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

by Jenny Nimmo

  "This is it?" said Charlie, hardly able to believe what was about to happen. '"Bye, Tancred. And thanks."

  "Good luck," said Tancred, his gruff tone unable to disguise a slight uneasiness.

  The mare began to trot through the trees, but as she gathered speed, Charlie shouted, "Tancred, did you speak to my uncle?"

  "He wasn't there. I told your mom you'd be staying the night with me."

  "You've got to speak to my uncle. Swear you will, Tancred!"

  "I swear!" cried Tancred. He waited until the white mare was out of sight and then he ran home.

  Darkness fell fast and Tancred didn't see the gray-beast crouched in the undergrowth, watching and listening.

  Just for a second, Charlie caught himself wondering if he should have given this adventure a little more thought before leaping into the dark — or onto a horse's back. But it was not in his nature to fret over past mistakes, so he clung to the reins and prepared to enjoy the ride of his life.

  Once she was out of the woods, the mare kept to the narrow path that led to the top of the Heights. From here, the city lay before her like a distant constellation. The Red King and Queen Berenice had often come riding on this hill, and she knew exactly where their castle lay Even in this new world of lights and noise and tall, shining buildings, she could still see the outline of the castle walls, behind the big gray house that held the troubled children from her endowed lineage.

  T he c ity throbbed with its painful past. The queen could feel it as she walked on the surface. It saddened her, for she had spent many happy years in the Red Castle.

  In the months before her tenth child was born, a dreadful sickness had swept through the country The queen was struck with it, and although she fought the sickness, she grew so weak that when her daughter Amoret arrived, she knew she would never live to protect her or the other, more vulnerable of her children. But now she had two of her children back again, and she would use the strange new chance that she had been granted to help these brave boys.

  For almost a thousand years Queen Berenice had lived in the land of the dead — the otherworld — and from there she had brought certain powers into this new life that neither she nor her favorite mare had possessed all those years ago. These powers enabled her to climb the steepest cliff to clear the widest chasm, and to fly with ease over the boiling surf.

  They traveled under a full moon, and all the way they kept to the coast, a route the queen knew well. Charlie was aware that he and Billy had a charmed life that night. They entered a world even stranger than the places he had found when he traveled into pictures. There were no roads or houses, lights or noises in this land: It was ancient, wild, and empty

  Several times, Charlie fell asleep, but when he woke he was always astride the mare, with Billy's sleepy head against his back and the white moth shining before him, like a tiny crown between the horse's ears. As far as he knew, the mare never stopped — not once — until she trotted into a wide bay where the beach sparkled with shells and silver sand.

  The mare gave a soft whinny and Billy said, "We're here."

  "Here?" Charlie looked about him. All he could see was the shining ocean and the beach; behind them a tall cliff rose into the darkness.

  "It's out there!" Billy slid off the horse and ran to the edge of the water. "There!" he pointed.

  "I can't see anything." Charlie slipped his feet out of t he stirrups and jumped onto the beach. "Where?" He searched the dark horizon and saw far, far out a mysterious glimmer, like the reflection of stars on water. "I think I see it now," he said. And he wondered if someone in that distant castle was lighting a candle. His father, maybe.

  The mare neighed, a loud, urgent sound.

  Billy said, "She says we mustn't go out there now We must wait for morning."

  "And how are we going to get there?" Charlie asked himself. But he was too tired to think anymore. Sleep weighed heavily on his eyelids and his legs were about to buckle under him.

  They slept in a cozy hollow at the base of the cliff, and the mare stood beside them, shielding them from the night wind.

  They awoke to a blue sky and a sea that was clear and calm. But where was the island? The horizon was lost in mist. The boys took off their socks and shoes, rolled up their jeans, and walked into the sea, peering at the tantalizing haze. The water lapped at their knees and Charlie's stomach rumbled. He couldn't help hoping that if they ever reached the elusive castle, his father might have the means to make them a nice hot breakfast. On second thought, even a cold one would do.

