Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors

by Jenny Nimmo

  Billy's eyes were open now, and he couldn't wait to get out of the boat. With a loud splash, he landed beside Charlie, up to his waist in water.

  Relief made both of them giggle. They pulled the boat out of the water and up onto a grassy bank, shaking with laughter and shivering with cold.

  "We'll dry our clothes in the castle," said Charlie. "I don't want to arrive in just my underwear."

  "It's not as if the king will be there," Billy remarked with another giggle.

  It was just as well their shoes were dry as the ground was pitted with stones and thistles. According to The Book of Amadis, the fields around the castle had once been filled with well-tended crops. But now, coarse grass grew almost waist high. It was like moving through a prickly sea.

  The ground began to slope up to a rocky hill dotted with small misshapen trees. Rising above the trees, the blazing glass walls of the castle cut into the blue sky in strange, jagged points. If there were any windows in the mysterious building they were made of mirrored glass, for nothing resembling a window could be seen.

  The boys began to walk through the leafless windblown trees while the sun warmed their backs and dried their clothes. Closer and closer, they moved toward, the castle. Higher and higher. Charlie found that he was trembling with apprehension. A lump had formed in his throat and he couldn't trust himself to speak.

  All at once, Billy raced up to the castle. He touched the shining walls and said breathlessly "It really is made of glass."

  Charlie drew up beside him. "But where's the door?"

  They scrambled around the castle, searching for a way in, but seeing only themselves reflected in the mirrored walls. The castle was far larger than Charlie had imagined. He realized that they had only reached the outer walls. Inside there must be a large courtyard and then the keep. He could just see the top of a tall glass tower some distance from the walls.

  They had almost reached the point where they had started when Billy a few meters ahead of Charlie, suddenly disappeared.

  Charlie stumbled forward crying, "Billy where are you?"

  "Here!" came a voice.

  Almost at his feet, Charlie noticed a hole that had previously been covered with coarse scrub. He knelt down and, peering inside, could just make out Billy's pale face smiling up at him.

  "It's OK," said Billy "There's a passage and I can see a light at the end."

  Charlie climbed into the hole and slid into the darkness. It was very exhilarating flying over such a shining, slippery surface, but landing on hard rock at the bottom was a bit of a shock.

  "Ouch!" Charlie stood up and banged his head on the low ceiling. "Ouch again!" He was standing in a tiny underground space with barely enough room for two.

  "Look, look!" Billy demanded. "A passageway."

  Charlie turned sideways and saw a shadowy gap in the rock. He leaned down and looked inside. A narrow tunnel led toward a distant gleam of light. "That's not a passageway it's a tunnel," said Charlie.

  "Same thing."

  "It's not. We'll have to crawl."

  "Let's crawl, then." Billy dropped to his knees and began to crawl along the tunnel. His reluctance to visit the castle had vanished and he was now even more enthusiastic than Charlie.

  They were halfway down the tunnel when Charlie began to hear the sound of a piano. His heart beat faster and yet he hesitated before climbing out of the tunnel. He was afraid of what he might see. When he finally emerged from the dark, he found himself in a vast courtyard, covered with shining stones. The music came from a square tower in the center. A flight of narrow steps led up to an arched door in the tower; both the door and the steps were made of coarse black glass.

  The steps were as rough as sandpaper and easy to climb. Billy went first and when they reached the top, he knocked politely on the door.

  The music stopped but no one appeared. Charlie cautiously pushed the door and it swung inward. Together, the boys stepped into the room beyond.

  Charlie's first sight of the man inside was a fragmented reflection, for the room was walled in rectangles of misty glass and its occupant stood behind him. Very slowly, Charlie turned. He saw a man of medium height with dark hair and large green eyes. He had a long, aquiline nose and a wide mouth. His skin was sallow and he looked as if he had spent a long lime indoors. There was something familiar about the man and it gave Charlie a surge of hope.

  The stranger smiled tentatively "What have you brought me?" he asked.

  "Nothing." Charlie was puzzled. "Were you expecting something?"

  "Sometimes they send food." The man sat down on a rickety-looking chair and sighed. “A boy brings it from the mainland."

