. of clothes, the scrape of shoes on the wooden floor, the creak of a chair. The Hush took voices, Lainey realised. It did not take everything. A dropped spoon still rang. A door still banged. Only the sounds that came out of a human throat had gone.

Dr Ashcombe stood on the little stage, where only a few hours ago Lainey had read Nani's poem. Beside him was the big blackboard on wheels that the maths department used for exams. He picked up a stick of chalk, and in large, firm letters he wrote:

STAY CALM.

NOBODY IS HURT.

WE WILL FIND OUT WHAT HAS HAPPENED.

Then he looked out over the hall, found Lainey in the crowd, and, very slowly, beckoned her up onto the stage.

Lainey had never felt so many eyes on her in her life.

She stood beside the blackboard with Alicia on one side of her and Priya on the other, and looked out at the sea of silent faces. Some were frightened. Some were apprehensiveapprehensive/ ˌap-rə-ˈhen-siv / adjectiveapprehensiveAnxious or fearful about what may happen.He felt apprehensive about the upcoming exam, fearing he might not pass., glancing at the doors. Some were distraughtdistraught/ di-ˈstrȯt / adjectivedistraughtDeeply agitated or upset, often due to emotional distress.The distraught crowd gathered at the memorial service., crying without a sound, their shoulders shaking. Some were downcastdowncast/ ˈdau̇n-ˌkast / adjectivedowncastSad and discouraged, with eyes looking down.The downcast of the players was evident after their disappointing loss., staring at the floor. And some, she saw with a cold little shock, were angry. They were looking at her the way you look at someone who has broken something precious.

Her name is on the wall, those faces said. Whatever this is, it's because of her.

Dr Ashcombe wrote on the blackboard: YOU THREE CAN SPEAK?

"Yes," said Lainey. Her voice sounded tiny and loud at the same time. "Me and Alicia and Priya. And Mr Tobias."

He wrote: WHY?

Lainey hesitated. She looked at Mr Al Mansoori, standing at the end of the front row. He gave her the very smallest nod.

So she told them.

She told them everything. About the whispers. About the words on the walls, and the three nights, and the black book. About Miss Corvin, who was not thirty-one years old but more than seven hundred. About the famine, and Sabine's little sister, and the bargain in the caves. About the boat, and the sea gate, and the Room of Small Bottles. It took a long time. Her voice was the only voice in that enormous room, and it rang out into the silence like a bell, and nobody moved.

When she had finished, there was a long, long pause.

Then a tall girl at the back, one of the Year Eleven prefects, pushed her way to the front of the hall. She had a pen and a programme from the Gala, and she wrote on it, fast and furious, and held it up.

The writing was scribblyscribbly/ ˈskrib-lē / adjectivescribblyCharacterized by hasty or careless writing or drawing.The child presented a scribbly note filled with colorful doodles. and slanting and hard to read, but Lainey could make it out.

THIS IS NUTS. YOU EXPECT US TO BELIEVE A FAIRY STORY?

Lainey looked at her. Then she looked at the walls of the Great Hall, where the black words hung from every surface like bats.

"Do you have a better notionnotion/ ˈnō-shən / nounnotionA general idea or understanding of something.I had the notion that the movie would be entertaining, but it turned out to be dull.?" she said. "Or do you think the words just grew there by themselves, like graffitigraffiti/ grə-ˈfē-(ˌ)tē / noungraffitiInscriptions or drawings made on surfaces in public places, often without permission.The walls were adorned with vibrant graffiti that expressed the community's spirit.?"

The girl opened her mouth to argue. Nothing came out. She shut it again, and her countenancecountenance/ ˈkau̇n-tə-nəns / nouncountenanceThe appearance or expression of someone's face.The artist captured the essence of her subject's countenance in the painting. went slowly red, and after a moment she stepped back into the crowd.

At six in the morning, the sun came up.

Lainey had been hoping, without quite admitting it, that daylight would change things. That the black words would melt away in the sun, the way the third word had melted off the dormitory wall. That everyone would wake up and yawn and find that their voices had come back in the night, like a cat that had gone wandering.

It did not happen.

Insteadinstead/ in-ˈsted / adverbinsteadAs a substitute or alternative for something.I chose to stay home and read a book instead of going out., the fog came. It came in from every part of the worldworld/ ˈwərld / nounworldThe planet on which humans and other living beings exist, including all its features and inhabitants.Traveling around the world can broaden your perspective. at once, it seemed.

Lainey saw it first from the window of the Great Hall. At first she thought it was a miragemirage/ mə-ˈräzh / nounmirageAn optical illusion caused by atmospheric conditions, often appearing as a pool of water or a mirror reflecting distant objects.The heat of the pavement created a mirage that made the road appear wavy., a trick of the early light on the water, the way a hot road seems to shimmer. Then she realised it was real. A wall of white mist was rolling in across the sea from every direction at once. It came silently and steadily, swallowing the waves, swallowing the rocks, swallowing the distant line of the mainland, until the whole island was wrapped in it. It was not ordinary fog. Ordinary fog drifts and thins and swirls. This fog stood in a ring around the island, about half a mile out, perfectly verticalvertical/ ˈvər-ti-kəl / nounverticalA direction or position that is perpendicular to the horizon.The artist painted a mural that reached high into the vertical sky., like the white wall of a giant cup, and it did not move at all. It just stood there, frostyfrosty/ ˈfrȯ-stē / adjectivefrostyCharacterized by the presence of frost or ice crystals.The frosty morning air made the grass sparkle with ice crystals. and white and still, while the sun shone down on Blackwood from a clear blue sky aboveabove/ ə-ˈbəv / adverbaboveIn a higher position than something else; overhead.The clouds floated above, casting shadows on the ground. it. The water inside the ring was gleaminggleaming/ ˈglēmiŋ / adjectivegleamingShining brightly or reflecting light.The polished car had a gleaming finish that caught everyone's attention. and calm. Outside it, everything was white.

"Oh, no," said Old Tobias, very quietly, beside her. "Oh, no, no, no."

He tried anyway.

At eight o'clock, Lainey and Alicia stood on the end of the harbour wall and watched him take the school's motor launch out into the bay. It was a sturdy little boat of metalmetal/ ˈme-təl / nounmetalA solid material that is typically shiny, malleable, and a good conductor of heat and electricity.The artist used a piece of metal to create a stunning sculpture. and wood, painted white and blue, with a big steelsteel/ ˈstēl / nounsteelA strong, hard metal made from iron and carbon, used in construction and manufacturing.The construction workers used steel to build the sturdy framework. engine at the back and a radio in the cabin. Old Tobias checked the fuelfuel/ ˈfyü-əl / nounfuelA substance that is burned to provide energy or heat.The factory required a large amount of fuel to keep the machines running., then opened the throttlethrottle/ ˈthrät-əl / verbthrottleTo reduce the flow of a fluid or energy.He had to throttle the engine to prevent it from overheating., and the engine coughed and roared, its pistonspistons/ ˈpis-tənz / plural nounpistonsA cylindrical component that moves within a cylinder to create pressure or displacement.The engine's pistons are essential for its efficient operation. thumping, its propulsionpropulsion/ prə-ˈpəl-shən / nounpropulsionThe act of driving or pushing forward.The rocket's propulsion system was designed for maximum efficiency. shoving the boat forward and the launch went bouncing away across the water towards the wall of fog, leaving a long white tail of foam behind it.

"He'll get through," said Alicia. "He told me once he'd driven water buses in Venice. A vaporettovaporetto/ ˌvä-pə-ˈre-(ˌ)tō / nounvaporettoA type of boat used for public transportation on the canals of Venice.The tourists boarded the vaporetto to explore the beautiful canals of Venice., he called it. If he can get through Venice, he can get through anything." "He's Old Tobias. He can get through anything."

The launch reached the fog. It went in.

And thirty seconds later, it came out again.

Not in the right place. Not on the far side. It came out of the fog exactly where it had gone in, but facing the other way, heading straight back towards the island, as if the fog had simply picked it up and turned it round, the way you might turn a toy boat in a bath.

Old Tobias tried four times. Four times the launch went in, and four times it came out again facing home. On the last try, he stood in the stern and shook his fist at the fog and shouted something that Lainey was glad she could not hear across the water.

When he finally brought the boat back to the harbour, his face was grey.

"It's no good," he said, climbing up the ladder. "You go in, and it's like... it's like being inside a cloud of cotton wool. No sound. Not the engine, not the sea, nothing. You can't see your own hand. And the compass..." He held it up. It was a little brass ship's gyrogyro/ ˈjī-(ˌ)rō / noungyroA device that indicates direction relative to the Earth's magnetic poles.The pilot relied on the gyro to navigate through the stormy weather. compass, the kind that is supposed to point north no matter how the boat twists and turns. The needle was spinning. Round and round and round, without stopping, like a top. "That's never done that. Not in forty years." He looked out at the fog. "And the stars I steer by, the ones that tell me my longitudelongitude/ ˈlän-jə-ˌtüd / nounlongitudeThe angular distance of a point on the earth's surface east or west of the prime meridian.The map clearly indicated the lines of longitude across the globe., how far east or west I am, you can't see them. You can't see anything. And the radio's dead. Not broken. Dead. I could hear it humming. I could see the lights. But when I pressed the button and spoke into it, there was nothing. Not even staticstatic/ ˈsta-tik / adjectivestaticNot moving or not intended to be moved; fixed in place.The car remained static as it sat in the driveway.. Just silence."

"It's the Hush," said Lainey. "It's put a wall round the island."

"Like a moat round a castle," said Alicia. "To keep everyone out."

"No," said Lainey slowly. "Not to keep everyone out. To keep us in."

No planes flew over all that day. Usually there were two or three, high up, on their way across the Atlantic; Hana knew all about aeronauticsaeronautics/ ˌer-ə-ˈnȯ-tiks / nounaeronauticsA science dealing with the operation of aircraft.Pursuing a degree in aeronautics can lead to a career in aviation. and could name every one by its shape; her uncle flew planes for a skydivingskydiving/ ˈskī-ˌdī-viŋ / nounskydivingThe act of jumping from an aircraft and descending by parachute.They enjoyed the thrill of skydiving as they jumped from the plane. club in Hokkaido. Now there was nothing. The sky above the fog was as empty as a sky in a cartooncartoon/ kär-ˈtün / nouncartoonA drawing or series of drawings that tell a story or convey a message, often in a humorous way.The artist created a colorful cartoon to illustrate the story..

