Ivy's Tangle (Legend of the White Sword - Book 1)

Chapter 2 - Glastonbury Manor

At the front steps, I gave her my best fake meeting-new-people smile.

"Hello," I said. "I'm Jack."

She nodded again and collected my bags from the walkway.

"I can take those," I said.

Together, my four suitcases weighed a tonne, but the slender lady in the maid's uniform scooped them up as though it was nothing and took them into the house. I stood silently amazed watching her go. My grandmother's voice brought me out of my stupor.

"Do you plan on standing there, with your mouth hanging open, all afternoon?" she asked.

I hadn't seen my grandmother in a few years, but I recognised her at once. She looked like an older version of my mother. Gran was tall, thin, and had her long grey hair tied up in a tight bun. Although unusually tall for a woman, the most striking thing about my grandmother was her eyes. She had pale, icy-blue eyes that looked right through you, and, if I'm being entirely honest, were a bit creepy. My parents weren't hugging types, and one look at my grandmother told me she wasn't either.

"Hi Gran," I said. "I guess I'm staying here now?"

"You will remain a guest of this house for the next four years," she said.

She sounded like a judge handing out a sentence.

"Why?" I asked.

My parents rarely answered any why questions.

"Because I said so." Gran turned and went back inside. "Your room is on the third floor."

Apparently, Gran wasn't big on answering questions either.

My options being stand outside forever, or go inside... I went in. The front hall was vast and fancy, matching the house's exterior. My grandmother had vanished, but a wide staircase waited at the other end of the hall, and I climbed the two flights of curving stairs to the third floor. The polished walnut bannister smelled of beeswax; a younger me would've considered taking a dangerous and exciting ride back down. The main stairs stood in the centre of the house, and a hallway led off in each direction from the third floor landing.

On a whim, I headed right and found the first door open. My suitcases sat inside the doorway; I figured it must be my new room. The room was a decent size, with a double bed, a dresser, and a writing table. Like most teenage boys, I wasn't much interested in antiques or floral wallpaper, but it would do.

After emptying my suitcases into the closet and the dresser, I poked around the house. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I had nothing else to do. Gran's house was huge. There's no other word for it. She lived in the sort of big old house a rich guy owned in the 1800's. A guy—I assumed—who owned the whole county at the time. Her house had high ceilings, big leaded windows, and rooms that never seemed to end. The house would've been spooky, real horror movie material, except no ghost or vampire could've survived the endless doilies and flower-print wallpaper.

Some stuff in Gran's house was pretty cool though.

For example, I found a full suit of armour standing at one end of the second floor hallway. It was a real suit of armour too! Not a fake sheet-metal set made for decoration, and it had dents and scratches I could only assume came from battle. As I examined it, and opened the helmet's visor, I accidentally knocked the whole thing over, stand and all. The many pieces tumbled across the hardwood floor in a thunderous crash. When I looked up from the mess, I saw a girl's head sticking out from a doorway down the hall. She was short, blond, and looked a few years younger than me.

"Hi," I said. "Sorry about the noise."

The tiny girl just looked at me—the way a person might examine something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of their shoe—and stepped back into the room. I heard the door shut firmly.