Chapter 2: Execution

Charlie Bone was running late. It was Monday morning, which meant that he had to wake up early and rush off to the confines of Bloor's Academy. He despised it, for there was no way he could communicate with his family, or for that matter, "the outside world". He was silent during breakfast, a grand feast prepared by Maisie. It was especially unbearable this morning, for this was the beginning of the school year.

"There, love," Maisie crooned as she ran her fingers through his bushy hair, "this should make up for all those meals you'll have to eat at Bloor's."

"Thanks, Maisie," Charlie replied. He made quick work of his portion, and sprinted up the street to the bus stop. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend, Fidelio Gunn, rushing up to meet him.

"Hey, Charlie!" called Fidelio, waving frantically. "Talk about being just in time." The blue bus had pulled up the moment of Fidelio's arrival.

"Yeah, great timing, Fido," Charlie agreed as the filed into the bus. Fidelio glanced around. "Billy's not with you?" he asked. Charlie shook his head. "He decided he'd rather stay at the academy this weekend, but who in their right mind…" He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders, implying that Fidelio could draw his own conclusion.

And so they set off for Bloor's.

Charlie and Fidelio met up with Tancred and Lysander as they arrived at Bloor's. "Hey Sander, Tanc," Charlie called. They waved in response.

"What's up, Charlie? Hey, Fido," Tancred responded, running his fingers through his gelled blonde spikes. Next to him, Lysander rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

Charlie paused, thoughtfully. "Nothing, actually," he said at last. "Have you noticed? My aunts haven't been scheming, and I haven't caught Manfred or Dagbert out of line since the Asa Pike escapade."

Lysander stepped forth. "You're right," he agreed. "Do you think they've changed, or is something up?" Fidelio chuckled lightly. "Knowing the Bloors, something is definitely up," was his opinion.

Their conversation was interrupted as Gabriel and Olivia, waving fervently, made their way up to the group. "Hey, Charlie," Olivia greeted him breathlessly. "What courses are you taking this year?"

Charlie shrugged carelessly. "Recorder, again," he responded. "Mr. Paltry had a fit, but he was the one who said I could use another year of it." A collective giggle rose from the group. Charlie turned on Gabriel. "How 'bout you, Gabe?"

The features of Gabriel's face sagged. "Piano," he replied. "I wish your father would return from whale-watching, though…they've found another new teacher and you remember the last one…" Everyone shuddered. The most recent substitute had been Tantalus Ebony, or Yorlath Yewbeam in disguise.

"Come on, Gabe," Charlie said, "I think the Bloors are out of shapeshifters by now."

Gabriel shrugged in response as the warning bell rang. "Well," he said, "I'd better go now. I happen to have piano right now." With that, he turned and made his way down the hall.

"Hello?" Gabriel opened the door cautiously. He glanced around the room (it was a strange place to have a room; in the highest tower-a very remote place far, far from the rest of the school). Situated in the middle of the room was a large grand piano, shining radiantly. And seated at the piano was a strange, veiled figure. A woman. She was wrapped in robes and veils and sashes.

"Hello, boy," the figure rasped, raising a bony hand. "Come closer." Gabriel obliged, advancing tentatively. He though it very odd that his new teacher would have such a delicate, swirly sort of hand. It didn't look capable of working the piano keys. As he approached the bench, the figure sprung into action. With surprising strength, the figure grabbed Gabriel's elbow and twisted it behind his back. Before he had the time to react, another hand was clamped fiercely over his mouth. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed too late the deadly red boots. Aunt Venetia. Gabriel's mind reeled. He was helpless as he felt a blue cape being clasped around his neck. Aunt Venetia released him, and gasping in a mix of relief and horror, Gabriel's fingers flew to the buttons. He struggled desperately to unfasten them, but even he knew it was too late. Gabriel crumbled to the ground, blinded and immobile.

As he blacked out, he caught fragments of an overhead conversation.

"Great job, Venetia! Should we lock him up the Ruin?"

"Don't be silly, Eustacia…the cape's bewitched, remember? He won't be going anywhere for a long, long time…"