by Jenny Nimmo
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In all this time, there was no sign of Grandma Bone. She didn't even put in an appearance at dinner. Charlie knocked on her door, but there was no reply. Had she gone out? Or was she still sleeping?
"She's asleep," said Maisie, tiptoeing out of Grandma Bone's room at nine o'clock. "Can't you hear the snoring?"
Charlie took himself off to bed. It was school tomorrow. Will Olivia be there? he wondered. And what will she do? Whose friend will she become?
In spite of the questions filling his mind, Charlie found himself drifting easily into sleep. He thought of Alice Angel in the room above him. It was comforting to know that she was in the house, even if she was someone else's guardian angel.
"We're borrowing her," Charlie said to himself, "just for a while, until Olivia wants her." And then his thoughts turned to Billy Raven pulled nine hundred years through time to the enchanter's palace. No wonder Billy didn't want to come home; his
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companion was the most beautiful girl in the world -- a girl with dark curls and a gentle smile, a girl named Matilda whom Charlie would give anything to see again.
Billy wasn't having such a good time as Charlie imagined. He was being punished, and he blamed Rembrandt. Rembrandt was Billy's rat; he was sleek and black, with shining eyes and long, impressive whiskers. He happened to be in Billy's pocket when Billy was whisked into the painting of Badlock. A nasty spell of the enchanter's (or Count Harken of Badlock, to give him his full title).
Life in Badlock had been very good to Billy. He had fine clothes to wear, delicious food to eat, and a jungle of animal enchantments to visit every day. There was also Matilda, Count Harken's granddaughter, the kindest friend Billy had ever known. But Rembrandt wanted to go home. He nagged and complained and chewed Billy's new shoes and generally made himself a terrible nuisance. Billy could communicate with animals.
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He understood every squeak, whine, purr, twitter -- and a lot more.
One day Rembrandt went too far. It was during dinner, the worst time he could have chosen. Dinner in the enchanter's palace was a very important affair. It was served in a vast black marble hall. False stars shone down from the vaulted ceiling, and the walls were hung with glittering weapons.
The glass-topped table was twenty feet long, and the count and his wife, sitting at opposite ends, had to converse in shouts that made Billy's head ache.
Billy and Matilda sat next to each other, facing Edgar, Matilda's brother, a hard-faced boy who liked to frighten Billy by appearing suddenly through a wall or a door. The diners only had to utter the name of the food they wanted and it would instantly be conjured up. Billy usually chose whatever Matilda was having. He tried to feed Rembrandt as much as he could without Edgar catching sight of him. Edgar loathed the rat; he called Rembrandt an abomination not fit to walk the earth, let alone live in a palace.
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So when Rembrandt, tired of the usual tidbits, leaped onto the table and made a dash for Edgar's plate, Edgar jumped up with a yell, seized a knife from the wall, and flung it at the rat. Luckily, it missed Rembrandt and slid across the table, but Billy was already on his feet, screaming at Edgar.
"You vile, mean, horrible boy," Billy cried. "You nearly killed my rat."
"It's a pity he didn't," the countess remarked.
The dreadful coldness in her voice stunned Billy. Rembrandt jumped into his arms and he sat down abruptly.
"The creature must be killed," the countess continued. "Don't you agree, Harken?"
Billy stared at the countess's long face. Her small black eyes rested on the rat he was clutching to his chest.
"Well, Harken, say something!" the countess demanded, raising her voice.
Billy turned to look at the enchanter, who until that moment had been ignoring the drama and
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carrying on with his meal as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Taking a sip of wine from a golden goblet, he regarded Billy with a thoughtful expression and stood up.
Billy cowered under the enchanter's chilly gaze. His green robe glittered with diamonds and emeralds, and his abundant hair shone with a dusting of powdered gold. Sometimes Billy was so overawed by his host's magnificence, he could barely look at him. He waited, fearfully, for the count's pronouncement. At last it came.
