smiled. âLetâs see what treasures this room holds.â
She browsed the books with great delight before admiring the library itself.
âDo you know the symbolism behind that?â she asked, pointing at an ornate painted carving above the fireplace. It was of three women around an old-fashioned spinning wheel. Alfie shook his head.
âThose are the Fates, three mythological sisters. The Greeks believed that they mapped out our lives at birth and decided how good or fortunate someone would be. Clotho, the youngest, is spinning the thread of life. She decides how happy a life will be. Her sister, Lachesis, is measuring it to decide how long the person will live. The oldest woman is Atropos. She cuts the thread when it is time to die.â
Alfie stared, transfixed by the sisters as Miss Reynard spoke.
âThe Greek philosopher Philostratus said that if the Fates decreed someone would win a race at the Olympic Games, then they would win even with a broken leg. If a man was destined to become a great archer, he would never miss his target even if he lost his eyesight.â
Madeleine looked thoughtful. âSo if I was destined to fail my exams, thereâs no way I could ever pass, no matter how hard I work?â she said with a smile. âIt would be pointless trying, really.â
âHmm ⦠well, as we canât talk to these ladies, thereâs no way of knowing if you are destined to fail maths,â said Miss Reynard, âso donât even think of not studying.â
Alfie shot a last look at the Fates and gave an involuntary shiver as he headed back to the party. The thought of an entire lifetime mapped out and unchangeable was terrifying.
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Alfieâs dad spent a lot of time in his workshop over the next few weeks. Alfie noticed how much happier he seemed being free to work on his devices every day, but couldnât help feeling a little sad they werenât spending as much time together as they had since the letter from Muninn and Bone. At least Ashford was enforcing the rule that he ate regular meals with Alfie in the Great Hall, and he was even starting to put on weight. Alfie had insisted that the butler eat his evening meal with them, and they clustered around one end of the huge table each evening. Ashford had warmed up considerably. But while he seemed incredibly interested in every aspect of their lives, he answered very little about himself.
âIâm far too boring a subject for dinner conversation,â he announced when Alfie asked where he was from. âYouâd fall asleep in your mashed potatoes. Now, tell me all about your last school. What were your favourite subjects?â
One day a little parcel covered in stamps arrived from Amy, who was still touring Asia with her gran. It contained a wooden beaded bracelet and a tiny waistcoat. The letter informed him that the bracelet was from a temple in Beijing and the waistcoat was a gift for Galileo from a cat café they had visited in Hong Kong. It cost him more than a few scratches to wrestle Galileo into the waistcoat so that he could take a picture for Amy â the cat did not seem at all impressed with his gift. Amy had also enclosed some photos of their travels. His favourite was of her clambering over gigantic tree roots that sprawled over a temple she had visited in Thailand. At the bottom she had written, I think this is what Gran meant when she said she wants me to discover my roots . He laughed as he stuck the picture on his wardrobe door. He wished Amy wasnât away for the whole summer, as he was dying to talk to her about the castle and his dadâs revelations.
After dreading a long boring summer alone in the city, Alfie found himself with barely a free minute in Hexbridge. He spent as much time at the farm as the castle, where Uncle Herb set him to work with the twins. His days were filled with stacking hay bales, collecting eggs and fixing fences.
One sunny afternoon