Children of the Red King Book 05 Charlie Bone and the Hidden King

by Jenny Nimmo

  Where will all this end? he wondered gloomily as he climbed the dark stairs. His fingers closed over the scrap of parchment in his pocket and he remembered that there might be hope, if the king could be found.

  At Bloor's Academy a whole day passed in which neither Mr. nor Mrs. Brown was seen. Charlie began to

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  hope that Benjamin's parents had changed their minds. Perhaps, after all, they couldn't bring themselves to spy on children.

  In the King's room that evening no one said a word. They all worked with heads down, never meeting anyone else's eye. It was as though a silent truce had been declared, though Charlie knew it wouldn't last long. Joshua, Dorcas, and the twins were merely biding their time, gathering their strength. As for Manfred, someone was going to have to pay for his horribly scarred face.

  Asa was not in his usual seat beside Manfred. He was sitting slightly apart from the others. Ever since the shadow had arrived Asa had seemed nervous and ill at ease. Just like some of the animals, thought Charlie.

  After homework, Charlie caught up with Tancred and Lysander before they went up to their dormitory. "Could we meet somewhere tomorrow?" Charlie asked in a whisper. "I need your advice, well, your help, really."

  "Art room, before supper." Lysander glanced down

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  the hallway. "Manfred's coming," he said in a low voice.

  Charlie stepped back. Night, Sander, 'night, Tanc!" he called as the two older boys strode away.

  Charlie knew he wasn't going to escape that easily. The next moment he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was so hot, Charlie winced with pain. "Ow!" He looked up into Manfred's pitted face.

  "Go on, take a good look," said Manfred. "Pretty, isn't it? Your uncle's responsible for these." Manfred touched two of the larger scars with his finger.

  Given the tricky situation, Charlie should have sympathized; instead, he blundered, "It was your own fault."

  "My fault?" Manfred dug his fist into Charlie's shoulder.

  Charlie twisted away. The pain was agonizing. It felt as though a hot poker had been plunged into his shoulder blade. "Ouch! What is that?"

  "I've told you before, call me sir." Manfred raised his hands, palms outward. "That is pain, Charlie Bone.

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  Two hands full of pain. Don't tempt me to use them again."

  Charlie stared at Manfred's back as the tall, bony youth walked away. So Manfred had a new endowment. He was becoming like Borlath, the Red King's eldest son who killed with fire. Better pass the news along, thought Charlie.

  The following evening Fidelio offered to keep Billy distracted while the others met in the art room. It wasn't that they didn't trust Billy. If too many of the endowed were missing, someone might become suspicious. As it was, they were a little wary of using the art room for a meeting. It was possible that Dorcas and Joshua might come barging in. Both were in art, although neither of them appeared to be very enthusiastic about it.

  Charlie was the last one to get to the meeting. He had just managed to slip out of the dormitory, while Fidelio and Billy were arguing with Bragger Braine about the superiority of rats over hamsters.

  He found the others sitting on the floor beside the

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  long windows that overlooked the garden. They were hidden from view by one of Emma's large bird paintings, a particularly fine one, Charlie observed in the light of Lysander's new hurricane lamp.

  "Olivia told us about the wall," said Lysander as Charlie knelt beside him.

  "And the bees," added Tancred with a grin.

  "I reckon they saved my life," said Charlie.

  "We'll keep an eye on you from now on, Charlie," said Gabriel. "That little Tilpin has certainly got it in for you."

  Lysander had brought a notebook with him. He suggested they should work out a rotation, so that Charlie would never be left alone during break. "We'll begin with first break tomorrow, Thursday." He laid the book open on the floor and wrote "Thursday" at the top of the first page.

  "Sander," Charlie said tentatively, "it's not me I'm worried about."

  "Well, you should be," said Tancred.

  "I know, and of course, I am a bit scared, but it's

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  my mom I'm really worried about. Somehow I have to get the Mirror of Amoret. If I don't, I... I...

  "If you don't?" Emma asked gently.

  "I think the shadow will take her out of the world. He can travel with the mirror, like me. My mom's already under his spell; she's forgotten my father's face; she's never at home; last time I saw her, she looked right through me, as if I didn't exist."

  Charlie's friends looked so appalled he almost wished he could take back his words. Horror seemed to have robbed them all of speech, until Olivia said, "I'll do it!"

  They all looked at her and Lysander asked, "Do what?"

  "I'll get the mirror," Olivia said brightly.

  "You don't even know where it is," said Tancred.

  "It'll be wherever he is, won't it?" Olivia said in a practical voice. "Charlie says Count Harken is the new owner of Kingdom's. Well, I know for a fact that the old owner lived in a fabulous penthouse at the top of the store. So that's probably where the count lives."

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  "So what are you going to do? Take the mirror from under his very nose?" said Tancred. "That is, if you can get into his very exclusive penthouse, which is probably guarded night and day by two heavy henchmen."

