his own magic. Or at least he had something that had power, even if he didn’t know what it really was or how to use it.
The Key.
Arthur touched the door with the point of the minute hand and shouted, “Open!” There was a flash of white light, a sudden heat upon his face, then the twin leaves of the door flung open and a new alarm joined the cacophonous wail. Arthur ran out on to the fire stairs and jumped down the first two steps. Then he suddenly stopped, whirled and jumped back. He had to close the doors behind him or the Fetchers would catch him for sure. But he had wasted a precious second – could he do it in time?
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