Amanda Lester and the Purple Rainbow Puzzle Read online

  Unfortunately there wasn’t time to worry about guitars. Amanda raced back to the front entrance where Simon, Ivy, Nigel, and Fern were waiting, and they got into Fern’s Fiesta. Amanda hadn’t spent much time around Ivy’s sister but she could spot her a mile off because she had the same copper hair as Ivy. Although she was seventeen, she was very tiny—barely taller than Ivy, but just as pretty. Both girls had sparkling green eyes, although Ivy usually hid hers behind sunglasses. Fern was specializing in textual analysis, and when Professor Pickle had gone to jail she’d nearly fallen to pieces. He had been her advisor and mentor and she hadn’t known what to do without him.

  When they’d got rolling Fern said, “Where do you think these zombies are coming from? Nigel, please don’t get nose marks on the window.”

  “He can’t help it,” said Ivy.

  “Well, here,” she said, holding out a tissue. “At least wipe them off.” Amanda took it and cleaned off the marks, but she soon realized that the exercise was futile. As soon as she cleaned one mark, Nigel would just smear on another.

  “Hard to say,” said Simon. “They might just be homeless people.”

  “Amphora sure didn’t think so,” said Amanda. “And don’t say it.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything,” said Simon. “My guess is still that there’s a film shoot.”

  “All over the place?” said Ivy.

  “It does happen,” said Amanda. “But you’d think we’d know about it. At home they always put up these yellow and black signs to direct the crew where to go. There has to be an indication somewhere. Besides, we would have heard the gossip. Film production is always a moneymaker for the locals. People would be talking.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” said Ivy.

  Yup. Legatum should offer business classes.

  When they arrived at Penrith they decided to reconnoiter for a few minutes, then start asking people if they’d seen anything strange. They were hoping they’d find zombies right away, which would mean they wouldn’t have to draw attention to themselves. However after ten or fifteen minutes they’d seen nothing but the usual small town activity so they split up, with Simon and Ivy taking one shop and Fern and Amanda another.

  “Uh, hello,” said Amanda to the clerk at the newsagent’s.

  “Hullo,” said the spotty young man. He reminded Amanda of the guy who worked at the ice cream store back home in Calabasas—the one who wouldn’t let her start a tab when she was hungry and had no money with her.

  She hesitated. She didn’t want to just come out with, “Seen any zombies lately?” What should she say?

  “We’re ghost hunters,” said Fern before she could decide. Amanda was shocked. Fern had done almost exactly what she thought was a bad idea.

  “Do tell,” said the kid. “Aren’t yew a little young for that?” He spoke in a faint Scottish brogue. Amanda thought he was easier to understand than Professor McTavish, and way clearer than Mr. Onion.

  “We’re prodigies,” said Fern, causing the kid to eye her suspiciously. “We’ve heard that there are a lot of haunted places around here.”

  “We don’t want no prodigies around here,” he said.

  “We’re licensed,” said Fern, pulling out her British Museum membership card. She waved it in front of his face, then quickly stuck it back in her bag.

  “Ten quid,” he said.

  Amanda and Fern looked at each other. Was he asking for a bribe?

  “Five,” said Fern almost before he’d finished.

  The kid didn’t flinch. “Eight.”

  “Six.”

  “Six and fifty.” They were in a rhythm now. Amanda wondered how long it would go on.

  “Deal,” said Fern, ending the exchange.

  “Pay in advance,” said the kid.

  Shaking her head, Fern dug in her purse and gave the kid six pounds and fifty pence. “This had better be good,” she said.

  He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Myrddin’s Wand.”

  “Myrddin’s Wand?” said Amanda. “What’s that?”

  “Myrddin is Merlin,” said Fern. “Merlin’s wand? What about it?”

  “It’s a wee village four miles from here,” said the kid. “Stone circles. Haunted.”

  “What kind of haunted?” said Fern.

  “Ah, that’s for yew to find out, innit,” said the kid.

  “Coordinates?” said Fern.

