by Jenny Nimmo
After dinner Charlie gave Fidelio a better explanation about what had happened to Ollie Sparks. He spoke in an undertone as they hurried up the long passage leading from the dining hall. This time he didn't even glance at Selena, in case Manfred was watching.
"Here we go again," said Fidelio. “Another problem for you, Charlie." They had reached the blue coat-room, and here the two friends parted. Fidelio was taking books and pens to his classroom, while Charlie had to carry his homework upstairs to the King's room.
How did he manage always to be late, even when he thought he'd been hurrying? All the other endowed children had gotten to the room before him. As Charlie bounded through the tall black doors, Manfred was making an announcement.
"Two of the endowed have left the school. "Manfred glared at Charlie as he dropped his books on the round table. "Quiet, Bone!"
“As I was saying, Beth and Bindi have left us, but we have a new member."
It had been such an extraordinary day Charlie had almost forgotten Belle. But here she was, sitting between Asa and Dorcas. Asa's weasely features were screwed into an odd smirk and his scraggly red hair stuck out in oily spikes. If it hadn't been for his yellow eyes, you would have found it hard to believe he could turn into a beast.
"Her name's Belle," Manfred continued.
"Belle what?" said Tancred, his pale hair bristling with electricity
"It's not important." Manfred waved his hand.
"It is to me," Tancred persisted. "I like to know a person's whole name."
Charlie wished Tancred would look away before Manfred did something nasty The head boy had an angry hypnotizing stare coming on.
Tancred's friend, Lysander, gave him a warning nudge. "Leave it, Tane."
But Tancred was like a dog with a bone. "My name's Torsson," he said, looking at Belle, "and what . . .”
"Donner," Belle said suddenly
"Belledonner? That's deadly nightshade," said Gabriel Silk. "It can kill you."
“Actually that's belladonna," said Belle. "In small quantities it dilates the pupils. Eyes become shinier, more lustrous and beautiful." All at once, her own round blue eyes flashed with purple lights.
The effect was so startling that even Tancred was speechless. All around the table, books were opened and pens clutched. Homework began in silence.
Above the door the Red King stared out from his portrait. The cracked and ancient painting always raised Charlie's spirits. But he'd never managed to hear the King's voice. Sometimes he caught a low muttering, sometimes a creak and the swish of a cloak, but then a shadow would fall behind the King, like a dark stain on the canvas: a hooded figure that chilled the blood just to look at it. And Charlie knew that the sinister shadow was blocking his contact with the King.
Eleven of us now, thought Charlie. Last semester there had been twelve endowed children. What would happen if there were ten, like the original ten children of the Red King? Would the pattern be repeated, five on one side, five on the other? And this time, who would win?
"Get on with your homework, Bone!" Manfred's voice made Charlie jump.
"Yes, Manfred." Charlie looked down at his open book.
After homework, Emma caught up with Charlie as he made his way to the dormitories. "It was Ollie, wasn't it?" she said breathlessly "The toe under the table?"
Charlie nodded. "I don't think we'll be able to get him back again," he whispered. "He was terrified. And I've got a nasty feeling Manfred knows."
"I'll tell Mr. Boldova," said Emma.
As they approached Emma's dormitory they saw two girls standing outside the door. Their heads were close together and their furtive giggling seemed to imply that they were sharing an unpleasant secret.
"Belle and Dorcas," Emma observed. "It's as if Belle has put Dorcas under a spell. They go everywhere together."
"Good luck, Em," Charlie muttered as Emma slipped into the dormitory
"Trying to ignore me, Charlie Bone?" said Belle as Charlie walked past.
"Not at all," Charlie called without looking back. "I can see that you're busy"
"You ignore me at your peril, Charlie!"
Was it Belle who had spoken? Charlie couldn't be sure. The voice belonged to someone much older, someone whom it would be foolish to disobey.
Charlie hurried on.
Belle and Dorcas were seldom seen apart after that day Charlie became convinced that Belle wasn't what she pretended to be. And then there was Ollie Sparks. The summer term was proving to be more than a little interesting.
"You'd better watch it, Charlie," said Fidelio one day "If you go up in the attics again, you're bound to get detention."
