Chapter 2

The family cemetery sat at the bottom of the hill from the mansion. Eric thought it was kind of stupid they'd hired a hearse to carry Alexander a hundred yards down the driveway. They could've put wheels on the coffin like they have on the suitcases and that would've worked just as well.

Summer storm clouds rumbled overhead. The family mansion looked dark and gloomy on its hill, like a lord's castle. Eric loved the place, with its billion rooms and chimneys and stained glass windows.

He loved the family graveyard even more. A dozen crumbling tombstones spread out across a green meadow ringed in tress, right next to a little creek. Some of the stones were so old the writings had faded away. Alexander used to take Anna and him down to the meadow on their weekend visits. Alexander and Anna would spend the afternoon on a picnic blanket, reading and talking, while Eric explored the graves and the woods and the creek.

Stop that, Eric told himself. You're getting sentimental.

"So many people," Anna murmured, as they walked down the driveway. "You're not going to freak out, are you?"

Anna fiddled with the collar of her dress. "I'm -- I'm not freaking out. I just -- "

"You hate crowds," he finished. "But you knew there'd be a crowd. They come every year."

Each winter, as long as Eric could remember, Alexander had invited relatives from all over the world for a week long holiday. The mansion filled up with Chines Churchills and British Churchills and South African Churchills and Venezuela Churchills. Most of them didn't go by the name Churchill, but Alexander assured him they were all related. He'd explain about cousins and second cousins and cousins three times removed until Eric's brain started to hurt. Anna would usually go hide in the library with the cat.

"I know," she said. "But ... I mean, look at them all."

She had a point. About four hundred people were gathering at the grave site. "They just want her fortune," Eric decided. "Eric!"

"Well? It's true."

They had just joined the procession when Eric suddenly got flipped upside down.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Look, guys," a girl said. "We caught a rat!"

Eric wasn't in a good position to see, but he could make out the Colt sisters -- Marina and Reyna -- standing on either side of him, holding him by his ankles. The twins had matching purple running suits, blond pigtails, and crooked smiles. They were only eleven, same as Eric, but they had no trouble holding him. Eric saw more purple running suits behind them -- the rest of the Colt family, Their pit bull, Ralf, race around their legs and barked. (but sounds like ralf. hence his name)

"Let's fling him into the creek," Marina said. "I wanna fling him into the bushes!" Reyna said. "We never do my ideas!"

Their older brother, Hilton, laughed like an idiot. Next to him, their dad, Howard Colt, and their mom, Maria-Todd, grinned like this was all good fun. "Now, girls," Howard said. "We can't go flinging people at the funeral. This is a happy occasion!"

"Anna!" Eric called. "A little help here?" Her face had gone pale. She mumbled, "Dr-dr-drop ... " Eric sighted in exasperation. "She's trying to say 'DROP ME!" Marina and Reyna did -- on his head.

"Ow!" Eric said.

"M-M-Marina!" Anna protested.

"Y-y-yes?" Marina mimicked. "I think all those books are turning your brain to mush, weirdo."

If it had been any body else, Eric would've hit back, but he knew better with Colts. Even Marina and Reyna, the youngest, could cream him. The whole Colt family was way too buff. They had meaty hands and thick necks and faces that looked like G.I. Joe figures.

Even the mom looked like she could be shaving and chewing on a cigar. "I hope you losers took a good last look around the house," Marina said. "You're not going to be invited back here anymore, now that the old monster is dead."

"Ralf!" said Ralf the pit bull.

Eric looked around for Ellis, but as usual she wasn't anywhere near them. She'd drifted off to talk the other old people.

"Alexander wasn't a monster," Eric said. "And we're going to inherit this place!"

The big brother, Hilton, laughed. "Yeah, right." His hair was combed toward the middle so it stuck up like a shark fin. "Wait till they read the will, runt. I'm gonna kick you out myself!"

"All right, team," the dad said. "Enough of this. Formation!"

The family lined up and started jogging toward the grave site, knocking other relatives out of their way as Ralf snapped at everyone's heels. "Is your head okay?" Anna asked guiltily.

Eric nodded. He was a little annoyed Anna hadn't helped him, but there was no point complaining about it. She always got tongue-tied around other people. "Man, i hate the Colts."

"We've got worse problems." Anna pointed toward the grave site, and Eric heart sank. "The Krums," he muttered.

Ian and Natalia Krum were standing by Alexander's coffin, looking like perfect little angels as they talked to the preacher. They wore matching designer mourning outfits that complimented their silky black hair and cinnamon-colored skin. They could've been child supermodels.

"They won't try anything during the funeral," Eric said hopefully. "They're just here for Alexander's money like the rest of them. But they won't get it."

Anna frowned. "Eric ... did you really believe what you said, about us inheriting the mansion?"

"Of course! You know Alexander like us best. We spent more time with him than anybody."

Anna sighted like Eric was too young understand, which Eric hated.

"Come on," she said. "We might as well get this over with." And they waded into the crowd.

The funeral was a blur to Eric. The minister said some stuff about ashes. They lowered the coffin into the ground. Everybody tossed in a shovelful of dirt. Eric thought the mourners enjoyed this part too much, especially Ian and Natalia. He recognized a few more relatives: Stain Su, the old Korean dude with the diamond-tipped walking stick who always insisted they call him Uncle; the Russian lady Alena Moshka, who had twitch in one eye so everybody call her Spaz behind her back; the Starling triplets Ed, Edd and Eddy, who look like part of a cloned Ivy League Lacrosse team. Even that kid from television was there; Jonas Wizard. He stood to one side, getting his pictures taken with a bunch of girls, and there was a line of people waiting to talk to him. He was dressed just like on TV, with lots of silver chains and bracelets, ripped jeans, and a black muscle shirt (Which kind of stupid, since he didn't have any muscles). An older African-American guy in business suit stood behind him, punching notes in a BlackBerry. Probably Jonas dad. Eric had heard Jonas Wizard was related to the Churchills, but he'd never seen him in person before. He wondered if he should get an autograph for his collection. After the service guy, a guy in charcoal-gray suit stepped to the podium. He looked vaguely familiar to Eric. The man had long pointed nose and a balding head. He reminded Eric of a vulture.

"Thank you all for coming," he said gravely. "I am Arthur Williams, Sir Alexander Churchill's lawyer and executor."

"Executor?" Eric whispered to Anna. "He killed him?"

"No, you idiot," Anna whispered back. "That means he's in charge of his will." "If you look inside your programs," Arthur Williams continued, "some of you will find a gold invitation card."

Excited murmuring broke out as four hundred people leafed through their programs. Then most of them cursed and shouted complaints when they found nothing. Eric ripped through his program. Inside was a card with gold-leafed border. It read:

Eric and Anna Churchill hereby invited to the reading of the last will and testament of Alexander Churchill

Where: The Great Hall, Churchill Manor

When: Now

"I knew it!" Eric said.