  Aware that his father had lost his memory Charlie asked, "What do they call you, sir?"

  "I am called Albert Tuccini but, of course, that is not my real name."

  "Do you . . . do you know your real name?"

  Albert Tuccini shook his head. "I cannot help you there."

  Charlie took a step closer to the man. "I think I know you, sir."

  The man lowered his head. "Many people know me. I was a famous pianist."

  "Then why are you here, sir?" asked Billy.

  “Ah." Albert Tuccini put a finger to his lips. "It's not sale for me outside. I do not belong here, you see. I have lost my country my home, and my name."

  Charlie thought he detected a foreign accent in Albert's speech, but he told himself that this could be explained by the man not knowing who he was. He went up to Albert Tuccini and touched his shoulder. "I think I know your real name, sir. Maybe I can help you to remember."

  "Yes?" A little gleam of hope lit the man's sad, green eyes.

  "I think your name is Lyell Bone."

  "Lyell Bone," the man repeated. "It is a good name."

  “And I'm Charlie, your son," said Charlie in a rush.

  Billy pulled his sleeve. "You don't know that," he said in a low voice.

  "I do," said Charlie. "I'm sure of it."

  The man looked puzzled. "Son?" he said doubtfully. "It's not possible."

  "Yes, yes!" cried Charlie, utterly convinced that this was indeed his father. “And now that I've found you, everything's going to be all right. I'll take you home, and you'll meet Uncle Paton again. Remember him? Paton Yewbeam."

  "Paton?" the man repeated. "I remember Yewbeam. It was Miss Yewbeam who brought me here. Miss Eustacia Yewbeam. It is she who sometimes brings food."

  "Of course!" Charlie was so excited he could hardly keep still. "There are three Miss Yewbeams. They're my great-aunts, and I know they made you disappear."

  The man said, "Well, well," and shook his head. "Please, will you call me Albert for now? I am used to it."

  "Just for now, then," Charlie agreed.

  Billy suddenly said, "I can't live in this place! Not if the Yewbeams come here."

  Charlie realized that for Billy the situation was as bad as ever. "We'll find somewhere else," he told Billy "soon as we can."

  But while they had been talking, there had been a dramatic change in the weather. A northerly wind had begun to howl around the castle, and flurries of hail beat upon the glass walls. A journey across the sea would be too dangerous. They would have to wait until the storm died down.

  Albert offered to give the boys a meal. Lifting the lid of a large oak chest, he took out several cans and emptied them into a saucepan. A small paraffin stove stood in the corner of the room and Albert proceeded to heat the food. When this was done Billy and Charlie were handed two bowls of baked beans and two spoons.

  "I will use the saucepan," their host said cheerfully dipping a wooden spoon into the remaining beans. "Food from a can can be very good, yes?"

  "Yes," said Charlie, wondering if his father lived entirely on beans.

  The boys sat on a straw mat that partially covered the hard glass floor and Mr. Tuccini sat on the only chair. While he ate, Charlie looked around the mirrored room. It was sparsely furnished. Against one wall was a mattress with a pile of blankets on t
op of it. A battered suitcase stood beside the mattress, and Charlie assumed it held all its owner's possessions, for there were none to be seen, except for a few books, some plates and spoons, and a pile of paper sitting on a round table. Beneath the table was a large bowl, a jug, and several jars. A windup gramophone had been placed on the floor just inside the door.

  On one side of the door, a flight of steep steps led farther up the tower. Billy had been staring at these steps while he ate; in fact, he couldn't take his eyes off them. "Where do they go?" he asked, nodding at them.

  "They lead up to the walls of history," said Albert. "I have been there but the walls tell me nothing. Sometimes, I hear laughter and singing, a word or two that I cannot understand and — sounds that I do not wish to tell."

  "Ghosts?" asked Charlie.

  "Maybe," said Albert evasively

  "I would like to go up there," said Billy

  But when they had finished their meal, the boys' eyes began to close and soon they were fast asleep.

  When Charlie woke up, the mirrored room sparkled with reflected candlelight. He was lying under a blanket with Billy beside him, still sleeping.