  At the moment, things weren't very promising. The distant glimmer of last night could have been any thing: a passing ship, a falling star, a mirage? Charlie's feet were beginning to feel numb. He waded back to shore with Billy splashing behind him.

  They sat on the shell beach, rubbing their wet feet with their socks. Charlie was surprised to see that Billy's face was shining with excitement. He thought he ought to warn him that the situation wasn't entirely hopeful. "Suppose we never find the castle?" Charlie said.

  Billy didn't lose his smile. "I haven't seen the sea for ages. In fact, I can hardly remember it."

  This hadn't occurred to Charlie. All the same, he had to bring Billy back to earth. "We might be in the wrong place." He glanced at the while mare cropping the grass on the cliff, and lowered his voice. "I mean, it was almost a thousand years ago when she . . . was alive. She could have got it wrong."

  "I don't think she did." Billy cleaned his glasses and squinted at the sea.

  Charlie looked up. The mist was beginning to rise, and there on the ocean, an island was revealed. A distant, beautiful, blue island with a glittering crown. A castle of shining glass.

  When she saw the island, the white mare's scream was almost human. Her hooves sent sprays of shells into the air as she raced across the beach, leaped over a rocky outcrop, and disappeared from view But her voice could still be heard, calling to them as she galloped away from the sea.

  "She says she's not leaving us," said Billy "but her heart won't let her look at the island where her children died. What does she mean?"

  Charlie decided that it was time to tell Billy the true history of the Castle of Mirrors. But would Billy want to go there once he knew what had happened to Prince Amadis?

  THE ENCHANTED CAPE

  “What! The QUEEN!"

  Manfred stepped back to avoid his greatgrandfather's flying spit. Even so, a large glob of it fell on his nicely polished shoe. Asa, cringing beside him, managed to stifle a giggle.

  This was turning into one of Manfred's more unpleasant Mondays. The weekend had been bad enough, with that little squirt, Billy Raven, escaping from the Passing House and Usher de Grey's near-fatal accident. Not to mention the loss of the oaths and Florence going crazy Her screams, when they had to lock her in the cold room, still rang in his ears. Hopefully she'd cooled down by now.

  On top of these misfortunes, Asa Pike had come creeping in with the news that the great experiment hadn't worked exactly as they had thought. Instead o f a warhorse with a brutal heart, they had brought back to life a white mare with the heart of a loving mother queen.

  "Look on the bright side, Grandfather," said Manfred, gingerly pushing the spit off his left shoe with the toe of his right. "After all, it's quite an achievement."

  "I didn't WANT the QUEEN!" screamed Ezekiel. "I wanted Borlath."

  "Well, you've got the queen," Manfred said flatly "Or rather, Charlie Bone has got her, and now he and Billy are well on the way to the Castle of Mirrors."

  "Well on the way," echoed Asa, looking unnecessarily pleased with himself.

  "It's your fault," blazed Ezekiel, pointing
a gnarled finger at Asa. "You found the gravestone; you brought me the heart."

  "I didn't know whose it was," whined Asa. "There was just a ‘B’ on the grave. No one told me the queen was called Berenice."

  "Ugh!" growled Ezekiel.

  Asa grew bolder. "I've done well," he insisted. "I followed Paton Yewbeam, and I found that Crowquill man. I spent hours hiding in the Silks' filthy yard, and then crouching in that damp wood, and now my bones ache something awful. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't know where Billy had gone, would you?"

  "All right!" yelled Ezekiel. "Take the day off."

  "I don't want the day off" Asa muttered peevishly "I just want recognition."

  "You've got it." Manfred nudged Asa in the ribs.

  "They're getting above themselves," grumbled Ezekiel. "The whole bunch of them. Lysander, Torsson, Gabriel Silk — it's got to be stopped. Send me the Tilpin boy!"

  "Joshua?" Manfred raised an eyebrow. "What can he do?"

  "You'd be surprised, Manfred," said his greatgrandfather. "But you'll soon find out. Now buzz off, both of you."

  Manfred objected to being treated like a child. He deserved better. With a dark scowl he marched off down the many corridors and stairways that led from his great-grandfather's room, while Asa shuffled in his wake, whining.