The phones did not work either.

Lainey found that out at breakfast, which was the most hectichectic/ ˈhek-tik / adjectivehecticCharacterized by intense activity or confusion.The doctor diagnosed her with a hectic fever that left her feeling exhausted., miserable breakfast in the history of Blackwood. Chef Rocco had made porridge, because porridge was what you made in a crisiscrisis/ ˈkrī-səs / nouncrisisThe turning point for better or worse in an acute disease or fever.The community faced a serious crisis when the factory closed down., he said, writing it on a napkin. But nobody wanted to eat. Students were crowded round the few phones that the school allowed, the big old-fashioned ones in the corridor and the teachers' mobiles, and every one of them was trying to call home.

The calls went through. That was the cruel part. You could dial a number, and hear nothing, and then see the little screen say CONNECTED. Somewhere on the other end, a mother or a father was picking up and saying hello? hello? But no sound went down the line. Not a single word. After a while, the person on the other end gave up and hung up, and the screen said CALL ENDED.

Hana tried her laptop first. It was a betabeta/ ˈbā-tə / nounbetaA version of a product that is still in development and not yet ready for general release.I was excited to test the new beta version of the app. version of some clever new program her brother had built, and her avataravatar/ ˈa-və-ˌtär / nounavatarA digital representation of a user in a virtual environment.She customized her avatar to reflect her personality in the online game., a little smiling cat, popped up on the screen as usual. But the internet was gone. Then she tried to send a messagemessage/ ˈme-sij / nounmessageA written or spoken communication.I sent a message to my colleague to confirm the meeting time. insteadinstead/ in-ˈsted / adverbinsteadAs a substitute or alternative for something.I chose to stay home and read a book instead of going out.. She typed it on Mrs Hartwell's mobile, very carefully: Mum, something has happened at school, we are all safe but we can't talk, please call the police. She pressed SEND, and the little bar went across the top of the screen, and the message flew away.

Then Hana's face changed. She held the phone up so that Lainey could see.

The message had arrived. It sat there in its little blue bubble at the bottom of the screen. But all the letters had gone. Every single one. There was nothing left in the bubble but the spaces between the words, and a single full stop at the end, like a tiny black eye.

Dr Ashcombe tried email, on the big computer in his study. The emails went. They arrived empty. Mr Al Mansoori tried sending a photophoto/ ˈfō-tō / nounphotoAn image or representation of someone or something, typically produced by a camera.I captured a beautiful photo of my family at the beach., a picture of the black words on the wall. The picture arrived, Hana said, writing it down, but it was completely white. Not a single dot of datadata/ ˈdā-tə / noundataFactual information used as a basis for reasoning or calculation.The scientist presented the data to support her research findings. left in it.

"It's eating the words," whispered Priya, in her small, soft, Scottish voice. "Before they can leave the island. It's eating them on the way out."

Alicia pulled a face, the most indignantindignant/ nˈdignənt ə̇ / adjectiveindignantFeeling or showing anger because of something unjust or unworthy.He felt indignant after being unfairly criticized by his peers. face Lainey had ever seen, a big disgusted grimacegrimace/ ˈgrim-əs / noungrimaceA facial expression that shows disapproval, disgust, or pain.She made a grimace when she tasted the sour lemon., as if someone had offered her a plate of cold sprouts. "That is so horrid. Words are not food."

"They are to the Hush," said Lainey.

By the middle of the morning, Blackwood was falling apart.

It was not quite a disasterdisaster/ di-ˈza-stər / noundisasterA sudden event that causes great damage or loss.The earthquake was a major disaster that affected thousands of lives.. It was not that anybody did anything bad. It was that nobody could do anything at all. Lessons were impossible. The whole curriculumcurriculum/ kə-ˈri-kyə-ləm / nouncurriculumThe courses offered by an educational institution.The high school curriculum includes a variety of subjects for students. had stopped dead. You cannot teach a class of thirty children when nobody can ask a question or give an answer. Teachers tried writing on the board, but students could only write back, and it took for ever, and the writing was all jumbledjumbled/ ˈjəm-bəld / adjectivejumbledCharacterized by a lack of order or arrangement.The instructions were so jumbled that no one could follow them correctly. and haphazardhaphazard/ ˌhap-ˈhaz-ərd / adjectivehaphazardCharacterized by a lack of order or planning; random.The project was a haphazard attempt to solve the complex problem., with people writing over each other's notes and crossing things out. The little ones in Year Seven kept crying, silently, and nobody could comfort them properly, because how do you say it's all right without a voice?

Some of the older teenagersteenagers/ ˈtēn-ˌā-jər / plural nounteenagersA person in the developmental stage between childhood and adulthood, typically aged 13 to 19.Many teenagers enjoy exploring new music and trends. gave up altogether. A gang of Year Ten boys broke into the sports cupboard and started playing football in the corridor, kicking the ball against the walls as hard as they could, because the thud of the ball was at least a sound. A Year Eight girl scribbled rude words on the bathroom mirror in toothpaste. Someone let the school hamster out of its cage. It was not quite anarchyanarchy/ ˈa-nər-kē / nounanarchyA state of society without government or law.The country fell into anarchy after the government was overthrown.. But it was close. A wild frenzyfrenzy/ ˈfren-zē / nounfrenzyA state of intense emotional agitation or excitement.The crowd erupted into a frenzy when the concert tickets went on sale. of noise-making swept the school: banging doors, stamping feet, kicking balls. Anything that made a sound.

And underneath it all, growing, like smoke under a door, was fear.

Lainey felt it every time she walked down a corridor. People stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Some of them looked at her the way you look at a lifeboat. Some of them looked at her the way you look at a fire. Twice, she found notes pushed under the door of Dormitory Seven. The first one said, in neat round writing: Thank you for trying. Good luck. From Year 7. The second one was scrawledscrawled/ ˈskrȯld / verbscrawledTo write or draw carelessly or hurriedly.He scrawled a quick note on the back of the envelope. in thick black marker, all capitals, pressed so hard into the paper that the pen had torn through it in places:

THIS IS YOUR FAULT. FIX IT.

Somebody had drawn a little skull underneath, with a murkymurky/ ˈmər-kē / adjectivemurkyNot clear or transparent; thick with mist or smoke.The murky water in the pond made it difficult to see the fish swimming below. smear of ink. Lainey stared at it for a long time. Then she folded it up very small and put it in her pocket, next to Brother Anselm's sheet of paper, and did not tell anyone.

"They're right, you know," she said to Alicia, that afternoon.

They were sitting on the stairs, halfway up, under the great black LAINEY, because it was the only place in the school where nobody came near them. Priya had gone to help Sister Olga in the sanatorium. Old Tobias had gone back down to the cove to stare at the fog.

"Who's right?"

"Whoever wrote that note. The people who think I'm the disasterdisaster/ di-ˈza-stər / noundisasterA sudden event that causes great damage or loss.The earthquake was a major disaster that affected thousands of lives.. It is my fault." Lainey hugged her knees. "If I hadn't gone into the caves, if I hadn't taken the bottles..."

"Then I'd still be voiceless," said Alicia. "And Priya. And Emily and Ada and Rosalind. And next year it'd be some other girl, and the year after that some other girl, for ever." She shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. You don't get to feel guilty about that. I won't let you."

"But everyone else..."

"Everyone else is Miss Corvin's fault. Don't you dare scoldscold/ ˈskōld / verbscoldTo criticise or tell someone off sharply.The teacher acted as a scold when the students misbehaved. yourself for what she did. She did this. Not you." Alicia leaned back against the banisterbanister/ ˈba-nə-stər / nounbanisterA vertical post that supports a handrail along a staircase.He polished the banister before the guests arrived for dinner. and glared up at the word on the wall. "And anyway, feeling sorry for yourself is a total waste of time. It achieves zilchzilch/ ˈzilch / nounzilchA quantity of nothing.After the long meeting, they realized they had accomplished zilch in terms of decisions.. Nothing. Nada. You know what Nani would say."

Lainey almost smiled. "Don't sit there like a wet chapati. Do something."

"Exactly. So." Alicia held out her hand and began to count on her fingers, the way she always did when she was making a plan. "One. We're stuck on the island. Two. Nobody can talk except us. Three. Miss Corvin's run off somewhere. Four. The Hush wants you. Five..." She stopped. She was looking at the wall beside the staircase, just below the great black LAINEY. Her face had gone very still. "Lainey. Look at that."

"Look at what?"

"That word. There. The little one."

Lainey looked.

The walls of the staircase were covered in black words, like every other wall in the school. She had been so busy not looking at them that she had not really seen them. They were not all the same. Some were big and some were small. Some were long and some were short. They grew out of the plaster in every direction, some straight, some sideways, some running thwartwisethwartwise/ ˈthwȯrt-ˌwīz / adverbthwartwiseIn a direction that is crosswise or perpendicular.The path ran thwartwise to the river, making it easy to cross. across the others like branches across a path.

And the one Alicia was pointing at, just above the banisterbanister/ ˈba-nə-stər / nounbanisterA vertical post that supports a handrail along a staircase.He polished the banister before the guests arrived for dinner. rail, said:

GRASHUS.

Lainey frowned at it. "What's grashus?"

"No idea. Say it out loud."

"Grashus." She said it slowly. "Grah-shus." And then she understood. "Oh! Gracious. Like 'goodness gracious.' It's gracious, spelled wrong."

"Who says goodness gracious?"

They looked at each other.

"Mrs Hartwell," they both said together.

Lainey got up and walked along the wall. Now that she was really looking, she could see it everywhere. The words on the walls were real words. Ordinary words. Words that people said every day. But every single one of them was misspelled. There was WEDNESDY and NESSESSARY and BYUTIFUL. There was SKOOL and FRENZ and TOMOROW and PLEEZ. There was SHURE, and SOOP, and ANEWAY, and a long, wobbly one that said SINSEERLY, and a very short one, low down near the floor, that said simply MUMY.