  “Here,” said the kid, tearing out a page from a copy of Creepy Cumbria magazine and scribbling on it. “There’s a bit of a village there. No gift shops, though.”

  “We’re not interested in gift shops,” said Fern.

  “Well, there ain’t none.”

  “Any zombies?” said Amanda, throwing caution to the wind. The kid already thought they were weird.

  “Who’s askin’?”

  Fern eyed the boy. “I am Morgan le Fey, and this is Rapunzel Silverstein.”

  “You from London?” he said eyeing her suspiciously. Then he looked at Amanda. “You’re one of them Americans.”

  “No, I’m from Dorset,” said Fern. “My cousin is Canadian.”

  “Hm,” said the kid. “Tell you what. You buy me a pizza and I’ll tell you about zombies.”

  Amanda was getting so impatient she wanted to scream. Now they were supposed to run off and find this jerk a pizza? What if none of his information paid off? She let out a huge sigh.

  Fern, however, seemed unperturbed and said, “Where can we get pizza?”

  The kid nodded toward the street. “Block down. Saccamano’s. Best pizza in Cumbria.”

  “Hold that thought,” said Fern, grabbing Amanda and dashing out of the shop.

  “What an idiot,” said Amanda.

  “Yes, but he’s got to know something. If there’s anything weird going on around here the locals will know.” But will they tell? People in small towns could be secretive, or so Amanda had heard. She’d never actually lived in one, unless you counted Windermere, but that was different. She didn’t actually know anyone there except Eustace.

  On the way to Saccamano’s, they ran into Simon and Ivy.

  “Got it,” said Simon proudly.

  “Zombies?” said Amanda.

  “Yes,” said Ivy. “A man in the chemist’s told us that they’ve been seen around Myrddin’s Wand. There’s a stone circle there.”

  “Myrddin’s Wand?” said Amanda. “That’s what we heard too. You’re sure he was talking about zombies, though. Not ghosts?”

  “Zombies,” said Ivy.

  “So we don’t have to get pizza,” said Amanda with relief.

  “Pizza?” said Simon. “I could go for some pizza. Here’s a place right here.”

  Amanda looked at Fern. “I don’t think we have to worry about Mr. Six and a Half Quid anymore,” said Fern. “Their story confirms what he said. Let’s eat and get out of here.”

  When they arrived at Myrddin’s Wand, which was a small Iron Age formation of six stones, they saw three more rainbows.

  “This is getting really weird,” said Amanda. “He’s here too?” The hacker was definitely getting around. His ubiquity was unsettling.

  “They’re all messed up again,” said Simon.

  “What are you talking about?” said Fern.

  “We think someone is messing around with rainbows,” said Amanda.

  “Define ‘messing around,’” said Fern.

  The kids described what they had seen and presented their theories about a super hacker who could manipulate matter.

  “Pish tosh,” said Fern. “That’s impossible.”

  “Look at those rainbows,” said Simon, pointing up and squinting. “So are they.”

  Fern peered up at the sky. “Hm, the colors do seem to be out of order. But I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation.”

  “Nope,” said Simon. “We checked.”

  “Atmospheric conditions?” said Fern.

  “What, like none ever seen before?” said Simon.

  “W
ell, there is global warming now,” said Fern.

  “Not if I can help it,” said Simon.

  “What—the tilt thing again?” said Amanda. “Come on, Simon.”

  “They laughed at Galileo too,” he said.

  “I don’t think you’re exactly Galileo.” Good thing, too, considering what happened to him. The father of modern science had been investigated by the Inquisition and spent a large part of his life under house arrest.

  “What’s this about a tilt?” said Fern.

  “Oh, Simon thinks he can fix global warming by altering the tilt of the earth,” said Ivy.

  “Really?” said Fern. She looked Simon up and down, then smiled. “What an interesting idea. You’re not making these rainbows then, are you?”

  Amanda was absolutely sure that Fern was teasing, but her expression was so serious it was disconcerting. She must be quite an actor.

  “Nope, not me,” said Simon. He lowered his voice, although no one was around. “It’s the hacker.”

