Children of the Red King Book 04 Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors

by Jenny Nimmo

  "I've noticed you looking at it," Manfred went on.

  "Have you?"

  "Don't play innocent," said Manfred curtly "Of course, you look at it. We all do from time to time. But you, Charlie Bone, you have a motive, don't you?"

  "Do I?"

  "Come off it, Bone," snapped Manfred. "You want to “o in,' don't you? And you probably could if it weren't for something in that picture blocking you."

  "Oh?" Charlie was intrigued. So Manfred knew about the dark shadow behind the king's shoulder, the person, or thing, who was preventing Charlie from entering the painting.

  "Have you ever heard anything from that picture, Charlie?" Manfred's tone became soft and persuasive, and Charlie found himself responding to the sudden gentleness in that normally cold voice.

  "Yes, I've heard trees rustling, horses, the clink of a harness. Sometimes steel clashing, and rain."

  "Never the king's voice?"

  "No, never."

  Manfred came and stood on the other side of his desk. Plac ing his hands on the edge, he leaned close to Charl ie and asked, "Do you know why you can't hear the king, Charlie?"

  “It's the shadow," Charlie replied quietly.

  "More than a shadow, Charlie. That dark form is my ancestor Borlath, the elder son of the king. And, Charlie, he's come back!"

  "What?" Charlie sat up. "What do you mean?" A wave of fear washed over him.

  "My great-grandfather conducted a most interesting experiment. He was helped by your great-aunts and, of course, me. We found the bones of Borlath's horse, you see, and most important of all, his heart."

  "Borlath's heart?" breathed Charlie.

  "His heart." Manfred brought his face so close, Charlie could see the deep-blue veins that threaded the hypnotist's eyelids. "It was in a casket, beneath a gravestone marked with a ‘B.’ To tell the truth, it was Asa who found it. He likes to do a bit of digging when he's — not himself — if you get my meaning."

  "I do." Charlie looked away from Manfred's looming face.

  "The horse came to life," Manfred continued, "in my great-grandfather's attic laboratory And so did the heart. They became fused, as it were, and crashed through the wall — you can see the hole from outside if you look up. So now there's a horse on the grounds, with a savage heart, and it's after you."

  "Me?" Charlie jumped to his feet, and his chair crashed onto the floor.

  "I just thought you ought to know." Manfred spread his hands. "Because if you step out of line, the horse will be only too willing to punish you. By that, I mean that hooves can inflict very nasty injuries."

  Charlie refused to give Manfred the satisfaction of seeing how scared he was. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I think I ought to go to bed now"

  "Of course." Manfred swung the bookcase open and Charlie hurriedly left the room. He could still feel Manfred's mocking gaze as he stepped into the hall and hastened up to the dormitories without once looking behind him.

  ************************************

  Up on the fourth floor, Billy Raven lay on a narrow white bed at the end of the infirmary It was a very long room, a nd not one of the other fifteen beds was occupied. The awful stomach cramps had receded, but Billy was left with no doubt that they would return if he so much as whispered about his new home. Had he really broken an oath by giving the black button to Gabriel? And how did the oaths know?

  Matron looked in and told Billy that tomorrow he would be returning to the Passing House. “A little break from your friends is desirable," she said in her chilly voice. "It'll help you to sort things out, Billy" She left without giving him a word of comfort or even a soothing glass of milk.

  Billy stared into the gathering darkness, unable to sleep. A full moon sailed into the sky its brilliance falling through the uncurtained window Billy heard nails clicking across the floorboards toward him. A familiar voice said, "Billy sick?"

  "Blessed." Billy put his hand down and stroked the dog's wrinkled head. Did it count, he wondered, if you told a dog the things you could tell no one else?

  "Horse," grunted Blessed. "In garden."

  "Horse?" Billy sat up.

  "Ghost horse," said Blessed.

  Billy got out of bed and ran to the window The horse stood right below him, not a disappearing, shadowy creature this time, but very real. Its coat was a dazzling white in the moonlight, and every hair of its thick mane and tail shimmered like threads of silver.