"It can't spell," said Lainey slowly. "Alicia. The Hush. It can't spell."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. It only ever hears words. It eats the sound of them. It's never seen a word written down in its life. It doesn't know how they're spelled." She touched GRASHUS with the tip of her finger. The black letters were cold and slightly sticky, like the inside of a fridge. "So when it steals a word, it writes it down the way it sounds. That's why they're all wrong."

"So the Hush is basically a giant blockheadblockhead/ ˈbläk-ˌhed / nounblockheadA person who is regarded as stupid or foolish.He felt like a blockhead for forgetting his best friend's birthday.," said Alicia. "It's nutsnuts/ ˈnəts / adjectivenutsCrazy or eccentric in behavior or ideas.He was nuts about his favorite band, attending every concert.." "A big, stupid word-eating blockhead that can't spell 'gracious.'" She grinned suddenly. "Oh, that is the best news I've heard all week."

But Lainey was not listening. She was thinking about the first night, and the second night, and the third. About the words the Hush had given her to spell. About what had happened every time she spelled one right.

The letters on the wall gave a little quiver.

"Alicia," she said. "What happens if I spell it properly?"

She took a deep breath. She stood in front of the wall. And in a clear, slow, careful voice, she said:

"Gracious. G. R. A. C. I. O. U. S. Gracious."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the black letters began to shiver.

They shivered the way a leaf shivers in the wind, very fast and very fine. Then they began to curl up at the edges, like paper held near a candle. Then, one by one, starting with the G, they dried out and went grey and crumbled away into dust, and drifted down onto the stairs in a little powdery residueresidue/ ˈre-zə-ˌdü / nounresidueA substance that remains after a process, especially after the removal of liquid.The scientist analyzed the residue left after the reaction., like the ash at the bottom of a fireplace. In a few seconds, there was nothing left on the wall but a faint grey smudge.

And from somewhere along the corridor at the top of the stairs, there came a sound.

It was a single word. A woman's voice, high and startled and cracked with surprise, as if it had jumped out of her mouth all by itself.

"Gracious!"

Lainey and Alicia stared at each other. Then they ran.

They found Mrs Hartwell in the corridor outside her rooms, leaning against the doorjambdoorjamb/ ˈdȯr-ˌjam / noundoorjambThe vertical frame member on either side of a door opening.The painter carefully applied the trim around the doorjamb., with both hands pressed over her mouth and her eyes as round as saucers.

"Mrs Hartwell!" cried Lainey. "Did you just... can you..."

Mrs Hartwell took her hands away from her mouth. She opened it. She closed it. She tried very hard to say something; Lainey could see her trying, could see the tensetense/ ˈten(t)s / adjectivetenseStretched tight or rigid.The rope was pulled so tight that it became tense., stiffstiff/ ˈstif / adjectivestiffNot easily bent or moved; rigid.The metal rod was too stiff to bend without breaking. muscles in her neck as she pushed and pushed. But nothing came out.

Then she took a deep breath, and said, very clearly: "Gracious."

That was all. She tried again, and again. But it was the only word she could say. She could say gracious as many times as she liked, loudly or softly, happily or sadly, in a hundred different ways. But not another word. Not hello. Not Lainey. Not help.

It should have been funny. In a way, it was. The sensationsensation/ ˌsen-ˈsā-shən / nounsensationPhysical feeling or perception from contact with the body.The sudden noise created a sensation of surprise among the audience. of hearing a grown-up voice again, even just one word, made Lainey's skin tingle. But Mrs Hartwell's eyes had filled with tears, and when Lainey looked at her, she pulled Lainey into a hug so hard it squeezed the breath out of her, and over and over again, into Lainey's hair, she whispered:

"Gracious. Gracious. Oh, gracious."

That evening, in Dormitory Seven, Lainey made a list.

She sat on her bed with Nani's notebook on her knees, and Alicia and Priya beside her, and Hana and Sofia on the next bed, watching. Hana had a pencil and a block of paper ready, so that she could join in. Sofia had a bag of Chef Rocco's biscuits, which she was handing round.

Things we know, Lainey wrote.

1. The words on the walls are the words the Hush has stolen.

2. They are all spelled wrong, because the Hush has only ever heard them, never seen them.

3. If you spell one right, out loud, it crumbles. And the person it was stolen from gets that one word back.

4. Only one word, though.

She stopped and chewed her pencil. Then she wrote:

5. There are about ten thousand words on the walls.

Hana held up her block of paper. She had done a quick sum. Counted one wall in the corridor, she had written. About 300 words. Roughly 40 walls. That's 12,000. If you can do one word a minute, twelve hours a day, it will take you seventeen days. Without sleep.

Hana drew a little virgulevirgule/ ˈvər-(ˌ)gyül / nounvirguleA punctuation mark (/) used to separate related items or indicate alternatives.Please write the list of groceries with a virgule separating each item. between the numbers, 12,000 / 1 = 17 days, the way maths teachers do.

"Seventeen days," said Alicia. "That's not too bad."

Hana wrote: And by then the Hush will have taken more.

"Oh," said Alicia. "That's bad."

Lainey stared at the list. A feeling of despairdespair/ di-ˈsper / noundespairFeeling of being overwhelmed by negative emotions.He fell into a state of despair after the unexpected loss. came creeping over her, cold and grey, like the fog. Twelve thousand words. One girl. It's impossible.

And then Sofia, who had been quietly eating biscuits and looking at the list over Lainey's shoulder, put out her hand and took the pencil. In her big, loopy, cheerful handwriting, underneath number five, she wrote:

Does it have to be OUT LOUD?

They all looked at her.

Sofia shrugged. She pointed at the wall beside her bed, where a black word said GOODNITE. Then she took a red felt-tip pen out of her pencil case, and with a big, flourishing, slightly cheeky gumptiongumption/ ˈgəm(p)-shən / noungumptionReadiness to act or make decisions; initiative.She showed great gumption by starting her own business. that was very Sofia, she crossed out the word and wrote, in neat red letters right over the top of it:

GOODNIGHT.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the black letters underneath the red ones began to shiver. And curl. And crumble. And fall in a little grey heap on Sofia's pillow.

From the next bed, Hana gasped. It was the first sound Lainey had heard her make in two days.

"Goodnight," whispered Hana, in astonishment. "Goodnight." It was the word she had been saying when the lights went out, on the night of the Gala. She clapped both hands over her mouth, and her eyes shone above them like stars.

Lainey looked at Sofia. Sofia looked at Lainey. It was not telepathictelepathic/ ˌte-lə-ˈpa-thik / adjectivetelepathicRelating to the ability to communicate thoughts or feelings without using the traditional senses.He believed he had telepathic powers that allowed him to read minds.. Nobody could read anybody's mind. But in that moment they all understood each other perfectly. A slow, enormous smile spread across Sofia's face, so wide that the dimpledimple/ ˈdim-pəl / noundimpleA small natural indentation in the skin, often found on the cheeks.Her smile was accentuated by a cute dimple on her right cheek. in her left cheek almost disappeared into it.

Sofia only ever grinsgrins/ ˈgrinz / plural noungrinsBroad smiles.The child had big grins when she saw the puppy. like that when she has won something, Lainey thought. "Anyone," breathed Lainey. "Anyone can do it. It doesn't have to be me. It just has to be spelled right."

She jumped off the bed. She grabbed a pencil. She looked at the walls of Dormitory Seven, black with misspelled words from the floor to the ceiling, and for the first time since the Gala, she did not feel afraid of them.

"It works," she said. "It's effectualeffectual/ i-ˈfek-chə-wəl / adjectiveeffectualProducing a desired effect; effective.The new policy was effectual in improving employee morale.. It actually works." A wild, happyhappy/ ˈha-pē / adjectivehappyFeeling or showing pleasure or contentment.She felt happy when she received the good news about her promotion. defiancedefiance/ ˈfīən(t)s də̇ / noundefianceA refusal to obey authority or to accept control.Her act of defiance was evident when she stood up against the unfair rules. rose up inside her. "Get your pens," she said. "Everyone. Every pen in the school. Every pencil. Every bit of chalk." She was already halfway to the door. "We're going to need a lot of quickquick/ ˈkwik / adjectivequickCharacterized by speed or promptness.She made a quick decision to leave early and avoid traffic. spellers."

Behind her, Alicia let out a whoop that rang along the corridor like a trumpet.

"Oh, the Hush," she said happily, "is going to hate this."

By breakfast the next morning, Blackwood had become an army. Not an army of soldiers. An army of spellers, and a resistanceresistance/ ri-ˈzi-stən(t)s / nounresistanceThe act of opposing or withstanding.There was significant resistance to the new policy among the employees., and every one of them doggeddogged/ ˈdȯ-gəd / adjectivedoggedMarked by persistent effort and determination.Her dogged determination helped her overcome every obstacle. and determined.

It started in Dormitory Seven, with five girls and a red felt-tip pen. By midnight it had spread to every dormitory on the corridor. By two in the morning, Mrs Hartwell had found out, and Lainey had been sure they were all going to be in the most enormous trouble of their lives. Instead, Mrs Hartwell had looked at the red words on the walls, and the grey dust on the floor, and the girls in their pyjamas clutching their pens, and said, "Gracious," in a voice that wobbled. Then she had gone away and come back with a whole box of marker pens from the art room.

And by seven o'clock, when Dr Ashcombe came down the great staircase and saw what was happening, the whole school was awake.

He did not waste time. Lainey had always thought of Dr Ashcombe as a slow, rumbling sort of man, but it turned out that when there was a real emergency, he was as quick and clear as a general.

By eight o'clock, there was a new scheduleschedule/ ˈske-(ˌ)jül / nounscheduleA plan for carrying out a process or procedure, giving lists of intended events and times.The project manager created a detailed schedule to ensure timely completion., a sort of bulletinbulletin/ ˈbu̇ -lə-tᵊn / nounbulletinA brief announcement or report, especially one issued by an organization.The latest school bulletin informed parents about upcoming events and activities., pinned up on the noticeboard in the entrance hall, written in his big square capitals.

