‘What about the Ovens?’ asked Leo, but neither of the twins knew any more than Leo did about the Ovens, except that the grown-ups talked about them a lot and always seemed frightened of them.
A register was called, as it was in school, and they had to answer to their names, then go down some crumbly stairs to a long dark room under the church. Leo would have liked to stay in the real church and look round – there were carved bits of stones and beautiful tall windows with sparkly colours in them – but it seemed there was no time to do that, and anyway it was all in shadow and they must not put on any lights. Sophie and Susannah did not think there were any lights, on account of it being an old, old church where hardly anyone ever went.
The room under the church was cold and there were huge stone boxes with carvings on them, and stone figures lying on their lids. It smelled damp and musty, and the twins put their scarves over their mouths so they would not have to breathe in the smell.
‘Dead people,’ said Sophie. ‘But a long time ago.’
But then Leo’s mother, who was dreadfully pale, brought them all hot soup, and after that they did not notice the smell, and drinking soup in the middle of the night inside a church seemed part of the adventure.
They sat on the ground, on blankets and cushions, and waited to see what would happen next. Leo’s mother gave him a small canvas bag which, when he looked inside, he found had his best sweater, pyjamas, socks, toothbrush, and some pieces of jewellery and a silver box that had belonged to his grandmother. He had only the haziest memories of her, but he knew she was one of the people who had vanished, along with his grandfather. His mother had never talked about them, but once Leo had found her sitting on her bed, clutching their photographs and sobbing.
She was not exactly sobbing now, but her face had a white, hurt look. She hugged him and said he was to be a good and brave boy, to do whatever was asked of him, and to never forget that they loved him very much and always would. His father gave him a small package – something wrapped in layers of cloth. Leo unwrapped a bit of the cloth and saw it was one of the silver golems from the synagogue. He looked questioningly at his father, because the two golems at the synagogue were special things, even a bit magical, and no one was ever allowed to touch them.
‘Keep it safe and it will protect you,’ said Leo’s father, and although he was not exactly crying, his eyes were shiny and his voice was husky as if he might be getting a sore throat.
It was Sophie who suddenly sat up and looked towards the crumbly stairs as if she had heard something. Susannah looked as well, at exactly the same moment. They’ve heard something, thought Leo, his heart starting to thump. Or they’ve felt that something’s about to happen. Whatever it is, it isn’t good. As this thought formed, Sophie looked across at him, and shook her head. No, it isn’t good.
Moments later, Leo heard marching feet, and voices sounding sharp and angry, calling out. The grown-ups made signs to the children to be very quiet. ‘Like a game,’ said one of them, softly, but Leo thought they all knew it was not a game. He whispered to his father to ask if it was something to do with the Ovens, and his father looked at him in a startled way, then said, very quietly, ‘Pray it is not.’ The twins’ mother said something about the Angel of Death, and her face twisted as if she was going to cry. But she did not; she put her arms round Sophie and Susannah and hugged them very tightly to her.