The Gray House

Old Man perked up.

“Yes. Exactly. Few days remaining. And she’s scared witless that her grandson is going to do any of that graduating. Because then, by the terms of his late grandfather’s will, the family mansion passes on to him. So, she would either have to live with him under one roof, or go find herself another place, which isn’t that easy at her age.”

He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“I guess those two didn’t get along too well. Or maybe they did at first and then they didn’t anymore. Anyway, Grandpa played a nice dirty trick on his dearly beloved. I’ve seen quite a few people do that. How it’s supposed to make them feel better when they’re dead, I have no idea.”

Ralph poured himself more wine.

“What about the parents?”

“The parents? That’s a sad story right there. Mother killed herself at nineteen. Father—now you see him, now you don’t, no one even knows who he was. Grandma and Grandpa shipped the boys to an orphanage with the mother still alive, right after they were born, and haven’t given a hoot about them since. At least they never tried to find out anything about them once they were here. I mean, I don’t think Grandpa ever did care, except he couldn’t think of another way to get at her.”

“You are a genius,” Ralph said earnestly.

Old Man waved him away. His eyes were shining.

“Everything is actually very simple if you get the right information. And I still have ways of getting it, thankfully.”

They drank some more. Ralph had the sensation of his stomach congealing into a sticky blob. The syrup also messed with his head.

We’re having a Fairy Tale Night,

Ralph thought. Drinking and telling each other scary stories about the Outsides. Me and the former principal. Or rather he’s telling and I’m listening. And I’m already plastered.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him that made him jump.

“Now wait a minute! I still don’t understand . . . She wants to remove Vulture from the House, right? Hoping that it’s going to break him down. All right. But. They told me that they expected me to make that choice. That I was the one to decide who it’s going to be. Which means . . .”

“Which means you got snookered.” Old Man shrugged. “Or did they guess right?”

“No. They didn’t.”

“They’ll talk you into it, then. Dressing it up like that’s what you wanted.”

Ralph felt cold fury flooding him. Trying to stanch this sudden shivering, he hugged his own shoulders, but the cold was spreading from inside. Even a fur coat would not have been enough.

So all this time, while he was fighting his conscience and mulling over the inevitable standoff with Sphinx, the damn hag was angling to throw out Vulture. And he would be her able assistant in that tomorrow, trotting out every last argument against removing Blind that he’d spend the night digging up. All she had to do was agree with him and then put out a counterproposal that he would have no choice but to accept. Because unlike the Fourth, the Third had no one who could take Vulture’s place. The entire pack would just freeze. It was quite possible that in Shark’s mind that would count as a huge victory in his battle to ensure safety at all costs. And the most disgusting part of it all was how well she’d managed to get into his head while sitting on the other side of the House, seemingly absorbed in her own duties and responsibilities. Ralph shuddered at the thought that the old crone had been watching him closely for the last four years and he simply didn’t notice. Him, Vulture, and everyone else for that matter. She’d predicted Ralph’s reactions to a tee, including the show he’d put up of quitting, and had woven them into her plans. There was only one wrinkle she didn’t count on: an equally shrewd old-timer hiding in plain sight right under her nose.

Old Man was insistently pushing a restorative glass of wine at Ralph, getting more and more anxious.

“Don’t get so upset, my boy! Buck up! You look pale. You’ll need all the resolve you’ve got to fight the enemy. Do you hear?”

Ralph realized that he’d better take the glass before he got drenched. He drained it in one gulp and resolutely set it aside.

“I think that’s enough for me for tonight. Or I might just go and bump off someone.”

This statement horrified the former principal.

“No! Never! Violence is never the answer! That would be your undoing!”

“No, you don’t understand. I was not planning to kill her. No way. Revenge is a dish best served surreptitiously.” Ralph got up, realized that his legs weren’t equal to the task, and lowered himself back on the stool. “Did you make this wine yourself?”

Old Man was kicking up such a fuss around him that Ralph felt slightly uneasy.

“My dear old gnome,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’m perfectly all right.”

This somehow failed to calm Old Man. He tripped over the kettle’s electric cord and crashed down on the pile of magazines.