THE SPELLING CAMPAIGN

All normal lessons are cancelled until further notice.

Every student and every member of staff will join a TROOP of ten.

Each troop will be given a ZONE of the school.

Each troop will correct every word in its zone, in red ink, carefully.

Check every word TWICE before you write it.

A WRONG correction will not work and may make things WORSE.

Dictionaries are in the library. Mr Grieve will help.

Lainey, Alicia and Priya will be in charge of anything difficult.

God help us all. J. A.

Mr Grieve had also printed a leafletleaflet/ ˈlēflə̇ t / nounleafletA printed sheet of paper, often folded, that gives information.You can find a leaflet on the bulletin board detailing the community events., Ten Rules for Good Spelling, and left a pile of them on every table. Underneath the notice, someone had added in pencil: And DON'T write on the portraits.

Nobody was left out. Inclusioninclusion/ in-ˈklü-zhən / nouninclusionThe act of including someone, or the state of being included.of new members to the organization. was the whole point, Dr Ashcombe wrote: every participantparticipant/ pär-ˈti-sə-pənt / nounparticipantA person who takes part in something.Each participant received a medal for their participation in the event. mattered, from the head boy to the newest Year Seven. Each trooptroop/ ˈtrüp / nountroopA group organized for a common purpose.A large troop of scouts gathered at the park for their meeting. got a coloured armband made out of strips of old sheets, and a map of the school with its zonezone/ ˈzōn / nounzoneAn area or region distinguished from others by specific characteristics.The park is located in a designated zone for wildlife preservation. shaded in. Raven House took the north wing, and Kestrel House took the south. The teachers took the corridors, and the kitchen staff took the kitchens, and the little ones in Year Seven were given the ground floor, where the words were lowest down and easiest to reach.

"It's like a tournamenttournament/ ˈtu̇r-nə-mənt / nountournamentA competition involving a series of games or contests.The annual chess tournament attracted players from all over the country.," said Alicia, watching the troops march off along the corridors with their armbands and their marker pens. "Raven versus Kestrel. The Great Spelling Cup."

"Don't say that," said Lainey. "They'll start keeping score."

"Too late," said Alicia. "Look. That's not a goalgoal/ ˈgōl / noungoalThe end toward which effort is directed; an aim or desired result.The team set a challenging goal to improve their performance this season., that's a war."

They did, of course. Within an hour, a huge chart had appeared outside the dining hall, with every troop's name down one side and a rowrow/ ˈrō / nounrowA linear arrangement of objects or people.The chairs were arranged in a neat row for the event. of little red ticks along the other. The Kestrel sixth formers started a sweepstakessweepstakes/ ˈswēp-ˌstākz / nounsweepstakesA contest in which participants buy tickets for a chance to win prizes.He was excited to participate in the sweepstakes for a chance to win a car., where you paid a toffee as a tokentoken/ ˈtō-kən / nountokenA small object used instead of money, or as a sign or symbol of something.I received a bus token as a gift for my birthday. to bet on which troop would win, and the prize was the whole bag of toffees. Lainey decided not to notice.

She had not realised how many people in Blackwood could not spell. It was a whole gamutgamut/ ˈga-mət / noungamutA complete range or scope of something.The artist's work displayed a gamut of colors and styles., from the very good to the truly awful.

She found that out by ten o'clock. It was a shock, at first. Some of the cleverest people in the school, girls who could do long division in their heads and boys who could name every bone in the body, turned out to be completely hopeless at spelling. They wrote necessary with two Cs. They wrote separate with an E in the middle. One of the Year Eleven prefects, the tall girl who had held up the angry note in the Great Hall, spent twenty minutes trying to correct the word RITHUM, and kept writing rythm, and then rhythym, and then rhythem, and nothing happened at all, and she got so cross that she threw her pen across the corridor.

Lainey picked it up and gave it back to her.

"It's R, H, Y, T, H, M," she said. "Rhythm. There's no vowel in the second half. Everyone gets it wrong. Mr Grieve says it's the hardest word in English for its size."

The girl looked at her for a long moment. Then she wrote it. RHYTHM. The black letters underneath shivered and crumbled, and from somewhere down in the music rooms there was a sudden burst of drums, as if the music teacher had just got the word back and wanted everyone to hear.

The tall girl's name was Imogen. She looked at the grey dust on the floor. Then she looked at Lainey. Then she took out a new piece of paper and wrote, a little stiffly:

Sorry about the note. The one under your door. It was me.

"I know," said Lainey. "It's all right. You were frightened."

Imogen's face went slowly pink. It was hard to remainremain/ rə-ˈmān / verbremainTo stay in the same place or condition.The ancient ruins were all that remained of the once-great civilization. angry with someone who had just given you your music teacher back. Then she wrote: Can you give us a tutorialtutorial/ tü-ˈtȯr-ē-əl / nountutorialA lesson or series of lessons designed for self-directed learning.The online tutorial helped me learn the new software at my own pace.? Some of my troop are TERRIBLE.

So Lainey gave tutorials. Lots of them. All morning, she went from troop to troop, from corridor to corridor, explaining the rules that Nani had taught her when she was six years old, sitting at the kitchen table with a pencil and a plate of biscuits.

I before E, except after C, when the sound is EE.

When two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking.

Never believe a word that looks easy.

It turned out that she was rather good at it. She liked to interactinteract/ ˌin-tə-ˈrakt / verbinteractTo act in such a way as to have an effect on each other.Students will have the opportunity to interact with experts during the workshop. with people, and she liked to welcomewelcome/ ˈwel-kəm / verbwelcomeTo receive in a friendly manner.The teacher will welcome the students at the beginning of the school year. them into her favourite thing in the world. The trick, she realised, was not to make people feel stupid. Everyone was a learner, really. Everyone was an educandeducand/ ˈe-jə-ˌkand / nouneducandA person who is being educated.Each educand participated actively in the classroom discussions., as Mr Grieve put it, a person in the middle of being educated, whether they were eleven or eighty. And once people stopped being frightened of getting it wrong, they got it right much more often.

Some of the walls were much harder than others. The Hush had stolen words in every language spoken at Blackwood, and there were a lot of them. In the corridor outside the language rooms, the walls were covered in French and Spanish and German and Arabic, all spelled wrong, and Lainey had to fetch the language teachers to help. Madame Dubois, the French teacher, spent the whole morning putting back the little marks above the letters, the accents and the cedillas and the hats.

"Every diacriticdiacritic/ ˌdī-ə-ˈkri-tik / noundiacriticA mark added to a letter to indicate a different pronunciation or to distinguish between similar words.The teacher explained how a diacritic can change the pronunciation of a letter. matters. Every accent. Every typetype/ ˈtīp / nountypeA category of things or people having common characteristics.This type of fabric is perfect for making summer dresses. of mark," she wrote crossly on her clipboard, adding an acute accent to the word ÉTÉ with the air of a woman defending her country. "Without the accent, it is not a word. It is a mess."

A Year Nine boy called Li Wei, whose family came from Shanghai, found three Chinese words on the wall outside his dormitory, written out in ordinary English letters. They were in pinyinpinyin/ ˈpin-ˌyīn / nounpinyinA system for transcribing the sounds of Mandarin Chinese using the Latin alphabet.Students often practice writing in pinyin to improve their pronunciation., he wrote, which was the way Chinese sounds were spelled with the Roman alphabet, and the Hush had got all the tone marks wrong. He fixed them in about four seconds, looking very pleased with himself.

Sofia found a whole patch of words in Argentinian Spanish, the kind of slang her cousins used back in Buenos Aires. She said it was a dialectdialect/ ˈdī-ə-ˌlekt / noundialectA variety of a language that is characteristic of a particular area, community or social group, differing from other varieties of the same language in relatively minor ways as regards grammar, phonology, and lexicon.The professor taught a course on the local dialect of the region. that nobody outside Argentina would understand, and she corrected them all with great enjoyment, and refused to tell anybody what any of them meant.

Some people just liked to dabbledabble/ ˈda-bəl / verbdabbleTo engage in an activity in a casual or superficial way.She decided to dabble in painting as a way to relax., trying a word here and there; others went at it in a long spreespree/ ˈsprē / nounspreeA short burst of doing a lot of something.winning the lottery., correcting fifty words without stopping. Even Old Tobias got involved. He came up from the cove at lunchtime, still grumbling about the fog, and found that a dozen words on the wall of the boathouse were in the old island vernacularvernacular/ vər-ˈna-kyə-lər / nounvernacularUsing a language or dialect native to a region or country rather than a literary, cultured, or foreign language.The author wrote the story in the local vernacular to connect with the community., the rough, salty fishermen's language that his grandfather had spoken. Nobody else at Blackwood knew how to spell them. Old Tobias did not know either. But he stood in front of the wall for a long time, saying them over and over to himself, and in the end he got eight out of twelve, and came up to the school looking as proud as a peacock.

"Haven't written a word of the old talk since I was a boy," he said. "My grandmother'd be proud of me."

The strangest words of all were in the library.

Mr Grieve had put himself in charge of the library zone, and when Lainey went to see how he was getting on, she found him standing in front of the shelves of old books with a red pen in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other, looking completely delighted.

He could not speak. But he had a small blackboard hanging round his neck on a string, and he wrote on it very fast.

LOOK AT THIS ONE.

He pointed. On the end of a bookcase, in black curling letters, was the word SMOG.

"Smog?" said Lainey. "That's spelled right, isn't it?"

Mr Grieve wiped the blackboard with his sleeve and wrote: YES. AND IT'S STILL THERE. WHY?

Lainey thought about it. Then she said slowly: "Because it's not a real word? Not an ordinary one, anyway. It's two words stuck together. Smoke and fog. Sm, from smoke, and og, from fog."

Mr Grieve beamed. He wrote: A PORTMANTEAUportmanteau/ pȯrt-ˈman-(ˌ)tō / nounportmanteauA word formed by blending the sounds and meanings of two or more words.The term 'smog' is a portmanteau created from the words 'smoke' and 'fog'.! Two words packed into one, like two sets of clothes in one suitcase. The Hush doesn't know how to unpack them. It needs BOTH words spelled out, one after the other. He wrote underneath, in red: SMOKE + FOG = SMOG. The black letters shivered and crumbled. Mr Grieve looked so happy that Lainey thought he might start dancing.