  “What hacker?” said Fern.

  “You’ve really had your head in that text stuff, haven’t you?” said Ivy.

  “Of course,” said Fern. “That’s why I’m at Legatum for the summer instead of surfing in California.” She giggled. There was no way Fern would go near a surfboard. The only way you’d get her onto one would be if it had Shakespeare’s plays inscribed on it. “I’m working on those letters in the sparkling feather case—the one where that man left a glittery feather at each crime scene. Well, I say man, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. Only ninety-nine.”

  “You surf?” said Simon.

  “She doesn’t,” said Ivy.

  “Oh, having me on, then,” said Simon.

  “That she’s good at,” said Ivy proudly.

  “This hacker,” said Fern. “You’re not implying—”

  “We are,” said Ivy. “We think he—she—is manipulating matter.”

  “No,” said Fern. “That isn’t possible.”

  “But Simon changing the tilt of the earth is?” said Ivy.

  Fern winked, but of course Ivy couldn’t see it.

  “Say, what’s that?” said Amanda, looking toward the tiny village of Myrddin’s Wand.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Fern.

  “No, it is him,” said Amanda. “It’s my cousin Jeffrey. He just went into that church. Despina and Hill must be in there. Come on.”

  19

  Through the Sarcophagus

  Why Amanda suddenly wanted to see her cousins she couldn’t fathom. Perhaps it was simply the excitement of recognizing familiar faces in a strange place. Forgetting how annoying they could be (even though she loved them, or at least Despina and Hill), she ran toward the tiny village church with the others following.

  As the group entered the dark space, the front door creaked. Inside, the church looked disused. The wood was old and split and the place smelled musty. It took a moment for Amanda’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when they did she was surprised. Jeffrey was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where did he go?” she said.

  “Maybe he’s in the back,” said Fern.

  The group crept toward the rear of the church. The old building was deathly silent and their footsteps echoed. Thick dust obscured the wood of the pews, but Amanda could see initials carved in them here and there. Perhaps the place had once been popular. Now it seemed a relic.

  “Why are we being so quiet?” she whispered, then sneezed, an act that seemed to give the others permission to do so as well. Within seconds everyone was sneezing, even Nigel.

  “We don’t want to alert the zombies,” said Ivy, foraging in her bag for a tissue. Achoo.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” said Amanda in her regular voice. “There aren’t really any zombies.” Sneeze.

  At the far end of the church was a closed green door that seemed to have been painted more recently than the one at the front. Perhaps someone was using the back room.

  “You open it, Simon,” said Amanda. Sneeze.

  “Be careful,” said Ivy. Snuffle. “Here, Amanda, take a tissue.” She held out a pack of the things. Amanda took two.

  Simon grabbed the handle, gave it a good yank, and pushed the door wide open. Then he sneezed—twice.

  “Oh, yuck, Simon,” said Ivy. “I can hear what you’re doing. Please take one of these.”

  She held out the tissue pack. Simon eyed it suspiciously.

  “Simon!” she said.

  “Oh, all right,” he said. “Give it here.”

  Ivy passed the pack to him and he pulled, causing a handful of tissues to fall onto the floor.

  “Drat,” he said, reaching down to retrieve the misbehaving tissues. He looked around, seemed to decide that there was nowhere to throw them, and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he took two more out of the pack and passed it back to Ivy.

  “I don’t see what the problem is,” she said. “They’re just tissues.”

  “It’s a guy thing,” said Amanda.

  She stuck her head through the doorway. There in front of them was an ancient stone sarcophagus with its top moved aside. The way the cover was balanced on the walls made Amanda nervous. The thing must weigh tons. If it fell there was no way they could put it back, even with all of them lifting.

  “You don’t think he went in there?” said Fern.

  “What is it?” said Ivy.

  “An old sarcophagus—open,” said Simon.

  Amanda tiptoed toward the thing, climbed up on the base, and peered in. Simon heaved himself up on top of the structure and looked down.

  “What do you see?” said Fern.

  “Stairs,” said Amanda.

