“Vampires are all around the lake,” he said. They’d gathered in an old study in what was now-nicknamed New Aubrey House. The sound of thumping and hammering echoed through the building. They had passed countless students on the way in, and Alex had been happy to see them carrying chairs and bedding from the trucks that were parked all over the lawn. Otranto had set up a small office, a central nervous system for the house, and was running everything from there. A sign-up sheet near Otranto’s office door, posted next to a desk already inhabited by his assistant, Mrs. Hostache, informed Alex and his roommates that they would be on duty painting and sweeping the next day. “The sign-up sheet seems to have a mind of its own,” Paul observed. So this was the new reality. Alex had only the faintest inkling of what an undertaking it must be, what kind of money had to change hands and what armies of lawyers had to be called in for two schools to merge so quickly. He had the impression, amid the crates and trucks, of Headmaster Otranto stretching to hold a school together with his bare hands.
