Scourge: A Grim Doyle Adventure

Chapter 16

Grim groaned the next morning. It was back to the sewers again. Not exactly the sweetest prospect after eating scorched porridge, but such was his schedule.

The students were outdoors making a paltry effort to get physical activity although Madam Adelaide barely had them lifting a ball let alone catching it. He passed by Festrel and caught his whispering to the others.

 “And you know…,” he said in a hushed tone. He was discretely showing them something in his outstretched palm. “There is a band of rebels starting to rise up against my father. If you join us I will ensure that each one is given one of these.”

Overjoyed looks passed through the throng of hopefuls that surrounded him, except for Sam and Ellen who were busy cleaning off the boots of the nobles. And they had a hard time with it. Sam’s rag was so dirty he kept making Festrel’s boots even muddier.

Festrel yanked his foot back as he pocketed whatever was in his hand.

“Can’t you do anything right!” he scolded. “What sort of vermin are they letting into this place?”

“You’re mean,” Sam said.

Ellen nodded in agreement, her little eyebrows furrowed.

Festrel poked Sam in the chest with his bony, white finger. “You had better learn your place, dog. You’re not worth the dirt on my boots.”

The others that crowded around him snickered, and Grim instinctively huffed himself up. His face flushed red and he marched forward, either bravely or foolishly, knowing full well that his Aunt would kill him for this when she got wind of it.

He grabbed Festrel by his vest and yanked him away. “Get your hands off him.”

His grin was like slime. “Well, I can’t seem to avoid you, can I, Grim of House Doyle. I don’t know much about you, but I can tell you this. The moment you step out of Madam Malkim’s, I suggest you run back to your precious Southlands because I will see to it that you will find nothing but misery.”

Grim turned to Sam and Ellen. “Go!”

The two scurried through the crowd and Grim shoved Festrel up against the wall.

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” He leaned in to hiss in Grim’s ear, “…cousin.”

Grim sucked in his breath and let Festrel go. He tried to slip through the onlookers, but a hand grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Master Galan.

“Is this young man disturbing you?” he whispered.

Festrel glared at him.

“Not anymore,” Grim said.

Master Galan nodded as if in understanding. “Perhaps young Lord Festrel and I need to have a little chat. At Madam Malkim’s, the students treat our serv…err, orphans with respect.”

“He’s no orphan!” yelled Festrel. “He’s just trash that’s hiding here!”

“Please come with me,” Master Galan said and escorted Festrel away from the others. Grim weaved through the crowd, his anger boiling over and ready to burst. Treena had just come from the sewers. Her boots were still covered in slop.

She scraped her boot on the ground and looked quizzically at Grim.

“Are you all right?”

He marched towards the Academy, leaving Treena to shuffle after him, still scraping her boot.

“Where are we going?” she asked, hobbling to keep pace.

“To the Library,” said Grim. “I want to see that book Festrel had.”

“On Jinns or Changelings?”

“No. The other one. I just thought of it. There was one called Talismans. I need to know what’s in it.”

“What do you mean?”

He whispered so the others wouldn’t hear. “He called me cousin. He knows who I am.”

Treena tottered behind him, struggling to keep up. The two headed into the Library and scoured the rows. Finally on a pristinely dusted shelf they found the book Grim was looking for: Talismans. They headed towards the counter, but Grim tripped and fell at someone’s outstretched foot. It belonged to Ninnipence. Naturally she was not alone. Her brother Jackmeister was right beside her, sharing the same sickening grin. And behind them stood none other than Gorkin of the flaming red hair.

“In a rush, are we?” Gorkin asked.

Grim picked himself up from the ground.

“None of your business,” he muttered.

“I think it is my business. You see, I need my boots shined,” he said and waved them in front of Grim. They reeked of bad cheese.

Grim horked up the biggest ball of snot he could manage and was about to let it go on Gorkin’s boot when Madam Tyne strode up behind them.

“Why are you congregating in my Library? I will not have any funny business in my Library!”

Grim swallowed the ball of snot.

Gorkin gave Madam Tyne a look of feigned innocence. “Well, I need my shoes shined and these orphans are not seeing to my needs.”

Madam Tyne scowled. “Well get on with it then. Shine, boy! Shine! And then get out of my Library! And you,” she said pointing at Treena, “extra chores for you! Just look at my fine floors, sullied by your disgusting feet. Now both of you, shine!”

Grim and Treena knelt down and polished not only Gorkin’s boots, but the others as well, and that included Madam Tyne. When they finished, hyena-like laughter echoed through the Library as the three nobles departed. Then the two had to clean the floor of Treena’s prints before they were permitted to sign out the book.

They left as quickly as they could before finding further trouble or chores, eager to learn what Festrel had been looking for.