"Or worse," muttered Olivia. '
"Hypnotized for life," said Emma meaningfully "Like Manfred tried to do to me."
They were sitting on a log pile in blazing sunshine. It promised to be a brilliant summer, which was just as well because the school play would be performed in the open air.
"What's Belle like as an artist?" Charlie asked Emma. "I mean, can she draw?"
Emma shrugged. "Who knows? She makes things. We've been asked to design clothes for the play and the set."
The hunting horn sounded and the four children slid off the logs and headed toward the academy
"I wish we could do something about Ollie," said Emma as they reached the garden door. "Maybe if we got detention and stayed in school till Saturday . . . What about you, Charlie?"
Charlie was tempted but he had other responsibilities. "Runner Bean," he said. "I've got to get home to look after him."
It had just been decided that they would all meet on Sunday to discuss Ollie's problem, when Fidelio suddenly announced, "I can't. I've got to play in a concert."
Charlie was sorry to hear this. Fidelio was such a good person to have around in a crisis. He had excellent ideas, and he never gave up. But Fidelio was also a brilliant musician. Charlie was afraid he would be seeing less and less of his friend this semester.
When Charlie got home on Friday evening, so many things went wrong he forgot all about Ollie. He had expected to see his great-uncle, but Paton hadn't returned and there was not even a word from him.
"I'm a bit concerned," said Maisie. "It's not like Paton. And I'm afraid it gets worse, Charlie. I've got to leave here tomorrow"
"What!" Charlie was really worried. His mother had to work on Saturday and the thought of spending a day alone with Grandma Bone was unpleasant to say the least. "Where are you going? Can't I come with you?"
"No chance, Charlie."
Maisie's sister, Doris, had taken ill. Maisie would have to go and look after her. There was no one else. But something would have to be done about Runner Bean. While Charlie was at school, there'd be no one in the house to feed him and look after him.
"You'd better take him for a run now,” said Maisie. "I haven't had time. You can't keep him hidden much longer, Charlie; a lively dog like that is bound to be found out."
As Charlie ran up to his room he could hear Runner Bean whining and scratching the door.
"Shhhh!" Charlie leaped into the room and slammed the door behind him.
Runner Bean put his paws on Charlie's shoulders and licked his face.
"Thanks, but yuck!" whispered Charlie.
There was a creak on the landing and a voice called, "Is that you, Charlie, slamming doors?"
"It's me, Grandma," Charlie sang out. "I'm changing out of my school stuff."
When Charlie put his head out of the door. Grandma Bone had gone back to her room.
"Come on, Runner," Charlie said softly
He ran downstairs with the dog bounding behind him. They left by the back door and slipped into the narrow street that led to the park. An hour later, Charlie and the dog arrived back at number nine, exhausted and hungry
His mother was getting anxious and Charlie explained that he didn't know the time because he'd sort of lost his watch. Mrs. Bone sighed, "Honestly Charlie. I suppose you'd better wear mine until you find yours." She
handed him her watch, which was fortunately not too feminine. "I'm just going to help Maisie with her packing," she said. "Back in a minute."
Charlie searched for the cans of dog food Maisie had hidden. He'd just spotted a can of Bonio in the pantry when there was a loud scream and then a growl.
Charlie looked around to see Grandma Bone rooted to the spot, just inside the door. "WHAT'S THAT DOING IN HERE?" she screeched, pointing at Runner Bean.
"It's Benjamin's dog," Charlie said nervously "You know, Runner Bean."
"Of course, I know, but why isn't it in Hong Kong?"
Before Charlie had time to answer, Runner Bean, snarling horribly rushed at Grandma Bone, who shrieked again.
"Get it out!" she shouted.
"Er . . . " Charlie played for time.
Runner Bean bared his teeth and snapped at the old lady's ankles.
"That's it!" yelled Grandma Bone. She backed out of the kitchen shouting, "I'm calling pest control — the dogs' home — the police. They'll have to put that dog down. It's dangerous."
"Grandma, you can't," Charlie pleaded.
But Grandma Bone was already on the phone, giving her address, telling someone about the killer that needed exterminating. "They'll be around at half past six, and I'm not coming downstairs until that wretched Bean has gone."