  Billy opened the window and looked down at the horse. It met his gaze and spoke. "Child," it said. "My child."

  "Help me," said Billy

  THE JAILBIRD

  Charlie found the black button on Friday at the end of lunch break. Gabriel had thrown it farther than they had thought, because it was lying between two stones paving the inside of the great arch into the castle.

  As Charlie thrust the button into his pocket, a voice said, "What's that, Bone?" Asa Pike was peering around the side of the arch.

  "What's what?" asked Charlie innocently

  "You picked something up."

  "Oh, that!" Charlie put his hand in his pocket and found that by a stroke of luck he'd left a marble in it. "It's just a marble." He pulled it out and held it up to the light. "See! We were playing here yesterday and it rolled into a crack. I thought I'd never get it out."

  Asa eyed the marble suspiciously "Where did you get it?"

  "Can't remember. I've had it for ages. It's a kind of mascot."

  ''Hmmm." Asa turned away The prefect's strange stride always gave Charlie the creeps, and he had an unpleasant vision of Asa's beast shape digging away in the ruins. Where did he find the heart? Charlie wondered. And did they know for certain that it was Borlath's?

  Charlie gave an involuntary shiver and left the ruin. As he slipped the marble into his pocket, his fingers touched the black button, and it brought him a surge of hope. Maybe, at last, he was getting close to finding his father.

  While they were standing in line for the school bus that afternoon, Charlie asked Gabriel to meet him at the Pets' Café on Saturday "I've found the button," whispered Charlie. "Can you try it again, Gabriel?"

  Gabriel gave one of his enigmatic shrugs. "I'm not sure I want to meet that horse again."

  "The button's got nothing to do with the horse," said Charlie. "Trust me. I'll explain tomorrow."

  "You 'd better," said Fidelio. “And you still haven't told us why you were late for bed last night."

  All will he revealed," Charlie promised.

  • • •

  Uncle Paton had lately acquired the habit of ordering delicious food from a fancy store in the city An inheritance from one of his mother's wealthy French relatives had made this possible, but he made sure that everyone at number nine should benefit from his good fortune.

  Of course, it only gave the Yewbeam sisters yet another reason to hate their brother. But while Grandma Bone privately seethed, she couldn't help enjoying the delicacies. Grizelda Bone loved good food, especially foie gras and caviar. Today, while Paton, Maisie, and Julia Ingledew sat in the kitchen, eating venison pie, Grandma Bone reclined in the living room with her own jar of caviar, a plate of melba toast, and a glass of port. She didn't like eating with visitors, especially Miss Ingledew, whom she imagined was chasing her brother, though anyone could have told her that it was the other way around.

  "Wow!" exclaimed Charlie when he entered the kitchen. "What a fantastic smell. Can I have some of whatever it is that's making it?"

  Uncle Paton cut him a large slice of pie, and Maisie pushed a pot of chutney in his direction.

  "Try s
ome. It beats the usual stuff," said Maisie with a wink. "It's got rum in it."

  Charlie noticed that his uncle was wearing a new jacket. “re you going somewhere special?" he asked.

  Paton put a finger to his lips. "Shhh! We don't want a certain person to know about it."

  "Actually we planned to take you with us," said Julia under her breath.

  No more was said on the subject, and although Charlie was burning with curiosity he realized that everyone was waiting for Grandma Bone to fall asleep. A few minutes later, Amy Bone got back from work and joined everyone in the kitchen. Charlie was asked to take the bottle of port into the living room.

  "Charlie — how nice — s'more port?"

  Charlie found it hard not to smile at Grandma Bone's slurred speech. She had clearly drunk more than one glass of port already He carefully refilled her glass and asked if she'd like some venison pie.

  "Pie — mmm — nice." Grandma Bone smacked her lips and lifted her feet onto the sofa.