There were dozens of strange words in the library, from the literaryliterary/ ˈli-tə-ˌrer-ē / adjectiveliteraryRelating to books, writing and literature.readers and critics alike. section, where the poets lived, to the gallerygallery/ ˈgal(ə)rē / noungalleryA room or building for the exhibition of art.The art exhibit featured a stunning collection of works in the gallery. at the top of the iron staircase where the old maps were kept. There were words that the Hush had heard Mr Grieve muttering to himself over the years: very old words, and very long words, and very grand words, the kind that only professors use. Lainey and Mr Grieve worked on them all afternoon. Mr Grieve's explanations were long and elaborativeelaborative/ i-ˈlab-ə-rə-tiv / adjectiveelaborativeProviding or characterized by detailed explanation or analysis.The scientist provided an elaborative analysis of the experiment's results., full of footnotes. It was like doing the hardest crossword puzzle in the world.

The whole school seemed to hustlehustle/ ˈhə-səl / verbhustleTo move or act with energy or speed.He had to hustle quickly to catch the bus before it left. from one wall to the next, never stopping. It was dynamicdynamic/ dī-ˈna-mik / adjectivedynamicMarked by usually continuous and productive activity or change.The dynamic changes in technology have transformed our daily lives., Dr Ashcombe wrote, which meant always changing, always moving. By the end of the first day, Blackwood had corrected two thousand, one hundred and eleven words.

Hana kept count, on a little wooden abacusabacus/ ˈa-bə-kəs / nounabacusA device used for performing arithmetic calculations, consisting of a frame with rods or grooves on which beads are moved.The children learned to use an abacus to solve math problems. that she had borrowed from the maths department, sliding the beads along the wires so fast that they clicked like rain. She said that if you wanted to count really fast without a calculator, there was nothing in the world to beat an abacus, and that her grandmother in Kyoto could add up a shopping bill on one faster than a cash register. Some of the beads were red and some were white. The white ones counted ones and the red ones counted fives. It was a quinaryquinary/ ˈkwī-nə-rē / adjectivequinaryOf or relating to a system based on the number five.The quinary system is often used in various cultural practices. system, she wrote, based on the number five, like counting on the fingers of one hand.

And all over the school, very slowly, the sounds were coming back.

Not voices. Not properly. Nobody could say more than a word or two yet. But the words were coming back, one by one, like birds returning after a long winter. A Year Seven boy got back the word sandwich and went around saying it to everyone he met, with enormous satisfaction. Mr Fenwick got back the word indeed, which seemed to suit him. One of the cleaners got back blimey, and said it so often, and in so many different tones of voice, that it became a kind of socialsocial/ ˈsō-shəl / adjectivesocialRelating to society or its organization; marked by friendly companionship.We enjoyed the lively atmosphere at the social gathering. event, with little crowds gathering just to hear her. There was a lot of hilarityhilarity/ ˈlarətē hə̇ / nounhilarityState of being amused or entertained.The hilarity of the children's laughter filled the room during the birthday party., and a kind of jovialjovial/ ˈjō-vē-əl / adjectivejovialMarked by or full of good humor and high spirits.His jovial laughter made everyone feel welcome at the party. folksinessfolksiness/ #ERROR! / nounfolksinessThe quality of being friendly and sociable.The community's folksiness was evident during the annual festival., as if the whole school had become one big village. There was a lot of laughter, too, which was strange, because laughter seemed to be one of the very few sounds the Hush had not stolen. Lainey thought that perhaps it could not. Perhaps laughter was too big and too wild to fit in a bottle.

Every corrected word was cheered. Every troop that cleared a wall was carried round the corridor on everyone's shoulders. Imogen's troop was toutedtouted/ ˈtau̇ -təd / verbtoutedTo promote or praise publicly.new product as a game changer in the market. as the best in the school. Dr Ashcombe pinned a list on the noticeboard of every troop that had done especially well, full of laudatorylaudatory/ ˈlȯ-də-ˌtȯr-ē / adjectivelaudatoryExpressing or conveying praise.The critic wrote a laudatory review of the new play. comments in his big square capitals. SPLENDID WORK! MAGNIFICENT! A TRIUMPH! The accoladeaccolade/ ˈa-kə-ˌlād / nounaccoladeAn expression of praise or admiration.Receiving the scholarship was a significant accolade for her hard work in school. for the best speller of the day went to Imogen, who had corrected two hundred and three words without a single mistake, and who went red to the tips of her ears when Dr Ashcombe shook her hand. She was not used to adulationadulation/ ˌa-jə-ˈlā-shən / nounadulationExcessive admiration or praise.Celebrities often seek the adulation of fans to boost their public image..

It was, Lainey thought, the happiest she had ever seen Blackwood. It was like a dreamdream/ ˈdrēm / noundreamA strongly desired goal or purpose.Her lifelong dream was to travel the world and experience different cultures.. Which was a strange thing to think, in a school where nobody could talk.

Of course, an army needs feeding.

That was Chef Rocco's department, and Chef Rocco took it very seriously indeed.

"An army," he wrote on the big whiteboard in the kitchen, in letters a foot high, "marches on its stomachstomach/ ˈstə-mək / nounstomachA sac-like organ in which food is stored and partially digested.The doctor explained how the stomach plays a crucial role in digestion.. NAPOLEON." Then, underneath: "And this army is going to march on MINE."

Chef Rocco had always believed that food was the answer to everything. Sad? Eat. Frightened? Eat. Lost your voice to an ancient evil that lived in the walls? Definitely eat. And now that he could not shout at anybody, he poured all his shouting into his cooking instead. The kitchen became a battlefield. Sauces began to simmersimmer/ ˈsi-mər / verbsimmerGentle cooking method just below boiling point.The soup was left on the simmer to keep warm. on every ring of the stove. Steam rose from every pot. Pans clattered. Knives flashed. Chef Rocco stood in the middle of it all, red-faced and sweating, with a wooden spatulaspatula/ ˈspa-chə-lə / nounspatulaA utensil with a broad, flat blade used for lifting or spreading food.He used a spatula to spread the frosting evenly on the cake. in one hand and a ladle in the other, conducting his cooks like an orchestra.

Lainey and Alicia were still on kitchen duty, punishment or no punishment, and so they saw it all.

"The menumenu/ ˈmen-(ˌ)yü / nounmenuA list of food and drink items available at a restaurant or event.The waiter handed me the menu to review the specials.," wrote Chef Rocco on the whiteboard, on the first morning, "will be FOOD FROM EVERY COUNTRY IN THIS SCHOOL. So that everyone remembers home." He underlined it three times. Every meal would be nutritiousnutritious/ nü-ˈtri-shəs / adjectivenutritiousProviding essential nutrients for health and growth.The salad was not only colorful but also very nutritious and satisfying., he added, full of every nutrientnutrient/ ˈnü-trē-ənt / nounnutrientA substance that provides nourishment essential for growth and the maintenance of life.Fruits and vegetables are essential sources of every important nutrient. a growing child could need, and copiouscopious/ ˈkō-pē-əs / adjectivecopiousExisting in large amounts; abundant.The chef prepared a copious feast for the guests at the banquet.: nobody would leave the table hungry. Then he went to the cold store and began pulling out sacks and boxes and crates as if he were trying to empty a whole restaurantrestaurant/ ˈre-stə-ˌränt / nounrestaurantA place where meals are served to customers.We decided to celebrate our anniversary at a fancy restaurant downtown..

It was the strangest, most wonderful week of food that Lainey had ever eaten.

On Monday, there was Japanese food for Hana, who cried a little when she saw it. There were bowls of thick white udonudon/ ˈü-ˌdän / nounudonA type of thick noodle made from wheat flour, commonly used in Japanese cuisine.I enjoyed a bowl of udon served in a savory broth. noodles in hot, salty broth, and crunchy golden tempuratempura/ ˈtem-pə-rə / nountempuraA dish of seafood or vegetables that are coated in batter and deep-fried.The restaurant is famous for its delicious tempura served with a dipping sauce., prawns and sweet potato and green beans fried in a batter so light it shattered like glass. On Tuesday, there was Mexican food: sizzling fajitasfajitas/ fə-ˈhē-tə / plural nounfajitasStrips of marinated meat, typically grilled, served with tortillas and various toppings.The restaurant served delicious grilled fajitas with fresh vegetables., strips of spicy chicken and peppers that hissed and spat on their hot iron plates, and great bowls of creamy green guacamoleguacamole/ ˌgwä-kə-ˈmō-lē / nounguacamoleA dip made from mashed avocados, often mixed with lime juice, salt, and other ingredients.I always enjoy making fresh guacamole for my tacos., and frijolesfrijoles/ frij-ˈō-lās / plural nounfrijolesAny of various beans of the genus Phaseolus, especially used in Latin American cuisine.The chef prepared a traditional dish using frijoles and spices., the soft brown beans that Sofia's abuela cooked for hours with onion and garlic, and a tortatorta/ ˈtȯr-tə / nountortaA Mexican sandwich made with a soft roll and filled with various ingredients, typically including meat and toppings.I ordered a tasty torta filled with grilled chicken and fresh vegetables. for everyone, a soft white roll stuffed so full of meat and beans and cheese that you had to hold it with both hands. Sofia said it was not quite as good as her abuela's. Then she ate three.