  "You were tired," said Albert, looking down at Charlie. "You have had a long journey."

  "Very long," said Charlie. "I'll tell you about it if you like."

  "I would like it very much. To hear a voice is so good." Albert came and sat at the edge of the mat.

  Before Charlie described his journey with Queen Berenice, he felt that Albert should know something about the children of the Red King and Bloor's Academy Albert turned his head a little when Charlie mentioned Bloor's, as if the name struck a chord somewhere. But after this, Charlie's listener sat very still, regarding Charlie with a look of thoughtful concentration.

  “I suppose it all sounds a bit difficult to believe," said Charlie when he reached the part where the white moth had discovered the boat.

  "Nothing is improbable to one who cannot remember his own life," said Albert with a rueful smile. "And see, there is your moth."

  Charlie saw the moth sitting close to Billy's white head.

  "It was there all the while you slept," Albert told Charlie, "as though on guard."

  Billy woke up and automatically felt for his glasses. He could see very little without them and he always felt lost until they were perched firmly on his nose.

  "I thought I'd been dreaming," said Billy sitting up. "But it's all true, isn't it?"

  "It's true. We're in the Castle of Mirrors," said Charlie.

  Billy immediately looked for the stairway beside the door. “And I was going to go up there, wasn't I? Really it's more like I feel that I've got to go up there." He threw off his blanket and stood up, still gazing at the stairway It seemed to draw him like a magnet.

  "I'll come with you," said Charlie.

  Albert handed Billy one of the many candles that stood in empty cans all around the room. "You will need this," he said. "It's dark up there."

  "My ancestors lived here," said Billy proudly, "and Charlie thinks I might be able to see them. I was frightened yesterday, but not anymore." He marched over to the stairway and began to climb. Charlie followed more slowly.

  The steps were unevenly spaced and rough underfoot. Charlie found them hard to climb. The stairway wound upward, becoming steeper and narrower all the time. Charlie lost sight of Billy but he could hear his light footsteps hastening up the tower. The candlelight grew fainter as Billy drew ahead; soon Charlie only heard the tap of Billy's feet to guide him. "Billy I can't see!" he shouted.

  Billy had reached the walls of history. He was hardly aware of the shout from below, and Charlie had to grope his way up the steps and into the extraordinary room at the top. Here, the mirrored panes of glass that formed the wall reflected Billy's white hair, his gleaming glasses, and the flickering candle in a hundred different places. When Charlie stood beside the smaller boy, his reflection looked faint and shadowy.

  They're coming," Billy whispered. He stood entranced, staring at the glass wall.

  Charlie began to make out indistinct forms drifting behind Billy's reflection. "What can you see?" he asked softly

  "People," said Billy in a hushed voice. "A whole family. A man in — sort of armor — but his helmet's off. And a blond lady, laughing. They're sitting at a table and — eating, yes, it's a feast. They're hungry and happy. One of them is like me — just like me. Can you hear them, Charlie?"

  "No. Nothing."

  "I can hear names. And someone singing."

  "What names?" asked Charlie.

  "The blond lady called the man Amadis — and she called the boy like me Owain. And then Amadis said, “gain, Amoret. I love that song.'"

  “Amoret!" cried Charlie.

  "Shhh! You'll frighten them away"

  “Amoret?" said Charlie, lowering his voice. “Are you sure he said Amoret?"

  "Yes," Billy whispered. "The lady singing is Amoret. She has black hair and she's very beautiful."

  Charlie stared at the walls of history stared and stared, willing himself to sec someone, anyone who could draw him in. At last, he began to hear distant singing and he found himself floating toward a pale face framed by dark curls.

  "Charlie!" cried Billy "You're not going in, are you? Don't! Don't! You'll never get out!"

  THE BLACK YEW

  Charlie struggled like a swimmer underwater. Traveling toward a reflection was very different from entering a painting or a photograph. Amoret's face kept disappearing. It was almost as if she were trying to send him back.

  But Charlie wouldn't let go. He fought his way forward, pushing the heavy air aside, kicking at the bonds that held him back. At last, he broke into a room where a woman stood clutching two children. Prince Amadis had gone and Amoret was looking straight at Charlie.