Charlie was horrified. He didn't know what to do. Maisie and Mrs. Bone came running down to see what all the fuss was about. But they didn't know what to do either. Maisie was so worried about her sister, she said she couldn't think straight.
"If only Uncle Paton were here," Charlie wailed. "He'd know what to do."
Charlie felt like taking Runner Bean and rushing over to Fidelio's or Emma's, or even Olivia's place. But could they hide the big dog, or would they want to, with Runner Bean looking so wild? He hated being shouted at; his eyes were rolling and low growls kept coming from his throat.
"We'll explain to whoever comes that he must on no account be put down," said Mrs. Bone. "We'll tell them that he's never bitten anyone, ever."
"Perhaps he'll go to a nice dogs' home where you can visit him," Maisie said hopefully
"He'd hate it," cried Charlie. He took a large dish of goose liver pate and ten slices of honey-roast ham out of the fridge and poured them into the dog bowl that Maisie had hidden under the sink.
"Grandma Bone's specials," said Maisie in hushed tones.
"I don't care," said Charlie. He kneeled beside Runner Bean and stroked the dog's wiry head.
It was very satisfying to see his grandmother's favorite food being wolfed down a shaggy throat.
The time was twenty-five minutes past six.
Charlie stood up. "I've made a decision. I'm going to ask Fidelio to hide Runner until Benjamin comes back."
"With all those noisy musicians?" said Maisie. "He wouldn't last a minute."
And then someone rang the doorbell.
CHAPTER 4
SPARKLING STONES
“Is that the dog people?" called Grandma Bone.
Charlie's heart sank.
"Don't worry Charlie. We won't let them do anything nasty" said his mother
Grandma Bone was already in the hall. She opened the front door and gave a yelp of surprise.
Charlie ran into the hall. A small furry-looking man stood on the doorstep. Charlie recognized him immediately It was his friend, Mr. Onimous. Behind him stood three fierce-looking cats — the cause of Grandma Bone's yelp. She hated cats, particularly orange cats. These were orange-, yellow-, and copper-colored.
“Are you the dog exterminator?" she said suspiciously "I've seen you before, and these peculiar cats." She took a step backward.
The man held up a card. "Orvil Onimous, madam. Pest control."
"You'd better come in and get the dog," said Grandma Bone. "Charlie, if it's got a leash, fetch it."
Charlie leaped back into the kitchen, followed by Mr. Onimous and the cats.
"It's OK," Charlie whispered to Maisie and his mother. "Mr. Onimous has come."
Maisie pulled the leash out of her apron pocket and handed it over. "You be good to that dog," she insisted.
Mr. Onimous winked.
There was some good-natured growling and sniffing between cats and dog as Mr. Onimous clipped the leash to Runner Bean's collar, but the big dog seemed very happy to see them all again.
"How did you know about Runner?" Charlie whispered.
"The cats," said Mr. Onimous. "They wanted to pay you a visit. I didn't know nothing till I got here. Come and see us at the café, Charlie."
Grandma Bone called, "Come on, come on! Get that dog out of here."
Mr. Onimous led the cheerful dog away and Runner Bean looked back, just once, to give Charlie an encouraging bark.
"Cheerio, folks," said Mr. Onimous.
Grandma Bone slammed the door. Luckily it was Charlie who answered the bell when the real pest controller turned up. "It's OK," Charlie told the man, "we found the dog a home."
With one problem solved, Charlie had a good night's sleep; in fact he overslept. The next thing he knew, Maisie was shaking him awake.
"I'm off now; Charlie. The taxi's waiting. Your mom's already gone to work, and Grandma Bone's off somewhere." She put a scrap of paper on Charlie's pillow "It's the Yewbeams' address. In case you need them. After all, they are your aunties. I'm leaving you on your own, love, but I've got no choice."
"I'll be OK," yawned Charlie. He couldn't imagine why he would need to call on the Yewbeams.
Maisie gave him a peck on the head, and then she was gone.
It seemed unnaturally quiet. Charlie couldn't remember ever being completely alone in the house before. Uncle Paton had always been there. Always. What had become of him?