"We shall not bother with the rat," said the enchanter.
Billy's heart gave a flutter of relief. His hopes were dashed, however, by the enchanter's next words. "The creature can keep the boy company in the dungeons."
"Sir, you can't do that!" cried Matilda. "Billy is our guest."
"I am tired of guests!" the count roared at her. "Guards, take the boy away."
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Before Billy could think what might be coming next, two guards stepped forward and grabbed his arms. Rembrandt dropped to the floor and scuttled at Billy's heels as he was marched out of the hall. He could hear Matilda's protesting cries receding into the distance as he was taken farther and farther down the long dark passages that led to the dungeons.
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12. THE SEA-GOLD CHARMS
When Charlie went down to breakfast the next morning, he found Alice in the kitchen. A pot of tea had been made, oatmeal was cooking on the stove, and slices of golden-brown toast filled the toast rack on the table.
"Good morning, Charlie," Alice said brightly. "Watch the oatmeal for me; I'm going to take Maisie a cup of tea." She spoke as if she had lived at number nine for much longer than a night.
"Morning, Alice." Charlie took up a wooden spoon and began to stir the oatmeal while Alice slipped out, carrying a cup of tea with two biscuits on the saucer. Her footsteps were so light they could hardly be heard on the stairs.
By the time Alice came back, Charlie had eaten his oatmeal. The plows had been working through the night and the roads were clear, although the side streets were still covered in snow. The sky was bright blue
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and the sun made roofs, walls, trees, and hedges blaze with light. Alice opened the window and breathed in deeply. "I love the smell of snow," she said.
Charlie sniffed the cold air and agreed with her. The world smelled deliriously fresh. He ran upstairs to fetch his schoolbag. As he pulled on his blue school cape, he found that he was glad of its warmth. Sometimes other children in the street would tease him for attending Bloor's Academy and wearing a fancy cape. And Charlie would stuff the embarrassing garment in his bag, trying not to draw attention to himself. But today he felt warm and confident.
The house was still very quiet, almost as if it were buried in snow. There wasn't a sound from Grandma Bone's room.
Alice came to the kitchen door just as Charlie was leaving. "Watch Olivia for me, Charlie," she said. "Don't let anything... anyone ... I hardly know what I'm saying because it's obvious that she's become one of THEM now.
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But I'd like to know how it happened, so that I can deal with it."
"I'll do my best," Charlie promised. He still couldn't believe that the Olivia he knew would allow herself to be TAKEN OVER.
On the other side of the road, Benjamin was throwing snowballs for Runner Bean to fetch. "No school for me today," he called happily. "School's closed 'cause of the snow."
"Lucky thing," Charlie shouted back. He knew the blue bus would be waiting for him at the top of the road. Only an avalanche would close Bloor's Academy.
Charlie hardly saw Olivia during the day. Sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of a bleached blond head above a purple cape, but then she'd be gone, swallowed in a sea of purple. Drama students surrounded her like bees around a honeypot. It wasn't until the homework hours began that Charlie discovered what he was really up against.
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After dinner, Charlie climbed the back stairs up to the King's Room, where the endowed children had to do their homework. He was halfway up when a voice behind him whispered, "Charlie." He turned around and saw Emma's pale, distraught face. Her eyes were re
d from crying.
"What's up, Em?" Charlie asked.
The Branko twins came up behind them and tried to push pass. Idith (or was it Inez?) hissed, "You're in the way, morons."
Charlie's fist itched. He would have liked to land a punch on Idith's doll-like face, but reluctantly he stepped aside and let them pass. When the twins were out of earshot, Emma said, "Something's wrong with Liv. She hasn't spoken to me all day."
"THEY'VE got her," Charlie whispered.
"What?" Emma's blue eyes widened in disbelief. "They can't have."
"She betrayed herself, Em. Once they knew, they were bound to try and change her."
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"No." Emma vigorously shook her head. "They couldn't. Not Liv. I won't believe it."