On Wednesday, Italy. Chef Rocco was Italian, and he went completely wild. There was lasagnalasagna/ lə-ˈzän-yə / nounlasagnaA dish made of layers of pasta, cheese, and various fillings, typically baked.She prepared a hearty lasagna layered with cheese and meat., layer upon layer of pastapasta/ ˈpäs-tə / nounpastaA type of food made from wheat flour and water, typically shaped into various forms and cooked in boiling water.I enjoyed a bowl of creamy pasta with marinara sauce. and meat sauce and melted cheese, bubbling and brown at the edges. There was macaronimacaroni/ ˌma-kə-ˈrō-nē / nounmacaroniA type of pasta shaped like slender tubes.She prepared a delicious dish using macaroni and cheese. baked with cream. There was a soup with tiny grains of orzoorzo/ ˈȯrd-(ˌ)zō / nounorzoA type of pasta shaped like grains of rice, often used in soups and salads.The chef prepared a delicious salad with orzo for a unique texture. pasta floating in it, like rice. There was chicken piccatapiccata/ ˈkätə pə̇ / nounpiccataA dish of thinly sliced meat, typically sautéed and served with a sauce made from lemon and butter.The chef prepared a delicious veal piccata with a tangy lemon sauce., thin slices fried in butter with lemon and capers, and a big wedge of hard, salty romanoromano/ rə-ˈmä-(ˌ)nō / nounromanoA hard, sharp cheese from Italy, commonly used grated.She sprinkled romano on her salad for added flavor. cheese for grating over everything. For pudding there was gelatogelato/ jə-ˈlä-(ˌ)tō / noungelatoA type of Italian ice cream that is denser and creamier than traditional ice cream.I enjoy a scoop of refreshing gelato on hot summer days., real Italian ice cream, dense and soft and creamy, in vanillavanilla/ və-ˈni-lə / nounvanillaA flavoring derived from the pods of a tropical orchid, used in cooking and baking.The cake was flavored with rich vanilla extract. and pistachio and chocolate, and a frozen lemon granitagranita/ ˌgrä-ˈnē-tə / noungranitaA frozen dessert made from flavored ice, often with a grainy texture.On a hot day, I enjoyed a refreshing watermelon granita at the beach., crunchy with ice crystals, that made the inside of your nose tingle.

On Thursday, Germany and Middle Europe, for the exchange students from Berlin and Vienna. There were fat bratwurstbratwurst/ ˈbrät-(ˌ)wərst / nounbratwurstA type of German sausage made from finely minced pork, typically grilled or fried.We enjoyed grilling some tasty bratwurst at the summer barbecue. sausages, split and sizzling, and a huge pretzelpretzel/ ˈpret-səl / nounpretzelA type of baked bread product that is often twisted into a knot shape and typically sprinkled with coarse salt.I enjoy snacking on a warm pretzel with a side of cheese. for everyone, twisted into a knot and crusted with salt, and sour, crunchy cabbagecabbage/ ˈka-bij / nouncabbageA round, green or purple vegetable that is a variety of a wild European plant, typically used in cooking.The chef used fresh cabbage to enhance the flavor of the dish., and a big jar of picklepickle/ ˈpi-kəl / nounpickleA solution used for preserving food or for flavoring.The chef prepared a delicious pickle to accompany the main dish. that made Alicia's eyes water. Old Tobias, who had wandered in to see what all the fuss was about, was given a tankardtankard/ ˈtaŋ-kərd / nountankardA large drinking vessel, typically with a handle and often a hinged lid.He filled his tankard with ale and joined his friends at the table. of hot apple juicejuice/ ˈjüs / nounjuiceA liquid extracted from fruits or vegetables.The chef used fresh fruit to extract the sweet juice for the dessert., and sat in the corner with it in his big hands looking happier than Lainey had ever seen him.

On Friday, there was food from India and Pakistan, for Lainey and Priya and a dozen other students. There was a chicken vindaloovindaloo/ ˈvin-də-ˌlü / nounvindalooA spicy dish of Indian origin typically made with meat or shellfish, garlic, and vinegar.The chef prepared a spicy vindaloo dish that delighted the guests. so hot that one of the Year Ten boys had to put his whole head under the cold tap. Every dish had its own flavorflavor/ ˈflā-vər / nounflavorThe particular taste of a food or drink (American spelling of flavour).The flavor of the dish was enhanced by the addition of fresh herbs., as the American twins kept spelling it. There was a sweet, sour, sticky chutney made from tamarindtamarind/ ˈta-mə-rənd / nountamarindA tropical tree that produces a pod-like fruit with a tangy flavor, commonly used in cooking and beverages.The chef used tamarind to add a unique flavor to the dish., a brown fruit that grows in long pods like giant beans. There was a halwa made from semolinasemolina/ ˌse-mə-ˈlē-nə / nounsemolinaA coarse flour made from the endosperm of durum wheat, commonly used in pasta production.The recipe called for semolina to create the perfect pasta., cooked slowly in butter and sugarsugar/ ˈshu̇ -gər / nounsugarA sweet substance derived from plants, primarily used as a sweetener in foods and beverages.The novel was filled with sugar moments that delighted the readers. until it was golden and grainy and smelled of cardamom, exactly the way Nani made it. Lainey took one bite and had to go out into the corridor for a minute, because her eyes had gone blurry.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, there were a hundred other things. Chicken shawarmashawarma/ shä-ˈwȯr-mə / nounshawarmaA Middle Eastern sandwich made with meat, vegetables, and sauce wrapped in pita bread.They enjoyed a delicious shawarma filled with marinated chicken and fresh vegetables., carved in thin slices from a great turning stack of meat, for the students from Lebanon and the Emirates. A New York pastramipastrami/ pə-ˈsträ-mē / nounpastramiA type of seasoned and smoked beef, typically made from brisket or other cuts.He enjoyed a delicious pastrami with mustard and pickles. sandwich, smoked over hickoryhickory/ ˈhi-k(ə-)rē / nounhickoryA type of hardwood tree known for its strong wood and edible nuts.The furniture was crafted from hickory wood, known for its durability and rich flavor. wood, for the American twins. Crispy croquettecroquette/ krō-ˈket / nouncroquetteA small, rounded mass of meat, fish, or vegetables that is breaded and deep-fried.The chef prepared a delicious croquette filled with minced chicken and herbs. potatoes for the Spanish girls. Little brochettebrochette/ brō-ˈshet / nounbrochetteA small skewer used for holding pieces of food together, especially when grilling.The chef prepared delicious brochette of grilled vegetables for the guests. skewers of lamb and peppers grilled over charcoal, for a boy from Morocco. A cold aspicaspic/ ˈa-spik / nounaspicA savory jelly made from meat stock, often used to encase food.The chef prepared a dish that included a layer of aspic for flavor., a shining, wobbling jelly with slices of egg and ham set inside it like flowers in ice, which Chef Rocco said was a great French classic, and which absolutely nobody would eat except Mr Grieve. And grilled fish: a long, silvery escolarescolar/ ˌes-kə-ˈlär / nounescolarA type of fish found in warm waters, known for its elongated body and strong swimming ability.The chef recommended the escolar for its unique taste. from the warm southern seas, and a small, bright red rockfish that the Chilean students called a reinareina/ ˈrā-nə / nounreinaA type of rockfish found along the Pacific coast, known for its vibrant colors.The aquarium featured a colorful reina swimming among the rocks., which means queen, because it was so beautiful.

"It's a bit of an olioolio/ ˈō-lē-ˌō / nounolioA mixture of heterogeneous elements; a medley.The artist created an impressive olio of colors and textures in her painting., isn't it?" said Alicia, looking at the buffet on Friday, which had food from about twenty countries on it all at once. "A great big mixed-up medley of everything."

"Olio," said Lainey. "O, L, I, O. It means a stew, really. A mixture."

"That's what I said. It's a mixed-up stew of a buffet."

"You said it was a bit of an olio."

"Same thing." Alicia took a nuttynutty/ ˈnə-tē / adjectivenuttyHaving a flavor like that of a hard- shelled dry fruit or seed having a more or less distinct separable rind or shell and interior kernel or meat : eccentric or mentally unbalanced.The snack had a pleasantly nutty taste that complemented the chocolate., crunchy square of something sweet. "What's this?"

"Nougatnougat/ ˈnü-gət / nounnougatA sweet made from sugar or honey, nuts, and sometimes fruit.The chocolate bar was filled with rich nougat that melted in my mouth.," said Lainey. "Honey and pecanpecan/ pi-ˈkän / nounpecanA type of nut from a tree native to the southern United States and Mexico.The pie was filled with sweet pecan halves and topped with whipped cream. nuts. From Chef Rocco's grandmother's recipe."

"I love Chef Rocco's grandmother," said Alicia, with her mouth full.

It was not all fun, of course. There was no martmart/ ˈmärt / nounmartA market or place where goods are bought and sold.The local farmers gathered at the community mart to sell their produce. to run to, no corner shop, no supermarket. Feeding three hundred and fifty people every day, with no deliveries from the mainland, was a serious business.

On Wednesday evening, Lainey found Chef Rocco sitting alone at the kitchen table, long after everyone else had gone, with a calculator and a big notebook, and a face like a wet weekend. He was working out the budgetbudget/ ˈbədj-ət / nounbudgetA plan for managing income and expenses.She created a detailed budget for her upcoming project., he wrote. He was checking how much food was left.

"How long have we got?" asked Lainey.

Chef Rocco held up his notebook. He had written a list of all the groceriesgroceries/ ˈgrō-sə-rēz / plural noungroceriesItems purchased for consumption, typically including food and household supplies.I need to buy some groceries before the dinner party. in the stores. A sacksack/ ˈsak / nounsackA flexible container typically made of cloth, paper, or plastic, used for carrying or storing items.He carried a heavy sack filled with groceries from the store. of flour. Rice. Potatoes. Beans. Dried pasta. Tins of tomatotomato/ tə-ˈmā-(ˌ)tō / nountomatoA large, edible berry that is typically red and used in salads and cooking.The salad was topped with fresh slices of tomato for added flavor.. Sacks of onions and shallotshallot/ shə-ˈlät / nounshallotA type of onion that produces small bulbs and is used for flavoring in cooking.The chef included shallot in the recipe to enhance the dish's flavor. bulbs. Seventy-two gallongallon/ ˈga-lən / noungallonA unit of liquid capacity equal to four quarts or 231 cubic inches.We filled the container with a gallon of water for the event. drums of water. Twelve jars of beef jerkyjerky/ ˈjər-kē / nounjerkyMeat cut into strips, salted and dried.made a great snack., dried and salted, from a hiking trip that had been cancelled. Three tins of licoricelicorice/ ˈli-k(ə-)rish / nounlicoriceA sweet, aromatic substance derived from the root of a plant, often used in candies and herbal remedies.The candy shop offered a variety of flavors, including classic licorice. allsorts, which nobody liked. Twelve tubs of cream, which could be churnedchurned/ ˈchərnd / verbchurnedTo agitate a liquid, especially cream, to make it thicker or to produce butter.The chef churned the mixture to create a creamy texture. into butter if necessary. A supplementalsupplemental/ ˌsə-plə-ˈmen-tᵊl / adjectivesupplementalSomething added to complete or enhance.The airline offered supplemental flights to popular vacation destinations. box of emergency biscuits. At the bottom, he had written: About four weeks, if we are careful. Two if we are not.