  "Don't scoff, Tancred Torsson," Olivia said hotly. "Obviously I'll wait until the count is out of the way. He's bound to take Charlie's mom for a weekend jaunt in that fancy limo."

  "You're going to look a bit out of place in Kingdom's, Liv," Charlie remarked. "I'm not saying you're not smart or anything, but...

  "That's where Mom comes in." Olivia's gray eyes glittered with excitement. "She's been dying to do something like this. She's had such rotten stage parts lately. We'll have a ball. Trust me. She can look incredibly glamorous. The assistants at Kingdom's will be falling over themselves to make her happy. I'll just slip away while they're all bowing and scraping."

  There was a pause while they all digested Olivia's plan.

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  "I think it's a brilliant idea," Emma said at last.

  Everyone agreed.

  "There's just one more thing," said Lysander. "Where are you going to take the mirror when, and if, you get it?"

  "Home," said Olivia. "Charlie can meet me there."

  "I think we'll stick around, too." Lysander looked at Tancred and Gabriel.

  "You're on," said Tancred.

  Gabriel nodded vehemently.

  They all got to their feet, stretching their arms and shaking their cramped legs. But Lysander wouldn't let them go before he had organized a rotation for watching Charlie. Every minute of every break was accounted for. Fidelio would be told about his part in the scheme as soon as they could get him alone.

  Charlie was a little uncomfortable about the whole arrangement. It was embarrassing to think he couldn't take care of himself. Nevertheless, it was good to know that every time he stepped outside he wouldn't be alone.

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  Olivia's plan was fraught with danger. There were so many ways in which it could go wrong, and yet as the weekend drew closer, Charlie's spirits rose ever higher. It had to work. To fail was unthinkable.

  No one knew what to do about Billy. He didn't want to spend yet another weekend alone at Bloor's, but Charlie's house was not a pleasant place to be, with a frozen granny in the bathtub and a mother in thrall to an enchanter. Besides, no one could think how Billy's endowment could help in such a
dangerous enterprise. He would only get in the way.

  "Billy can stay with me," said Emma. "I don't think I'm going to be much use, either."

  Billy was very excited at the prospect of spending the weekend at Ingledew's. There were no dogs to chase Rembrandt, only a friendly duck to talk to. And Emma's aunt was an excellent cook.

  At eleven thirty on Saturday morning, Amy Bone emerged from her room at the top of the house. Charlie wouldn't have heard her light footsteps if he

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  hadn't been waiting for them. When she reached the bottom of the first staircase, Charlie stepped out onto the landing.

  Amy's appearance left Charlie speechless. She wore a glistening fur coat and her hair was as smooth as yellow silk. Two large pearls hung from her ears and her nails were a vivid green. Charlie's heart missed a beat when he saw that her wedding ring had gone. In its place a huge emerald sparkled on her finger.

  "Where are you going, Mom?" he asked in a strangled voice.

  "Just out." She descended the second flight of stairs in high heels that made her bounce like a wave.

  Charlie followed her but she left the house without a word, without a backward glance. Charlie ran into the kitchen and stared dismally out the window as the gold limousine pulled away from the curb. For a moment he was too dismayed to move; then, remembering that this was the moment he'd been waiting for, he ran into the hall and phoned Olivia.

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  "Hi!" came her cheery voice.

  "Mom just went out," said Charlie. "She was with..." He paused with his mouth open as Grandma Bone walked out of the sitting room. "I didn't know you were in, Grandma!"

  "Didn't you? Who are you calling?"

  "Hello! Hello!" Olivia's voice came bubbling out of the phone. All those drama lessons had given her a very clear, ringing voice. "Who's she gone out with, the..."

  Charlie put his hand over the earpiece. "It's my friend Olivia," he told Grandma Bone. "I was just asking her if I could go to lunch, because Mom went out, and I don't suppose there'll be much food around here."

  "You suppose right," said his grandmother. "Go on, ask her, then."

  Charlie lifted the receiver closer to his mouth. "Urn, as I said, Mom went out - in a very fancy car." He grinned at Grandma Bone. "So could I come over for lunch? My grandma, who's here, says it's OK."

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  "Got it," said Olivia in an excited undertone. "Mom and I are ready to go. See you, Charlie."

  "You'd better get your coat," said Grandma Bone as she drifted back into the living room. "It looks like snow."

  Uncle Paton had already been told of the plan, and although he worried about the danger if things should go wrong, he agreed that it would have to be attempted if Charlie were not to lose his mother altogether.

  Charlie snatched his coat from his room and popped his head around Uncle Paton's door. "Mom went out with you-know-who, so it's all systems go," he told his uncle.

  Paton looked up from his desk. "Good luck!" he said. "I'll be waiting."