  "Go," cried Amoret. "Whoever you are, you must go!"

  And now Charlie became aware of the terrible sounds outside the room. The boom of rocks on a heavy door, the hiss of arrows, the screams and moans of battle. He floated out into the courtyard, and in the midst of a panic-stricken crowd, he saw a small white-haired boy with a raven on his shoulder. The boy darted toward a well and climbed inside. The next moment the castle walls burst into flames and Charlie was surrounded by a wall of fire.

  "Help! Help!" Charlie screamed.

  Something held him down. He couldn't escape, couldn't breathe.

  There was an earsplitting crack, followed by the sound of splintering glass. It reminded Charlie of Uncle Paton's accidents, and he immediately felt reassured. Was he safe at home?

  "Charlie! Charlie, come back!" called a distant voice.

  Charlie blinked and found himself looking at a cracked mirror with lights dancing on every tiny pane. Broken glass lay all around him, glittering like tinsel.

  "Charlie?" Billy stood before him, holding a candle. “re you back?"

  Charlie blinked again and shook himself. "Yes, I'm back."

  "Mr. Tuccini had to break the glass. We thought you were trapped in the wall of history."

  "It seemed the only way to get you out." Albert Tuccini peered down at Charlie. "It is a strange thing you do, this traveling. Not always good, I fear."

  "No, not always," Charlie admitted. "But I just had to go in this time, because my ancestor Amoret is in there, too. She must have been in the castle when it was set on fire, before it turned to glass. But where were her children?"

  "It is not possible always to find an answer," said Albert a little sadly. "Come. You have experienced some bad things. You must rest."

  "The wall of history is broken, and it's all my fault," said Charlie ruefully

  "Only the surface," said Albert. "The walls are thick. They can withstand a lot more than my old shoe." He held up a black shoe, which he proceeded to put on his left foot, lacing it tightly before approaching the perilous staircase.

  When Charlie descended into Albert Tuccini's room, dawn light was beginning to steal through the glass walls. The storm had gone a
nd Albert announced that it would be a fine day. If they left soon, the tide would take them safely into the bay

  "You will come with us, won't you?" begged Charlie.

  Albert spread his hands. "I dare not."

  "But why? We'll keep you safe," Charlie declared. "You must come back, because of Mom — and everything."

  "I have a wife?" Albert looked stunned.

  "Of course. How do you think I got here?" said Charlie indignantly. He began to feel a rising panic. He'd found his father only to leave him in a place where he might never see him again. If Grandma Bone got to know about Charlie's visit to the island, the Yewbeams were sure to move his father somewhere even more inaccessible.

  It was Billy who convinced Albert that he must come with them. "We can't row the boat on our own," he said, his eyes huge with anxiety. "We need you, Mr. Tuccini. Charlie's not strong enough to row all the way back again."

  Albert scratched his curly hair. "Very well. Maybe it is the right thing for me to do." He led the boys out of the tower and across the courtyard to a door set in the glass walls. One push and a panel of glass swung open. When they had all stepped out, Albert closed the panel. Now it was completely indistinguishable from the rest of the wall. "It can only be opened from the inside," Albert told the boys. "To enter one must use the chute."

  A vision of Aunt Eustacia sliding down the chute popped into Charlie's head, and he grinned to himself

  As they walked back to the shore, Charlie told Billy about the white-haired boy he'd seen climbing into the well. "That's how he survived," he told Billy "He climbed out after the fire, and somehow he got to the mainland and traveled all the way to the middle of Europe with his raven. That's where your name comes from. And your guardian, Christopher Crowquill — his ancestor was your ancestor's brother."

  "Maybe I can live with Christopher Crowquill," said Billy hopefully

  Charlie was silent. Poor Christopher was in as much danger as Billy. He couldn't possibly look after him. "Uncle Paton will know what to do," Charlie mumbled.

  Albert Tuccini strode ahead of the boys. He told them that he walked to the shore every day. "For exercise, you know," he shouted back to them. "To fill my lungs and keep my limbs in shape."