He looked at her. Then he wrote: If this fog is still here in two weeks, little one, we have a very big problem.

"It won't be," said Lainey, with a confidence she did not feel. "I guaranteeguarantee/ ˌger-ən-ˈtē / nounguaranteeA promise or assurance that something will be done or will happen.The warranty serves as a guarantee that the product will function as promised. it." "We'll have fixed it by then."

Chef Rocco looked at her for a long moment. Then he got up and went to the fridge and came back with a plate. On it was a single, perfect chocolate truffletruffle/ ˈtrə-fəl / nountruffleA small, round chocolate confection typically filled with a creamy center.We enjoyed a rich chocolate truffle for dessert after dinner., dark and round and dusted with cocoa. He put it in front of her.

For courage, he wrote. Every army needs a little indulgenceindulgence/ in-ˈdəl-jən(t)s / nounindulgenceThe practice of allowing oneself to enjoy pleasures or luxuries.He treated himself to an afternoon of indulgence at the spa.. Even the general.

"I'm not the general," said Lainey.

Chef Rocco tapped the word LAINEY, which was written all over the walls of the school, and on the wall of his kitchen too, in letters as tall as a door. Then he raised his eyebrows.

Lainey ate the truffle.

Sister Olga had her own kitchen, in a manner of speaking.

It was a little room at the back of the sanatorium, full of jars and bottles and bunches of dried plants hanging from the ceiling. She had learned to make her own medicines in Russia, she said, in a village so far from the nearest chemist that you had to grow your own aspirin. On Thursday, Priya took Lainey to see it, and Sister Olga, who could now say the words yes, no and rubbish, showed them round with great pride, pointing at things.

There were jars of camomile and peppermint and dried elderflowers. There was a big containercontainer/ kən-ˈtā-nər / nouncontainerA receptacle or enclosure for holding something.He stored the leftovers in a container to keep them fresh for later. of honey from the island bees, from the fieldfield/ ˈfēld / nounfieldA tract of open land, especially one with grass or low vegetation.The farmer planted crops in the vast field that stretched for miles. behind the chapel where the hives stood; that summer's harvestharvest/ ˈhär-vəst / nounharvestThe gathering of crops, or the crops that are gathered.The farmers worked diligently to harvest the corn before the storm arrived.. There were bottles of medicinalmedicinal/ ˈdis(ᵊ)nəl mə̇ / adjectivemedicinalHaving properties that promote healing or alleviate symptoms.The herbalist recommended medicinal remedies to support the healing process. tinctures, dark brown and bitter, that Sister Olga said could cure anything from a cough to a broken heart. She pointed at a big glass jar of a hot, pale yellow slurryslurry/ ˈslər-ē / nounslurryA mixture of water and solid particles that can flow.The construction crew mixed a slurry of cement and water for the foundation., a thick mixture of crushed mustard seed and water, which she spread on cloth and put on people's chests when they had a cold.

"Does it work?" asked Lainey.

Sister Olga thought about it. "Yes," she said firmly. Then, after a moment: "No." Then, with a shrug: "Rubbish." And she laughed.

On a high shelf, behind a locked glass door, there was a row of bottles with red labels. One of them was full of something acridacrid/ ˈa-krid / adjectiveacridHaving a strong, unpleasant taste or smell.The smoke from the fire had an acrid odor that made everyone cough. and sharp, with a smell that made Lainey's eyes sting even through the glass.

Sister Olga pointed at it, and then drew her finger sharply across her throat.

Poison, she meant. Don't touch.

Lainey nodded. She did not want to touch it at all.

By Thursday night, the Red Ink Army had corrected more than six thousand words. They had begun to amassamass/ ə-ˈmas / verbamassTo gather together or accumulate a large quantity of something.He worked hard to amass a collection of rare coins over the years. a mountain of grey dust in every corridor. If they could continuecontinue/ kən-ˈtin-(ˌ)yü / verbcontinueTo persist in an activity or process without interruption.He decided to continue his workout routine to achieve better results. like this, Hana wrote, and proceedproceed/ prō-ˈsēd / verbproceedTo continue after a pause or interruption.After the break, we will proceed with the next item on the agenda. at the same speed, they would be ableable/ ˈā-bəl / adjectiveableHaving the power, skill or opportunity to do something.math problem quickly. to finish by Sunday.

And then, on Friday morning, Lainey came down the great staircase and stopped dead.

The walls were black again.

Not all of them. Not everywhere. But in the entrance hall, and along the main corridor, and up the staircase, the words that had been corrected the day before had come back. The red letters had gone. Somebody had wiped them away. And where they had been, growing out of the plaster like weeds in a garden after rain, were the black words again, glistening and wet and misspelled, as if nobody had ever touched them.

GRASHUS, said the wall beside the banister.

Lainey stood very still.

It would take a whole day to replicatereplicate/ ˈre-plə-ˌkāt / verbreplicateTo make a copy or duplicate.The scientist aimed to replicate the experiment to verify the results. all that work. There was a smell in the air. A sharp, oily, chemical smell, like paint and pine trees, that caught in the back of her throat. She had smelled it before, in the art room, when the art teacher cleaned her brushes. It was turpentineturpentine/ ˈtər-pən-ˌtīn / nounturpentineA volatile oil obtained from the resin of certain pine trees, used as a solvent and in varnishes.The artist used turpentine to thin the paint and create a smooth texture..

Alicia came down the stairs behind her and stopped too.

"What," she said slowly, "happened?"

"Somebody," said Lainey, "came down here in the night. With a rag. And turpentine. And rubbed out all our corrections." She touched the wall. The plaster was still damp. "And the Hush grew back."

"But who would do that?"

Lainey did not answer. She was looking at the floor. There, at the bottom of the stairs, on the grey stone, lay a tiny thing that glinted in the morning light. She bent down and picked it up.

It was a little metal tip. The kind you find on the end of a shoelace. An agletaglet/ ˈa-glət / nounagletA small plastic or metal sheath at the end of a shoelace.The aglet on my shoelace was shiny and decorative., Nani called it, a word Lainey had always loved because it sounded like a small bird. This one was not plastic, and it was in the wrong positionposition/ pə-ˈzi-shən / nounpositionThe act of placing something in a particular location or arrangement.The artist carefully chose the position of the sculpture to enhance its visual impact., right in the middle of the bottom step, as if it had fallen off in a hurry. It was brass, old and worn and polished, the kind that came on very old-fashioned shoes.

"Someone in this school," said Lainey quietly, "is on the Hush's side."

Behind her, very softly, a door closed somewhere at the top of the stairs.

They both looked up. There was nobody there.

At lunchtime, Mr Al Mansoori found them in the dining hall.

He had got back two words so far, thank and you, which he said to Chef Rocco very politely, and then he pushed a folded note across the table to Lainey. It was written in his small, neat, careful handwriting, as tidy as a row of soldiers.

Ms Reyes has finished reading the trust accounts. All 710 years of them. She has found something you should see. Come to the records room at four o'clock. Bring Alicia. Tell no one else. Not even Dr Ashcombe.

And underneath, in smaller letters:

Follow the money, Lainey. It always tells the truth.

The records room was in the oldest part of the school, at the top of a crooked tower that leaned slightly to one side, like a tired old man. It was not an elegantelegant/ ˈe-li-gənt / adjectiveelegantMarked by refined beauty and tastefulness in appearance or manner.The dancer moved with elegant grace across the stage. building, or a majesticmajestic/ məˈjestik / adjectivemajesticHaving grandeur or beauty that inspires admiration.The majestic eagle soared gracefully above the mountains. one. It was squat and crooked and austereaustere/ ȯ-ˈstir / adjectiveaustereStern and cold in appearance or manner.The artist's style was often described as austere, reflecting a minimalist approach., built for keeping things in, not for showing off.

Lainey and Alicia climbed the spiral stairs at exactly four o'clock. Mr Al Mansoori had always struck Lainey as a very punctualpunctual/ ˈpəŋk-chə-wəl / adjectivepunctualOn time; prompt.The train arrived at the station with punctual precision. sort of person, someone who would rather die than be late, and she did not want to keep him waiting. At the top was a small wooden door with a brass plate on it that said TRUST ARCHIVE: PRIVATE. Lainey knocked. The door opened at once.

"Thank you," said Mr Al Mansoori, which was one of his two words, and stood aside to let them in.

It was a round room, with a single round window, and every inch of it was books. Not ordinary books. Account books. Ledgers. Great tall volumes bound in leather and cloth, red and green and brown and black, some as thick as a loaf of bread, stacked from the floor to the ceiling in towers that wobbled. There were boxes of papers, and rolls of parchment tied with faded ribbon, and on a big table in the middle of the room, under a lamp, lay dozens of ledgers, all open, all covered in yellow sticky notes.

And in the middle of it all, sitting very upright at the table with a pencil behind her ear and a cup of black coffee at her elbow, was Ms Reyes.

She was the tall woman with grey hair who walked like a general. She had once worked as an attacheattache/ ˌa-tə-ˈshā / nounattacheA member of a diplomatic staff who is assigned to a specific area of expertise.An attache provides valuable insights to the ambassador. at a British embassyembassy/ ˈem-bə-sē / nounembassyA diplomatic mission or the office of an ambassador.The staff at the embassy worked diligently to resolve the international issue. abroad, Mr Al Mansoori had told them, and then as a panelistpanelist/ ˈpan-ə-ləst / nounpanelistA member of a panel taking part in a discussion or debate.The panelist provided thoughtful commentary on the panel's topic. on a government committee that checked how charities spent their money, before she became an auditor. Up close, she had sharp grey eyes behind small round glasses, and a face that looked as if it had never once been fooled by anybody. She had no biasbias/ ˈbī-əs / nounbiasA tendency to favor one person or group over another.Her personal bias affected her decision-making in the project., Mr Al Mansoori said; she would check a duke and a dustman with exactly the same care. She had been reading the trust accounts for six days, Mr Al Mansoori had told them, almost without stopping. She had read all seven hundred and ten years of them.

