Olaf, who had been one of a very large family, could not imagine what that must be like. “No family,” he said. “Not one little piece of family?”
Merrin shook his head. “Nope.”
“Then where will you stay? What will you do?”
Merrin shrugged. He’d been wondering that too but had put it to the back of his mind.
Olaf made a decision. Somewhere in the Lands of the Long Nights, he had a child who he had never seen and never would see. No matter that Olaf was sure for some reason he did not understand, his child was a girl. She would, he figured, be the same age as this boy. If he could not help his own, he would do another a good turn. “Tomorrow I shall take you into the Castle and I shall show you a good place where you can stay,” he offered. “Tonight you are staying here?”
Merrin nodded.
“And today you have traveled far, I think?” Olaf was getting into his stride now and beginning to enjoy himself.
“All the way from the Badlands. Never want to go back.”
“They were not your family there?” asked Olaf.
“No way. They treated me like a servant. Or worse. Took the first chance I could to get out of there.”
Olaf nodded sympathetically. The boy, he thought, had had a hard life. It was time someone gave him a helping hand.
Encouraged by Olaf’s attention, Merrin began to tell his story. “I got away once before but I ended up stuck in the marshes with a crazy old witch who made me eat eel and cabbage sandwiches.”
“That is not good,” Olaf murmured.
“It was disgusting. But to escape from her I took a job with Simon Heap, and that was even worse. I ended up back in the same horrible place I’d grown up. I couldn’t believe it. Until a few weeks ago I thought I was stuck there forever with old Heap and that bag of bones.”
“Bag of bones?” asked Olaf, thinking he had not quite understood.
“Yeah. Simon’s old boss—and mine. DomDaniel. Lived in a sack till I tipped him out last night.”
“Tipped him…out?” Now Olaf was sure he did not understand.
“Yeah. I got his ring—want to see?”
Without waiting for an answer, Merrin waved his beringed thumb in the ghost’s face. “Mine now,” he said, “and I earned
it. It wasn’t nice going through all those bones. Some of them had stuff on them like gristle. And slime. And they were bendy. Yuck. But I got it off his thumb. Chopped the end off, ha ha. That showed him. You know, thumb bones are just like toe bones?”
Olaf nodded warily. This boy was not turning out to be quite what he had expected; he was beginning to regret his earlier offer. It was true what they said about the Living—there were some weird ones out there. Trust him to pick one of them the very first time he Appeared. Olaf was saved from hearing any more about bones by the barmaid bringing Merrin his supper: a huge plate of sausages stuck into a mound of mashed potatoes.
“I will leave you to eat your supper,” said Olaf, getting up quickly as the barmaid thumped the plate down in front of Merrin. Merrin nodded. He was pleased; he didn’t want to share any of his meal with the stranger. Merrin stabbed a large sausage with his fork. Olaf winced. He thought the sausages looked like thumb bones. He could just imagine them in a sack. Wearing rings.
“See you tomorrow, then,” said Merrin, his mouth full of sausage.
“Ah. Tomorrow. Yes, I will see you tomorrow,” said Olaf gloomily. He never broke a promise.
“Good,” said Merrin, looking up from spearing his second sausage. But the room was empty. The farmers had left, and so had the tall, blond stranger.
6
INTO THE CASTLE
W hile Merrin was trying to get
comfortable in a lumpy bed under the eaves of the Grateful Turbot, Stanley was burrowing into some straw in the rat hole underneath the resting place of the Castle drawbridge. The rat hole was a popular location for rats returning to the Castle, as it was a safe place to sleep while waiting for the dawn lowering of the drawbridge.
Stanley had been concerned that he might find the rat hole already full. This had happened to him a few times in the past and he had been forced to spend an uncomfortable night up a nearby tree, which was preferable to the haunted kitchens of the Grateful Turbot any day. Hoping he was not too late for a space, Stanley slipped down the bank and scooted into the well-hidden burrow. To his surprise, he realized that he was the only rat there. And then he remembered why—the RatStranglers.