Dorcas Loom trudged past them, breathing heavily. "What's wrong with you two?" she mumbled, without looking back.
Charlie and Emma didn't bother to reply.
"It's true," Charlie said in a low voice as Dorcas disappeared around a bend in the stairs. "Alice Angel has come back. Olivia wouldn't see her."
Emma's mouth fell open.
"We'd better go, Em," said Charlie. "We're late."
They began to hurry up the stairs, but hearing slow footsteps at the bottom of the staircase, Charlie glanced back. Dagbert Endless stood brushing the shoulders of his blue cape. His hair was like wet seaweed and the bottoms of his pants were soaked with snow. Feeling Charlie's eyes on him, Dagbert looked up.
Charlie couldn't stop himself from asking, "Have you hidden your charms?"
Dagbert gave a silent nod.
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"Good." Charlie didn't want to know where they were. But he was glad they were out of Lord Grimwald's reach. He ran up the stairs with Dagbert plodding after him.
The King's Room was almost circular. Its curved walls were lined with books, and in the center stood a large, round table. The endowed children sat at the table to do their homework, watched over by the Talents Master.
When Charlie walked into the room that night, he was surprised to see that Olivia had already made herself at home. She had never worked in the King's Room before, but here she was, sitting between Dorcas and one of the twins, with her books laid out neatly before her. She had been accepted as one of the endowed and quickly taken her place among them.
There were always two distinct groups at the table. Manfred sat with Dorcas, Joshua, and the twins while on the other side of the table, Lysander, Gabriel, Emma, and Charlie sat close together. Dagbert was
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always alone in the gap between the groups, never on one side or the other.
Lysander and Gabriel were already immersed in their work. Charlie took a chair beside Gabriel, with Emma on his other side. When Charlie put his books on the table, Gabriel looked up and rolled his eyes, inclining his head toward Olivia. Charlie grimaced and shrugged. Gabriel frowned. Charlie grinned.
"Stop making faces, you two," said Manfred. "If you want to welcome our new member, do it sensibly."
Gabriel and Charlie stared at him. Neither said a word.
Manfred sighed. "For your benefit and everybody else's, I might as well formally announce that Olivia Vertigo has joined our elite company. Olivia is an illusionist, something that she has been keeping to herself for quite a while, but now that her endowment is out in the open, we expect her to use it only when Bloor's Academy requires her to."
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Everyone stared at Olivia, who took absolutely no notice. She was bent over her exercise book, writing feverishly.
"Do you think," said Joshua, in his eager whine, "that Olivia could show us, just once, what an illusionist can do?"
Manfred pondered this before replying, "I don't see why not." He turned to Olivia. "Olivia, show them."
Olivia's head came up. She looked slightly confused.
"An illusion please, Olivia," said Manfred, enunciating every word as though Olivia were deaf.
Olivia blinked and then looked up at the ceiling. When she brought her gaze back to the table, all at once a miniature safari park appeared. Sand covered the table's polished surface, while scrub and acacia trees bloomed from books and pencil cases. Charlie had seen Olivia's larger-than-life illusions, but today she had chosen to captivate rather than terrify.
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Among the trees, tiny animals could be seen: elephants, giraffes, lions, zebras, and many others. Faint howls, growls, and shrieks were heard as lions chased their prey and minute birds fluttered out of the branches.
Everyone gazed at the scene in silent wonder. And yet Charlie could not feel enthralled, for there was a coldness in Olivia's blank face, a chilling emptiness. He could see something sparkling in the opening of her purple cape. Olivia often wore sequined scarves or vests, but this was different somehow. Now and again she would twitch her shoulders, as though her clothes were too heavy for her.
"That's enough," Manfred commanded.
The marvelous scene disappeared and Dorcas and the twins stared at Olivia in admiration. Joshua said, "Well done!"
"Get on with your work," said Manfred.
