By Diana Wynne Jones

Somebody at Stallery Mansion is altering the realm. before everything, purely small info, however the alterations get greater and larger. it is as much as Conrad, a twelve-year-old with negative karma who is simply joined the mansion's employees, to determine who's at the back of it. yet he isn't the single one snooping round. His fellow servant-in-training, Christopher Chant, is fascinating, convinced, and from one other international, with a project of his personal -- rescuing his buddy, misplaced in another Stallery Mansion. Can they keep the day prior to Conrad's lousy destiny catches up with them?

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Additional info for Conrad's Fate (The Chrestomanci Series, Book 5)

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It was enough to make anyone stare. Christopher dropped back beside me. “Ah,” he said. “I see a footman or a lackey. But it’s the breeches that seem to be velvet. ” “My name’s Hugo,” the young man said. He smiled at us, very pleasantly. “If you’ll just follow me, I’ll show you where to go. Mr. ” Five Everyone went quiet and nervous. Even Christopher said nothing more. We all trooped up the steps, and with the young man’s buckled shoes and striped stockings flashing ahead, we followed him through confusing shrubbery paths.

I looked at Christopher, expecting him to be used to much fancier bedrooms. But I’d forgotten he’d just spent a month in a gypsy caravan. He looked around with pleasure. “Nice,” he said. “Companionable. Twice as big as a caravan. ” “The end of the corridor,” Hugo said. “The corner room on every passage is always a bathroom. Now come and get your uniforms. ” I hurriedly dumped my plastic bag on a bed, wondering if I would ever find it again, and we followed Hugo back out into the corridor. ” He took off his narrow silk tie and wrapped it around the doorknob on the outside of the door.

Most of them were trying to eat sandwiches, too, and hang on to coats and shoes and bags while they ate. ” I said at length. “Call me Christopher,” he said. ” “Conrad Te—Grant,” I said, remembering my alias just in time. “Conrad T. ” he said. “No,” I said. ” “Very well,” he said. “Grant you shall be. ” Hose? I thought. I had visions of myself in a reel of rubber pipe. “I don’t know what they dress you in,” I said. ” “That seems obvious,” Christopher replied. ” This was so exactly what I thought about him that I was rather shaken.

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