  Charlie returned to the kitchen, put a slice of pie on a plate, and covered it with lots of rum and apricot chutney. "She's nodding off" he said softly

  Ten minutes later, they heard loud snores coming from the living room.

  "She'll be out for hours," said Maisie. "I'd go now if I were you."

  "Where are you going?" asked Amy

  “Ah ... to a house quite near here," Paton told her. “nd we'd like to take Charlie."

  "Why?" asked Amy. "It's . . . it's not dangerous, is it?"

  "Oh, Mom. Of course not," said Charlie, who had no idea whether it was dangerous or not.

  "How do you know?" his mother gave Paton a wary look.

  Paton scratched his head. "Well, it shouldn't be dangerous." He consulted a note that he'd pulled out of his top pocket. "It's only a few blocks away and as far as I know; it's a very quiet neighborhood."

  “As far a s you know," muttered Amy "Paton, you're always going somewhere dangerous."

  "Mom, please," Charlie begged.

  "We have to meet a relative of Billy Raven's," explained Miss Ingledew. "The poor man's in a bad way. He has to send Paton's letters to me in case they get into the wrong hands."

  Amy gave a grudging smile. “ll right, Charlie."

  It was still not dark enough for Uncle Paton to risk an appearance outside, but after waiting for another half hour, an obliging black cloud began to cover the sky. By the time the small expedition left number nine, heavy raindrops fell into the street.

  Uncle Paton opened a large blue umbrella, which cove red him and Miss Ingledew but left Charlie catch ing most of the drops. Unconcerned, Charlie ran ahead. Followi ng the ro ad down to the park, he turned left as he’s been instructed. Here, an avenue of tall plane trees gave him some protection from the rain, which had become very heavy. He walked on for another half a kilometer until Uncle Paton shouted, "Take a right, Charlie. It's number fifteen."

  Charlie rounded a corner onto a road that could almost have been described as a country lane. Leafy boughs swept over the pavement, and most of the houses were hidden behind tall hedges or overgrown shrubs.

  The gate of number fifteen was badly in need of a coat of paint, and one hinge was missing. Charlie could hardly see the house — it was covered in ivy and white roses. A delicious scent wafted out from the garden, and Miss Ingledew declared that it was the most wonderful aroma in the world.

  "I'll have to get it bottled for you," said Unc le Paton fondly

  They pushed open the rickety gate and walked up the path to a white door. There w as no bell or knocker, so Charlie pulled a brass chain that hung at the side of the door. A chime could be heard, sounding inside the house.

  The next moment, Alice Angel was standing on the doorstep. "Charlie, you came, too," she said. "Oh, I'm so glad."

  Charlie was speechless. No one had told him they were going to see Alice Angel. He was rather confused. But Uncle Paton and Miss Ingledew stepped into the house and introduced themselves as though Alice were a perfectly normal person, so Charlie decided to follow them.

  Alice took their damp coats and jackets and led them into a pretty living room. Because so much greenery covered the windows, the room was rather dark, and Alice immediately reached for the light switch.

  "Stop!" cried Paton.

  His cry came too late. The lights in the small chandelier hanging in the center of the room exploded one by one, and a shower of glass fell onto the carpet, missing Alice by centimeters.

  "I'm so, so sorry," Paton apologized. "I should have warned you. How thoughtless. How remiss. Oh dear!"

  "My fault entirely," said Alice. "It's too dark in here. I'll get the dustpan while you talk to Christopher."

  Charlie stared into the gloom, trying to locate Christopher, while Uncle Paton and Miss Ingledew argued with Alice about who should sweep up the broken glass. Alice insisted that her visitors should make themselves comfortable while she fetched a dustpan.

  As they took their seats, a quiet chuckle came from a corner of the room, then a voice said, "So, Mr. Yewbeam, you're a power-booster. I've always wanted to meet one."

  Everyone peered into the corner and eventually made out a small scrawny man with thinning hair and ill-fitting clothes. The stranger got up and came toward them, extending his hand. "Christopher Crowquill," he said. "I know who you are."

