"What was that all about?" Zane exclaimed angrily, struggling to his feet.
"You were warned," the portrait sniffed mildly.
"Warned nothing!" James said. "You might've told us that we were about to get tossed to our dooms!"
The portrait clucked its tongue indignantly. "The fall wouldn't have killed you," it said. "The rats might've though. They've become rather an advanced vicious little tribe down there, after living for so many years in a magical castle."
James peered into the darkness beneath the stairs. He fancied he could hear faint scratchings and even the clicking of little teeth.
"Wow," Ralph shuddered. "That is so not right."
With a loud kachunk, the stairsteps suddenly socked back into place, covering the hole.
"Perhaps next time you three will consider abiding by the rules," the portrait commented sternly. "And respecting your elders, painted or otherwise. Now be gone with you before I alert the House President."
That got the boys moving since the last thing they wanted was any entanglements with Professor Remora.
"I can't believe we don't know anyone else in Vampire House," Zane groaned as they made their way toward the cafeteria for lunch. "I mean, let's face it: I'm a loveable guy. Everybody gets along with me."
"Maybe we should just try to follow Magnussen into the past without knowing what the dimensional key is," James offered consideringly. "Perhaps if we just hang back and watch him, we'll be able to figure it out, right?"
"Maybe," Ralph said, shrugging. "But I'd sure hate to get that bit wrong. We only get one chance. Rose says that time travel is really tetchy that way."
"What do you mean," Zane asked as they pulled open the doors to Administration Hall, following a gaggle of older students toward the cafeteria. "I don't think I was there for that conversation. Not that I don't love Rose's hectoring predictions about all the ways we might destroy the fabric of the universe and all."
James sighed. "She says it's the reason why Time-Turners have been outlawed. Technomancy guys like Jackson have discovered that it's super dangerous for one person to occupy the same timeframe more than once. Something about identical matter accidentally coming together and causing 'catastrophic pluralities' or something quantum like that. Bottom line is that if we don't capture Magnussen's dimensional key the first time out, we won't have another chance without potentially causing way more trouble than we hope to prevent."
"So how sure are you that we really have to do this anyway?" Ralph asked, getting in line and grabbing a tray. "You still think the real bad guys are hiding out in the World Between the Worlds?"
"No doubt in my mind," James replied, with a little more conviction than he actually felt. "That missing crimson thread is far too powerful to just disappear without a trace. If it was in our world, somebody somewhere would have sensed its trail. The only place it could possibly be hidden is outside of our dimension. It just makes sense."
"Well then, I guess we're back to square one," Zane said, grabbing two bowls of green pudding and cramming them onto his already filled tray. "To get into the World Between the Worlds, we need to get Magnussen's dimensional key, which means we need to somehow get into Erebus Castle so we can figure out the riddle of what the key actually is." He sighed briskly. "Maybe we should just hex Ralph's teeth into points and try to pass him off as Count Ralphula the Impaler. What do you say, Ralphinator? Worth a shot?"
"Don't even start," Ralph said, shaking his head.
The boys found a place at one of the long tables, cramming in across from Wentworth, who was distracted by a series of fussy sneezes.
"What's with you, Went?" James asked, poking at his stew with a fork.
"Garlic," Wentworth replied, wiping his nose. "It's my special diet. I'm not even eating the stuff, but I can still smell it in everyone else's lunch. Breaks me all out."
Zane stirred his own bowl. "Yeah, this stuff's pretty heavy with it. Too bad for you, Went. It's yum in the tum."
Wentworth sniffled. "Yeah, well, you all could show a little more sensitivity. I can't help being this way, you know. It's in my genes, all the way back to what my parents call 'the old country'." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. James watched as the smaller boy reached for a large stoneware mug. Wentworth pinched his nose and drank from it carefully.
"Just out of curiosity," Zane suddenly said, frowning at Wentworth, "where, exactly, is 'the old country'?"
Wentworth peered over his mug at Zane a little warily. "Somewhere in Europe," he answered. "A little region in Romania, if you must know."
"Really," Zane said, still frowning. "Does it start with a 'T', maybe?"
"I'm not supposed to talk about it," Wentworth announced, lowering his mug but holding it near his chest. "My mother says we're not like that anymore. She says the less we talk about it, the better."
"What're you drinking there, Went?" James asked, peering over the table.
"It's nothing," Went said. "It's for my special diet. It's not like I want to drink it, you know. Ten ounces a day is all."
"Is that tomato juice?" Ralph said, using his height to peek into Wentworth's mug. "Looks… too dark, somehow."
"It's juice!" Wentworth proclaimed, covering the cup with his hand. "Er, kind of. That's all you need to know! What?"
Zane glanced from Ralph to James. "Wentworth, do me a little favor," he said smoothly, realization dawning on his suddenly crafty face. "Give 'ums one of those big 'old world' smiles, eh?"
"Yeah, Went," James added curiously. "Let's see those teeth."
"Coming through!" Zane called out, pushing Wentworth through the front door of Erebus Mansion like a boy-sized battering ram. "Vampire here! You have to let us in!"
"Stop," Wentworth insisted, blushing furiously. "Nobody is supposed to know!"
"It's all right," James soothed, following close behind. "You're among your fellow 'creatures of the night' here."
"What's going on?" a tall boy demanded in an imperious voice, moving to block the four intruders in the foyer. "You can't just barge in here. This is for Vampire House members and their guests only."
"And real-life vampires," Zane added, patting Wentworth on the top of his head. "Says so in your house charter. 'Any roaming vampires seeking asylum or succor are welcome within these halls.' I looked it up to be sure. I thought the word 'succor' was a nice play on words. That's got Remora written all over it, doesn't it?"