She had got back four words so far. They were no, look, here, and nonsense. It was, Lainey thought, a very good set of words for an auditor.

"Look," said Ms Reyes, and pointed at the chair beside her.

Lainey sat down. Alicia sat beside her. Mr Al Mansoori stood behind them with his hands folded, and Ms Reyes began to write on a big pad of yellow paper, very fast, in a sharp, slanting hand.

How much do you know about trusts?

"Nothing," said Lainey honestly.

Good. Then I will start at the beginning, with a short synopsissynopsis/ sə-ˈnäp-səs / nounsynopsisA summary or general survey of a subject.The author provided a brief synopsis of the book at the beginning.. Ms Reyes wrote quickly. A trust is a way of looking after money for a purpose. Someone gives money or land to a group of people, called trustees, and tells them how to use it. The trustees must follow the rules exactly. They must keep accounts of every penny. Every year, someone checks the accounts to make sure the rules are being followed. That someone is an auditor. She tapped her own chest. Me.

"And the Blackwood trust was set up in 1316," said Lainey. "By Sabine Corvin."

Yes. Here is the founding declarationdeclaration/ ˌde-klə-ˈrā-shən / noundeclarationA formal statement or announcement of intentions or beliefs.The teacher asked the students to write a declaration outlining their goals for the year., in her own words. She was made the first trustee, the first nomineenominee/ ˌnä-mə-ˈnē / nounnomineeA person who is officially proposed for a position or honor.The committee announced the nominee for the prestigious award. for the post, chosen by the Abbot himself. With the land of the monastery, which the Abbot gave her as a reward for ending the famine. And with a great deal of money. Ms Reyes turned a page. Now. Most of the accounts are perfectly ordinary. The school has an incomeincome/ ˈin-ˌkəm / nounincomeThe money received for work or through investments.His annual income increased significantly after he received a promotion. from its land and from fees. It spends money on teachers and food and buildings. It keeps some money spare, and it decides to investinvest/ in-ˈvest / verbinvestTo allocate money in order to generate profit or income.She decided to invest in real estate to secure her financial future. it: to put it into businesses and land, so that it grows. Sometimes it makes a profitprofit/ ˈprä-fət / nounprofitThe excess of returns over expenditure in a transaction or series of transactions.The entrepreneur was thrilled to see a rise in profit after launching the new product.. Sometimes it makes a loss. Over the centuries, the money has been counted in many currencies. She flicked through the ledgers, showing them. Marks and shillings in the Middle Ages. Pounds sterlingsterling/ ˈstər-liŋ / nounsterlingThe basic monetary unit of the United Kingdom, equal to 100 pence.The traveler exchanged his dollars for sterling at the bank. after that. In the 1700s, when money was very short, some of the payments are so small that they are counted in a farthingfarthing/ ˈfär-t͟hiŋ / nounfarthingFormer British monetary unit equal to one quarter of a penny.She found a farthing on the ground while walking through the old market., a quarter of a penny. In the 1980s, the trust bought shares in a Japanese electronics company, and for twenty years some of the accounts are in yenyen/ ˈyen / nounyenThe basic monetary unit of Japan, used in various transactions.I have a yen for visiting Japan and experiencing its culture..

"That sounds boring," said Alicia. Then she went red. "Sorry."

"Nonsense," said Ms Reyes. It was not clear whether she meant that Alicia was wrong, or that she did not need to apologise. Possibly both. She wrote: Boring is good. Boring is what money is SUPPOSED to be. Boring money is honest money, and the growth of honest money is slow and crescivecrescive/ ˈkre-siv / adjectivecresciveCharacterized by gradual growth or development.The crescive growth of the community garden attracted many new visitors., little by little, like a tree. I am interested in the bits that are NOT boring.

She opened a big black ledger with a cracked spine, and turned it round so they could see.

Every year, she wrote, the trust pays for something called the ELOCUTION FUND. It is listed separately from everything else. It is paid directly to the elocution teacher, who spends it however she likes, and sends in a list of what she bought. Every year, the trustees met to approve it, though sometimes, when they could not agree, the Abbot would simply prorogueprorogue/ prə-ˈrōg / verbprorogueTo suspend or discontinue a session of a legislative body.The committee decided to prorogue the meeting until next week. the meeting until next year and send everyone home. Nobody has ever checked the list properly. Not once, in seven hundred years. Until this week.

She ran her finger down a column of tiny brown writing.

This is the list for 1592.

Lainey leaned in close to read it. The writing was old and faded, with long curling S's that looked like F's, but she could make it out.

Item, one grosse of small glasse bottles, with corks.

Item, sixe pounds of beeswax candles.

Item, one length of crimsoncrimson/ ˈkrim-zən / adjectivecrimsonOf a color that is a deep red with a hint of purple.She wore a crimson dress that stood out at the party. velvet, for a gown.

Item, one cloak of black wool.

Item, to the Usher of the Sea Gate, his wages for the year.

"A gross of glass bottles," said Lainey. "That's a hundred and forty-four."

Yes, wrote Ms Reyes. Now look at 1745. She opened another ledger.

Glass vials, small, one gross. Candles. One gown of vinaceousvinaceous/ vī-ˈnā-shəs / adjectivevinaceousHaving a color resembling that of red wine.The wine had a rich vinaceous hue that captivated the guests. silk, the colour of red wine. One length of Irish lace. To the Usher of the Sea Gate, his wages.

And 1890. Glass vials, one gross. Candles. One cashmerecashmere/ ˈka-zh-ˌmir / nouncashmereA fine, soft wool obtained from the undercoat of a goat native to the Himalayan region.She wore a luxurious cashmere scarf that felt soft against her skin. shawl. One pair of gloves. Lace, carrickmacrosscarrickmacross/ ˌker-ik-mə-ˈkrȯs / nouncarrickmacrossA type of lace characterized by floral or foliage designs, often made using a needle lace technique.The wedding dress featured exquisite carrickmacross lace along the hem., three yards. Turpentine, two pints. To the Usher of the Sea Gate, his wages.

And 1953. And 1975. And 2004. And last year, 2025, in a modern, typed list on headed paper. Glass vials (laboratory grade), x 144. Candles. One evening gown, red velvet. One shawl, paisley. Turpentine, 5 litres. To the Usher of the Sea Gate: annual salary.

It was a revelationrevelation/ ˌre-və-ˈlā-shən / nounrevelationThe act of making something known or revealed, especially something that was previously hidden.The author's latest book contained a surprising revelation about her childhood.. Lainey sat back. Her skin had gone cold all over.

"Every single year," she said. "A hundred and forty-four little glass bottles."

Every single year for seven hundred and ten years, wrote Ms Reyes. That is one hundred and two thousand, two hundred and forty bottles. And she only ever takes one or two voices a year. She looked at Lainey over her glasses. So what is she doing with the rest?

Nobody answered. Lainey thought of the shelves in the Room of Small Bottles, going up and up into the darkness, thousands and thousands of them. She thought of the empty space on the newest shelf, and the room for an eighth bottle.

"She's planning," said Lainey slowly. "She's always been planning. She's been getting ready for... for something big."

There is more, wrote Ms Reyes. Look at the other things she bought.

She showed them. It was like looking through the shopping lists of a very rich dowagerdowager/ ˈdau̇ -i-jər / noundowagerA widow who holds property or a title derived from her deceased husband.The dowager managed the estate with great care after her husband's passing., a grand old widow living in a palatialpalatial/ pə-ˈlā-shəl / adjectivepalatialRelating to or resembling a palace; luxurious and grand.The palatial estate was filled with luxurious furnishings and grand architecture. mansionmansion/ ˈman(t)-shən / nounmansionA large and impressive dwelling.The historic mansion was filled with elegant furnishings and beautiful artwork.. Over the centuries, the Elocution Fund had paid for a great deal of very expensive merchandisemerchandise/ ˈmər-chən-ˌdīz / nounmerchandiseGoods that are bought and sold.The store displayed a wide variety of merchandise for the holiday season.. Silk from China. Lace from Ireland and France. A carved writing bureaubureau/ ˈbyu̇r-(ˌ)ō / nounbureauA piece of furniture with a flat top and typically drawers, used for writing or working.He wrote his novel at a small bureau in the corner of the room. of black walnut, with forty-two little drawers. A Japanese futonfuton/ ˈfü-ˌtän / nounfutonA padded mattress or bedding that can be used on the floor or in a frame.I spread out my futon on the floor for a cozy movie night., in 1889, which Ms Reyes said was a soft folding mattress that could be rolled up in the day, and which must have been the first one ever seen in Scotland. An atlasatlas/ ˈat-ləs / nounatlasA bound collection of maps or charts.The student referred to an atlas to find the best route for the road trip. of the world, bound in red leather, with hand-painted maps of every sea. A gold necklace from a jewelerjeweler/ ˈjü-ə-lər / nounjewelerA person who makes or sells decorative items, often using precious or semi-precious materials.The jeweler created a stunning engagement ring that sparkled beautifully. in Paris. A small bronzebronze/ ˈbränz / nounbronzeA yellowish-brown alloy of copper and tin, often used for making sculptures and decorative items.The statue was crafted from bronze, giving it a beautiful, rich color. bell. A portraitportrait/ ˈpȯr-trət / nounportraitA likeness of a person, especially one showing the face.The gallery featured a stunning portrait of a famous historical figure. of Miss Corvin herself, painted in 1652 in a painter's studiostudio/ ˈstü-dē-ˌō / nounstudioA room where an artist, photographer or musician works.creating beautiful sculptures. in Amsterdam, by a Dutch painter who had once been a pupil of Rembrandtrembrandt/ ˈrem-ˌbrant / nounrembrandtRembrandt van Rijn, a great Dutch painter of the 1600s.The students analyzed the techniques of rembrandt in their art history class..