  “Stairs?” said Fern. “In a sarcophagus?”

  “I don’t think it’s really a sarcophagus,” said Amanda. “No one is buried in here.”

  “Well what is it then?” said Fern.

  “Let’s find out,” said Simon.

  “Ivy, do you hear anything?” said Amanda as the group prepared to climb down into the space below the sarcophagus.

  “Not a thing,” said Ivy.

  “Me either. That’s weird. If Jeffrey went down there, he couldn’t have got far.”

  “You don’t suppose he’s fallen and hit his head, do you?” said Fern.

  “If so, we’d better find him fast,” said Amanda. She shined her light into the cavity. “Hm, nothing much to see. Simon, do you see anything? I’m going to text Despina. She probably knows what’s going on.”

  Simon perched himself on the edge of the opening and leaned in as far as he could without falling.

  “Nope,” he said. “Just stairs.”

  “I’m surprised that Wink Wiffle was so creative,” said Ivy out of nowhere.

  “What brought that on?” said Amanda.

  “I was just thinking,” said Ivy. “He painted all those pictures. From what you tell me he was very talented. David isn’t like that.”

  “No,” said Amanda. “Obviously he doesn’t take after his father. Or his mother, for that matter. She’s a designer.” And a lunatic.

  “Well, what happened to him?” said Ivy.

  “Twenty p,” said Simon.

  “What?” said Ivy tilting her head in Simon’s direction. “I wasn’t arguing.”

  “You said something nasty about someone,” said Simon.

  “I don’t think that qualifies,” said Ivy. “I was just observing. Anyway, David isn’t part of the deal.”

  “We’d make a fortune if he were,” said Amanda.

  “Would you guys stop talking about stuff I don’t know about?” said Fern. She looked at the opening anxiously. She was obviously keen to see what lay beyond.

  “Oh, sorry,” said Ivy. “We’re talking about David Wiffle.”

  “That little kid?” said Fern. “Everyone knows about him. He’s infamous.” She peered into the darkness below. “I don’t see anything down there.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” said Ivy. “Poor David.�
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  “We’re not all like our parents,” said Amanda. “I’m not.” Not at all, and thank goodness. She made her way to the other side of the sarcophagus and accidentally bumped the cover. Fortunately it didn’t budge or it might have fallen. “Ow.”

  “I am,” said Simon. He joined Amanda on the far side of the sarcophagus and pushed on the top. It didn’t move. He pushed harder. Still nothing. Then he gave it all he had. Still nothing.

  “Why are you doing that, Simon?” said Fern.

  “Just checking.”

  “And what would you do if it fell off?” she said.

  “Run,” he said.

  “I thought your parents were dentists,” said Amanda.

  “You’re getting me confused with Hermione Granger,” said Simon. “My parents are scientists. My dad is a physicist and my mum is an astronomer.”

  “So that’s why you’re trying to see how much that cover weighs,” said Fern. “You’re obviously like them.”

  “Pretty much,” said Simon. “My brother too. I’m not just trying to see how much it weighs. I want to figure out the amount of force required to move it.”

  “How old is your brother?” said Fern. “Why do you want to know that?”

  “Eight,” said Simon. “He’s really into dinosaurs.” Amanda tried to picture a smaller version of Simon. Those poor parents. “I want to know how many people it would take to move the cover. I don’t see how Jeffrey could have done that alone.”

  “So he goes on digs, then?” said Fern.

  “Jeffrey? I have no idea.”

  “Not Jeffrey,” said Fern. “Your brother.”

  “Oh, right. He’d like to,” said Simon. “So would I.”

  “We go on digs,” said Ivy. “You should come with us sometime.” She seemed to have forgotten her irritation with him. Simon was like that. One minute he made you mad and the next you were buds again.

  “You do?” said Amanda, testing the cover herself. If Simon couldn’t move it she didn’t see how she could, but she felt compelled to push anyway. Amphora would have worried. She’d think Simon had loosened it and all you’d have to do was blow on it. “I thought your dad was a professor.”