Books were opened and heads bent over them. Pens and pencils set to work, but Charlie couldn't concentrate.
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He found himself staring at the gilt-framed painting on the wall. It was an ancient portrait of the Red King, cracked and darkened with age. The king's features were blurred, but his red cloak was still bright and a slim gold crown was just visible in his black hair.
So often Charlie had tried to travel into the past to meet his ancestor, but every attempt had been blocked by the shadow that stood behind the king. Count Harken was an enchanter whose shadow had found its way even into a painting. And it was the shadow that Charlie focused on today. It was the shadow that held Billy Raven captive in Badlock.
"How many times have I told you to stop staring at that portrait?" Manfred's cold voice broke into Charlie's thoughts.
"I haven't counted," said Charlie.
Before Manfred could make another withering remark, Lysander said, "Why is the portrait there if we're not supposed to look at it?"
Taken off guard, Manfred glared speechlessly at Lysander.
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Seizing his advantage, Lysander went on, "We are sitting in the Red King's room; he is our ancestor; without the king we would not be here. Does it not strike you as ridiculous, sir, that we should be commanded never to gaze on his portrait?"
What a joy it was to see Manfred's angry, incredulous face. Of all the endowed children, it was only Lysander whom Manfred feared. Lysander could conjure up his spirit ancestors, no mere illusions but ghostly warriors who could throw a spear straight at your heart.
Everyone waited to see what Manfred would do. Eventually the Talents Master made a contemptible remark. "I hope you don't find yourself in the same predicament as your friend," he said, glancing at Dagbert the drowner.
It was obvious that Manfred was referring to Tancred, but Dagbert didn't appear to have heard him. His eyes had a glazed look, and Charlie guessed that he was thinking of his sea-gold charms.
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Frowning at Dagbert, Manfred told everyone to get on with their work.
The minutes ticked by. After almost two silent hours the endowed children packed up their homework and made their way to bed.
In the girls' dormitory, Olivia took off her purple cape, revealing a velvet vest covered with shimmering mirrored circles.
"That's very beautiful," Emma remarked.
Olivia gave her a half smile and sauntered off to the bathroom. Emma threw on her bathrobe and began to follow r her. Dorcas Loom was sitting on her bed just inside the door. She was wearing a frilly pink nightgown and trying to straighten her crimpy fair hair. When Emma passed her bed, Dorcas said quietly, "Something wrong with your friend?"
Emma stopped and looked at Dorcas, who added, "What's eating you?"
And suddenly Emma knew that Olivia had been bewitched by that sparkling vest. Because that's what
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Dorcas could do; it was what Charlie's great-aunt Venetia prided herself on. Both could make bewitching garments.
Emma ran to the bathroom. Olivia was brushing her hair in the mirror. She had taken off the vest to put on her pajamas, and now the sparkling vest lay on a chair. Seizing her chance, Emma made a grab for it.
"DON'T TOUCH IT!" Olivia's long nails dug into the back of Emma's hand. For a moment Emma resisted. She clung to the vest, but Olivia, raising her hairbrush, brought it down, crack, across Emma's knuckles.
Emma let go with a cry, and Olivia pulled the vest on over her pajamas. "Don't ever do that again," she said.
Emma followed Olivia back into the dormitory. She watched her friend get into bed, still wearing the vest. It scratched and tinkled against the covers, and Emma shuddered. "Night, Liv!" she murmured.
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Without replying, Olivia turned over and closed her eyes.
After lights out Charlie and Fidelio went to the bathroom, where they could talk in peace. Fidelio might not have been endowed, but he was Charlie's loyal friend and always would be. Sitting crossed-legged beside Charlie on the bathroom floor, he listened with mounting horror to the account of his best friend's grim weekend.
"I haven't heard about anyone being murdered," whispered Fidelio. "Poor old Mr. Bittermouse."
"It was probably in all the papers this morning," said Charlie. "But the swordsman will be back in his portrait before anyone can catch him."