  "What does he want Tilpin for?" Asa complained. "He can't do anything. He's too small, and he's had no experience."

  "We know he's got magnetism," Manfred retorted. "I suppose it depends what he does with it. Could be interesting."

  "Hmff!"Asa sniffed.

  Manfred caught Joshua just as he was coming out of the green coatroom. Assembly was over and the children were about to go to their first classes.

  "Mr. Ezekiel wants to see you," said Manfred, grabbing the small boy's shoulder.

  "Oh?" Joshua gave Manfred one of his extraordinary gap-toothed smiles, and once again Manfred felt the peculiar tingle that made him return Joshua's smile even though a moment ago smiling had been the last thing on his mind.

  "Do you know how to find Mr. Ezekiel's room?" Manfred asked kindly

  "Yes, sir. It's in the west wing, right at the top."

  "Good lad. Off you go, then. Better hurry"

  "Yes, sir."

  It was very gratifying to be called "sir." Manfred wore his smile every step of the way across the great hall, but it faded abruptly when he skidded on a piece of apple peel and almost lost his balance.

  "AAAAAARGH!" roared Manfred.

  The hall was now empty except for Dr. Saltweather, who was stepping slowly down the main stairs with a newspaper under his arm and a baffled expression on his face.

  "It's that Vertigo girl again," Manfred shouted at Dr. Saltweather. "She's dropping apple peels all over the place. Something's got to be done about it."

  "Not my department," Dr. Saltweather mumbled. "I'm head of music." He sauntered off looking even more agitated than before.

  Manfred gave a groan of irritation and made for his office.

  Dr. Saltweather was now walking down t he corridor of portraits. He was so worried, he had for gotten where he was supposed to be going. His newspaper carried a rather unsettling report. Two people had vanished from a small town in the northeast. Normally this sort of news would cause Dr. Saltweather a mere flutter of concern; he had a kind heart and even the misfortunes of total strangers affected him. But today's news was altogether more disturbing.

  The two men in question were a headmaster called Tantalus Wright and a postman whose name was Vincent Ebony This could have been a coincidence, of course, but it was the men's peculiar habits that caused Dr. Saltweather to find their disappearance too sinister to be mere coincidence. The headmaster's special subject was medieval history and he suffered from narcolepsy In other words, he fell asleep without any warning, in the most unusual places, which caused the unfortunate man's students a great deal of mirth.

  Dr. Saltweather opened his newspaper and reread the small article inside the back page. "Mr. Vincent Ebony is a cheerful man with a great sense of humor. He laughs readily at the silliest jokes and is often to be heard singing Gershwin's Bess You Is My Woman Now. Mr. Ebony's wife, Bess, was too upset to comment."

  Both men had disappeared at the end of August near the small town of Yorwynde. Tantalus Wright, an avid hiker, never returned from his Sunday walk, and Vincent Ebony's van had been found abandoned at the edge of a small forest. There was no sign of the postman. The two men had been missing for three weeks.

  "It can't be! How can it? Two in one? Two in one!" Dr. Saltweather ambled on, shaking his head. He could hardly discuss the matter with the headmaster, as it was Dr. Bloor who had insisted on Tantalus Ebony's appointment. It was difficult to know exactly who was who in Bloor's Academy — or who was what, when it came to it.

  "Morning!" Cook brushed past Dr. Saltweather in the dark corridor. "You look troubled, Doctor."

  "Yes." Dr. Saltweather turned quickly and watched Cook hurry on up the corridor. He realized that she was the very person he could confide in. There was no doubt in his mind that Cook was on the right side, though he hardly knew what he meant by that.

  "Cook!" Dr. Saltweather called softly "Could I have a word?"

  Cook looked around, surprised by the doctor's furtive tone. "Of course, Doctor." She walked back to him.

  Dr. Saltweather smoothed out the back page of his newspaper and held it out to Cook, pointing at the small column near the bottom. "What do you think about that?"

