The Chrestomanci Series: Entire Collection Books 1-7. Diana Wynne Jones

height as she was. There was a china Judy standing at the other end of the desk.

      “We can’t get away from these things!” she said.

      The desk was covered in smooth red leather, very easy on the feet, and held a huge white blotter, which was even more comfortable to walk on. A chair with a matching red seat stood in front of the desk. Tonino saw they could easily jump down on to it. Even more easily, they could climb down the handles of the drawers. On the other hand, the piano the maid had dusted stood right beside the desk, and the window was round the corner from the piano. To reach the window was only a long stride from the piano. Though the window was shut, it had quite an easy-looking catch, if only they could reach it.

      “Look!” said Angelica, pointing disgustedly.

      A whole row of Punch and Judys stood along the top of the piano. Two were puppets on stands, very old and valuable by the look of them; two more were actually made of gold; and two others were rather arty clay models, which made Punch look like a leering ordinary man and Judy uncomfortably like the Duchess. And the music which was open on the piano was headed Arnolfini – Punch and Judy Suite.

      “I think this is the Duke’s study,” said Angelica. And both of them got the giggles.

      Still giggling, Tonino stepped on to the piano and started to walk to the window. Do – ti – so – fa, went the piano.

      “Come back!” Angelica laughed.

      Tonino came back – fa – so – ti – do – nearly in hysterics.

      The door of the room opened and someone hurried down the steps. Angelica and Tonino could think of nothing better to do than stand stiffly where they were, hoping to be taken for more Punch and Judys. And, luckily, the man who came in was busy and worried. He slapped a pile of papers on the desk, without so much as glancing at the two new puppets, and hurried out again, gently closing the door behind him.

      “Phew!” said Angelica.

      They walked round to the front of the papers and looked at them curiously. The top one said:

       Report of Campaign at 08.00 hours. Summary:

       Troops advancing on all fronts to repel invasion.

       Heavy Artillery and Reservists moving up in support.

       Pisan front reports heavy losses. Fleet sighted—

       Pisan? – steaming for mouth of Voltava.

      “We’re at war!” said Tonino. “Why?”

      “Because the Duchess has got us, of course,” said Angelica. “And our families daren’t make war-spells. Tonino, we must get out. We must tell them where the words to the Angel are!”

      “But why does the Duchess want Caprona beaten?” Tonino said.

      “I don’t know,” said Angelica. “There’s something wrong about her, I know that. Aunt Bella said there was an awful fuss when the Duke decided to marry her. Nobody likes her.”

      “Let’s see if we can open the window,” said Tonino. He set off along the piano again. Do-ti-so-fa-me-re—

      “Quiet!” said Angelica.

      Tonino discovered that, if he put each foot down very slowly, the notes did not sound. He was halfway along the keyboard, and Angelica had one foot stretched out to follow, when they heard someone opening the door again. There was no time to be careful. Angelica fled back to the desk. Tonino, with a terrible discord, scrambled across the black notes and squeezed behind the music on the stand.

      He was only just in time. When he looked – he was standing with his feet and head sideways, like an Ancient Egyptian – the Duke of Caprona himself was standing in front of the desk. Tonino thought the Duke seemed both puzzled and sad. He was tapping the Report of Campaign against his teeth and did not seem to notice Angelica standing between the Punch and Judy on his desk, although Angelica’s eyes were blinking against the glitter from the Duke’s buttons.

      “But I didn’t declare war!” the Duke said to himself. “I was watching that puppet-show. How could I—?” He sighed and bit the Report worriedly between two rows of big shiny teeth. “Is my mind going?” he asked. He seemed to be talking to Angelica. She had the sense not to answer.

      “I must go and ask Lucrezia,” the Duke said. He flung the Report down at Angelica’s feet and hurried out of the study.

      Tonino slid cautiously down the piano-lid on to the keys again – ker-pling. Angelica was now standing at the end of the piano, pointing at the window. She was speechless with horror.

      Tonino looked – and for a moment he was as frightened as Angelica. There was a brown monster glaring at him through the glass, wide-faced, wide-eyed and shaggy. The thing had eyes like yellow lamps.

      Faintly, through the glass, came a slightly irritable request to pull himself together and open the window.

      “Benvenuto!” shouted Tonino.

      “Oh – it’s only a cat,” Angelica quavered. “How terrible it must feel to be a mouse!”

      “Just a cat!” Tonino said scornfully. “That’s Benvenuto.” He tried to explain to Benvenuto that it was not easy to open windows when you were nine inches high.

      Benvenuto’s impatient answer was to shove Tonino’s latest magic exercise book in front of Tonino’s mind’s eye, open at almost the first page.

      “Oh, thanks,” Tonino said, rather ashamed. There were three opening-spells on that page, and none of them had stuck in his head. He chose the easiest, shut his eyes so that he could read the imaginary page more clearly, and sang the spell.

      Gently and easily, the window swung open, letting in a gust of cold wind. And Benvenuto came in with the wind, almost as lightly. As Benvenuto trod gently up the scale towards him, Tonino had another moment when he knew how mice felt. Then he forgot it in the gladness of seeing Benvenuto. He stretched his arms wide to rub behind Benvenuto’s horny ears.

      Benvenuto put his sticky black nose to Tonino’s face, and they both stood, delighted, holding down a long humming discord on the piano.

      Benvenuto said that Paolo was not quick enough; he could not make him understand where Tonino was. Tonino must send Paolo a message. Could Tonino write this size?

      “There’s a pen on the desk here,” Angelica called. And Tonino remembered her saying she could understand cats.

      Rather anxiously, Benvenuto wanted to know if Tonino minded him talking to a Petrocchi.

      The question astonished Tonino for a moment. He had clean forgotten that he and Angelica were supposed to hate one another. It seemed a waste of time, when they were both in such trouble. “Not at all,” he said.

      “Do get off that piano, both of you,” said Angelica. “The humming’s horrible.”

      Benvenuto obliged, with one great flowing leap. Tonino struggled after him with his elbows hooked over the piano-lid, pushing himself along against the black notes. By the time he reached the desk, Benvenuto and Angelica had exchanged formal introductions, and Benvenuto was advising them not to try getting out of the window. The room was three floors up. The stonework was crumbling, and even a cat had some trouble keeping his feet. If they would wait, Benvenuto would fetch help.

      “But the Duchess—” said Tonino.

      “And the Duke,” said Angelica. “This is the Duke’s study.”

      Benvenuto considered the Duke harmless on his own. He thought they were in the safest place in the Palace. They were to stay hidden and write him a note small enough to carry in his mouth.

      “Wouldn’t it be better if we tied it round your neck?” Angelica asked.

      Benvenuto