After breakfast, Charlie stopped by the market to see his mother. She was weighing apples for an impatient-looking man and there was a long line behind him.
"I can't stop now, Charlie," she muttered. "See you at lunch. You'll be all right, won't you?"
"Sure, I'm going over to Emma's," Charlie said cheerfully
Emma lived with her aunt, Julia Ingledew, in a bookshop behind the cathedral, but as Charlie began to make his way up the steep road to Ingledew's, he found himself pulling Maisie's scrap of paper out of his pocket. His aunts had a very strange address: number thirteen Darkly Wynd.
"Darkly Wynd," murmured Charlie. Was that a road, an alley or another town entirely? Charlie went into a newsstand. He bought a package of peppermints and showed his scrap of paper to the woman behind the counter.
"Darkly Wynd? You're not going there, are you?"
"I thought I might," said Charlie.
"Not a good idea. It's a nasty place. Not suitable for young lads like you."
Charlie was intrigued. "Why?"
"Very dark. No streetlights."
"But it's daytime," Charlie pointed out.
"Things have happened in that place, love. Better not go."
"I've got relations there," said Charlie.
The woman leaned over the counter, staring at Charlie. "What sort of relations?" she asked.
“Aunts. Great-aunts. I'm sure I'll be all right. Please tell me where it is."
The woman sighed and said, "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you. Turn right at the top of this road, then go on till you get to Greybank Crescent. It's off there somewhere."
"Thanks." Charlie left the shop before the woman could utter any more gloomy warnings.
Greybank Crescent was what it sounded like, a crescent of tall, gray buildings facing a semicircle of dusty grass. A huge fir tree stood in the center, lending an air of shadowy menace to the place.
Exactly halfway around the crescent was a gap in the terraced houses, and a faded sign nailed to a side wall read DARKLY WYND. Charlie turned into a narrow, murky alley On either side, grimy windowless walls towered up to the sky A damp wind swirled into his face and it was hard to believe that only a moment ago he'd been standing in sunlight.
The alley broadene
d into a courtyard surrounded by gaunt, ancient-looking houses. Like giant walls they seemed to lean inward, blotting out the light. Above them hung the darkest cloud Charlie had ever seen.
He shivered and began to walk past the houses, counting the numbers on the doors. Nearly every house appeared to be deserted. Windows had been boarded up, peeling doors nailed shut. Someone or something had driven away all the former residents. At number five a group of youths burst out of the door, fighting and screaming. Charlie hurried on. At number nine, a rough-looking man emerged from the basement. He bellowed at Charlie, who began to run. At number eleven a trash can lid crashed to the pavement and a rat ran between Charlie's legs.
Darkly Wynd didn't lead anywhere. At the end of the courtyard a block of buildings, taller than the others, stood facing Charlie. They had strange turrets and iron-framed balconies, tall arched windows with pediments of gnomish faces and unlikely beasts. The first house was number thirteen.
Charlie mounted the stone steps. On the black door at the top a brass knocker, shaped like a hand, hung above the number thirteen. Charlie didn't knock. Of course he didn't. Instead he leaned over the railings and peered into a long window The room beyond was filled with dark, looming furniture. He looked through the window on the other side of the porch and saw portraits of grim and serious people, hanging three deep on every wall. The house was silent. It appeared to be empty
As Charlie retraced his steps he noticed that the next house was also numbered thirteen and so was the next. "Poor mailman," muttered Charlie. The second house was also silent and gloomy but from the third came a whirring, ticking sound.
To get a better view, Charlie ran down the basement steps and climbed onto a narrow ledge beneath the long window Standing on tiptoe he could just see into the room beyond.
What he saw there was more interesting than he could have hoped for. A long oval table almost filled the room. It was covered with scraps of cloth, sparkling sequins, feathers, buttons, tiny squares of mirror, velvet, leather, and bolts of cotton. A row of lights in bell-like brass shades hung over the table, illuminating three figures. Belle sat at a sewing machine, while Aunt Venetia and Dorcas Loom stood side by side, watching her. Aunt Venetia was holding a long hatpin with a black beetle on the tip. Belle said something and Venetia stuck the hatpin into a piece of red velvet. The velvet immediately became a writhing mass of shiny black beetles.