  Cook quickly scanned the article and gasped. "What do I think?" she said tremulously. "I think it means trouble, Dr. Saltweather. Very bad trouble, especially for certain people in this city."

  "Like whom?" The doctor was intrigued.

  "Like Charlie Bone and his uncle," said Cook.

  “Ah." Dr. Saltweather stroked his chin. "Charlie wasn't in assembly today nor was little Billy Raven."

  "I've had word about him," said Cook, "but this" — she tapped the paper — "this is extremely serious. I must make a phone call immediately."

  "But, Cook, how can it be?" said Dr. Saltweather, now more baffled than ever. "Two people in one. How did it happen?"

  "Believe me, it can do that sort of thing," said Cook, hastening back in the direction from which shed come.

  "IT?" called Dr. Saltweather.

  "Yes, ‘IT,'" Cook replied, scurrying faster. "I'll explain another time. But right now, I must make a call. Thank you, Doctor, thank you. We have reason to be very, very grateful for this information." Her voice trailed off as she disappeared around a corner.

  Dr. Saltweather suddenly remembered that he should be attending a meeting in the Wind room with Mr. Paltry and Tantalus Ebony The head of music was late for his meeting, but when he got to the Wind room, Tantalus Ebony wasn't there.

  "He's not in school," said old Mr. Paltry picking his teeth with a matchstick. "Didn't you notice? He wasn 't in assembly."

  "No. No, I didn't." Dr. Saltweather felt foolish, anxious, and confused all at the same time. "I wish you wouldn't smoke," he said to the eldedy flutist. "It sets a bad example."

  "I don't smoke." Mr. Paltry slipped the match into his pocket.

  "I can smell it, Reginald," said Dr. Saltweather. "No wonder you're short of breath these days." He gave a sigh of irritation. "We'd better get on without Mr. Ebony."

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

  A breathless Cook hurried into the kitchen and picked up the receiver of a phone situated on the wall beside the swinging door. The kitchen staff was chattering together in the background, and Cook had no fear of being overheard. She quickly dialed a number and listened to the phone ringing at number nine
Filbert Street.

  "Yes?" said an irritated voice.

  Cook deepened her voice and, speaking like an old man, said, "I would like to speak to Mr. Paton Yewbeam."

  "He's not here," said Grandma Bone.

  "Mrs. Jones, then," said Cook. "She'll do."

  "What's this about?" demanded Grandma Bone.

  "Er . . . it's the dry cleaning. . . ."

  "Not my best coat? Black with a velvet collar." This was shouted so loudly Cook had to hold the receiver away from her ear.

  "No, no. The article in question is red and . . ."

  "Maisie, phone! Your clothes are in trouble." The receiver was dropped onto a table and Cook heard footsteps receding on a tiled floor. A moment later, Maisie's anxious voice said, "Yes? What's happened?"

  "Maisie, it's me, Cook. But don't let on," said Cook in her normal voice. "I wanted to speak to Mr. Yewbeam, but apparently he's out."

  "Not just out," said Maisie, lowering her voice. "Gone. Amy and I are very worried. He got news about Charlie, and then he and . . . and, you know, that Mr. Crowquill took off very early this morning."

  "Dear, oh dear." Cook didn't know what to make of this. "And have you any idea where they've gone?"

  Maisie put her mouth right over the receiver and whispered, "Castle of Mirrors."

  "Worse and worse. I fear someone else is on the way there, too. Have you any means of contacting Mr. Yewbeam?"

  "None," said Maisie. "He left his cell phone behind."

  A voice beside Maisie said, "Why are you whispering to the dry cleaner?"

  "Wasn't. Lost my voice. Tragedy with red cardigan." Maisie's voice became too faint for Cook to hear, but then it suddenly returned. "Thank you so much for informing me," she said to Cook. "I'll come by to pick up what's left of it later. Good-bye."

  Cook replaced the receiver. "Nothing to be done," she muttered.

  "I'd say there was quite a lot." One of the kitchen assistants came tripping up to Cook with a tray of burned pies. "We'll have to bake some more."