  While they all shook hands, Alice came back with a dustpan and brush, which Paton immediately grabbed. He began to sweep the floor, and Alice returned to the kitchen for cake and candles. When they were all sitting comfortably in the candlelit room, the cakes were passed around and Christopher Crowquill questioned Charlie about Billy Raven.

  "Billy's ill, Mr. Crowquill," said Charlie.

  "Ill?" Christopher looked alarmed.

  "He'd just shown us a button he'd found, and then suddenly he was rolling about in agony. He kept mumbling about an oath and how he hadn't broken it. He was taken to the infirmary and I haven't seen him since."

  "The oaths are deadly!" Christopher declared. "Florence keeps a bag full of them. They're mostly signed by people who've borrowed money. Unfortunately, once an oath has been signed Florence never returns it, even when the money has been repaid. If anyone breaks an oath, they experience a torturous pain. Sometimes, the agony is so great the victim is crippled for life. The paper is dipped in poison and then imbued with what I've been led to believe is a vicious spirit. They've made Billy sign an oath, I'll bet my life on it."

  "So that's why he was too scared to tell me anything," said Charlie thoughtfully "But I think I know the name of his new home. He called it the Passing House."

  "The Passing House!" Christopher clapped his hand to his forehead. "Dear me. The Passing House could never be described as a home. The Bloors use it for occasional guests: people who need somewhere to hide or others whom the Bloors want to hide. If Usher de Grey is involved, then Billy won't be able to leave the place until Usher chooses to let him go. Oh, the poor child. I must help him."

  "But how can Usher keep the boy a prisoner?" asked Miss Ingledew indignantly

  "My dear, he can create a force field." Christopher gazed at his knotted, careworn hands and shook his head. "He is powerfully endowed, that man, and most unpleasant. Poor Billy will never be able to break away Usher's invisible wall is stronger than iron."

  This information made everyone feel so gloomy there was utter silence in the room until Uncle Paton suddenly said, "The button, Charlie. What's its significance?"

  Charlie explained that Billy had found the button in the Passing House and was curious to know i
f it could tell him anything. "We've got this friend, Gabriel," he told Alice and Christopher, who were both looking puzzled. "Gabriel can feel things. He can see things too if he wears someone else's clothes. It gives him a lot of grief so he steers clear of old clothes and stuff most of the time. At first, we didn't think it would work with a button, because you can't put it on, can you? But then it did work."

  There was an expectant hush, eventually broken by Uncle Paton, who said, "And . . . ?"

  “And . . ." Charlie was unexpectedly embarrassed. "He saw a man with dark hair, trapped inside walls of glass — mirrors — and he heard a piano, but he couldn't see it. And then . . . and then . . ." Charlie described the terrifying experience of the ghost horse and the dreadful experiment in Ezekiel's laboratory

  The room was immediately filled with exclamations of horror and consternation. In fact, the outraged voices became so loud and fierce, Charlie felt overwhelmed and he begged to be allowed out for a breath of air.

  Alice showed him the back door, and Charlie stepped into a calm ocean of flowers. It had stopped raining at last and a wonderful steamy scent filled the garden.

  "Phew! And I never told them the horse was after me," Charlie murmured.

  The sight of a real gypsy caravan took his mind off his immediate problems, and he waded through the flowers until he reached a set of wooden steps leading up to the caravan door. He was about to climb the steps when a movement at the end of the garden caught his eye. To his surprise, he saw Olivia staring at him from the top of a high wall.

  "Liv!" he called. "Olivia. What are you doing here?"

  Olivia dropped down on the other side.

  "Be like that, then!" called Charlie. Leaping over the rain-soaked plants, he came to the wall and called again, "Liv are you there? What are you doing?" Charlie hauled himself up to the top of the wall and looked into another garden, this one rather bereft of flowers. The smooth green lawn swept up to a large white house that Charlie immediately recognized. The house belonged to the Vertigos. Alice Angel was Olivia's neighbor. How odd that Olivia didn't know her.