There was a knowing look in his eye. For some reason, Oliver wondered if Armando knew something about him, about his freakish powers, his visions and what they meant. But Oliver quickly pushed those thoughts away. Of course he didnt. There was nothing magical about Armando. He was just an old inventor in a strange factory, not a magician or wizard or anything like that.

Suddenly overcome with fatigue, Oliver had nothing left in him to even ponder. The storm, the days of stress from the move and starting a new school, the lack of sufficient food, it was all suddenly too much for him to handle.

Okay, he conceded. But itll just be a quick nap.

Of course, Armando replied.

Oliver stood, rubbing his weary eyes. Armando used his walking stick to help lift his frail body to standing.

Along here, Armando said, gesturing down the narrow, dimly lit corridor.

Oliver let Armando lead the way, trudging wearily along behind him. His body felt very heavy now, as though hed been holding in so much stress and unhappiness and was only now aware.

At the end of the corridor stood an odd wooden door that was lower than a normal door and curved at the top like it belonged in a chapel. There was even a little window in it, framed with burnished iron.

Armando opened the door and ushered Oliver inside. Oliver felt a sense of nervous anticipation as he stepped over the threshold.

The room was bigger than hed been expecting, and much neater considering the state of the kitchen. There was a large bed covered in a soft, white duvet and matching pillows, with an extra woolen blanket folded at the end of it. There was a wooden desk covered in small war figurines, beneath a window with long blue curtains. In one corner of the room was a fabric-covered chair, next to a bookshelf crammed with exciting-looking adventure stories.

It looked, in every way, like the kind of bedroom an eleven-year-old boy like Oliver ought to have, rather than an alcove in the cold, shadowy corner of an unfurnished living room. He felt a sudden surge of grief for his life. But stronger than that was the gratitude he felt for this sudden opportunity to escape it all, even if it was only for a few hours.

Oliver looked over his shoulder at Armando. This is a very nice room, he said. Are you sure you dont mind me staying in here?

He became very aware then of his sodden clothes and the muck he must have trailed into Armandos factory. But rather than chastise or berate himlike his parents had yesterday with his soggy sweaterArmando just smiled a knowing smile.

I hope you sleep well and feel rested when you wake, he said. Then he turned and left the room.