  Mrs. Vertigo decided to wear a tight red leather coat and high-heeled black boots. A red velvet beret and large gold bag completed her outfit. She looked stunning. Olivia, however, didn't want to be too

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  conspicuous. Today she would play the shy, young daughter. Casually dressed in jeans and a navy peacoat, and with her hair restored to its natural light brown, she looked the picture of innocence.

  "You've got your cell phone, haven't you?" Mrs. Vertigo asked her daughter as they approached Kingdom's.

  "In my pocket," said Olivia.

  "Promise to contact me if you're in trouble."

  "Of course."

  "This is so exciting." Olivia's mother gave the two Kingdom's doormen a radiant smile and they sprang into action, pulling open the door as wide as they could.

  Olivia and Mrs. Vertigo stepped into the sweetly scented, velvety-shadowed, and incredibly crowded store.

  "The sales!" Mrs. Vertigo exclaimed. "Oh, Liv, what fun. Let's start with scarves, shall we?"

  Olivia followed her mother across to the colorful display of scarves. Mrs. Vertigo began to enjoy herself.

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  She had brought four lipsticks in shades varying from palest pink to deepest red. "I want a scarf to match each of these colors," she told the sales clerk. "They must be silk, naturally, not too square and not too long and, hopefully, half price." She fluttered her false eyelashes.

  As a group of nicely dressed shoppers pressed around her mother, grumbling impatiently, Olivia slipped away. Pushing through the crowds of bargain hunters, she reached the elevator and jumped in just before the door closed. An elderly couple smiled at her from the other side of the elevator. They were both dressed in brown-checkered coats and felt hats.

  "Two?" inquired the man in a foreign accent.

  "Two?" said Olivia.

  "Second," explained the elderly woman, nudging her husband. "He get it wrong always. My English better."

  "No, thank you. Not second," said Olivia.

  The man tried again. "Tree, four?" His fingers hovered over the display panel.

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  "Toys," said Olivia.

  "Ah, toys," sighed the man. "I wish."

  "Quick, Herman. We go. Bye-bye."

  The elevator door opened and the couple tottered out, the woman waving feebly and Herman still muttering forlornly about toys.

  Alone at last, Olivia pressed a button with no number and the elevator sailed to the top of the building. When the door opened she peeked out. A few yards away a large man sat reading a newspaper. His feet were lost in a sea of black fur that extended all the way to the end of a long passage. Beside the man a white-paneled door bore an inscription in bronze: NOBLE.

  Olivia thought fast. The elevator door began to close. She pressed the button again. As the door slid open, a loud tweeting could be heard. The man grunted, flung down his newspaper, and ran to the end of the hall, where a bird flapped around the light fixture.

  Olivia leaped out of the elevator and raced to the

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  door marked NOBLE. It was not locked. She slipped inside and closed it softly behind her.

  Ankle-deep in white fur, Olivia gazed around the extraordinary apartment. "No time for gawking, Liv," she whispered to herself as she took in the pony-skin sofa, the ivory tables, and the horribly real-looking stuffed birds.

  There were two doors leading out of the fur-carpeted sitting room. Olivia tried the nearest. It opened into a vast walk-in closet. Every garment was either green or furry. There was a long mirror on the wall, but no sign of a small, ancient one. Olivia backed out.

  The second door led into a room that was far more promising. A huge four-poster bed stood in the center. It was curtained in thick tapestries and looked hundreds of years old.

  How on earth did they get that up here? Olivia wondered. The great bed had the look of an illusion, something Olivia herself might have conjured up. All at once, she had her answer. The bed was conjured up. So was the

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  blackened chest of drawers standing against the wall and the small table by the window. They were not illusions but ancient objects brought here by magic.

  A large wooden chair stood in the corner. It looked immensely old with its high curved back and thick worm-eaten arms. Olivia had seen such a chair in the local museum.

  Where did the count keep the mirror? Perhaps he never let it out of his sight. The table was bare and the chair didn't even have a cushion on it. Olivia approached the bed. There was nothing under the pillows or between the starched white sheets. She went to the chest of drawers. Starting at the top, she pul
led out the drawers, one by one.

  Empty, empty, empty. Olivia's heart sank. She had to kneel on the floor to pull out the last drawer. It squeaked and shivered as she tugged at the handles, but it would only open a few inches. Olivia thrust her arm in and felt around. Her fingers touched something smooth and flat, right at the back. Slowly, she eased it forward and pulled it out of the drawer.

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  It shouldn't come as a surprise when something you hope to find turns up in a place where you half expect it to be. But Olivia was so stunned by her discovery, she had to sit back on her heels and take several deep breaths before she could bring herself to examine the object on her lap.

  It was a mirror, very ancient, by the look of it. The circle of glass, if you could call it glass, was set in a delicate golden frame. Intricate patterns had been worked into the gold: leaves and birds and tiny dancing creatures with jeweled eyes. The handle was a long oval of twisted gold and silver, and when Olivia held it, she felt a throbbing warmth travel through her body. Slowly, she brought the mirror up to her face. There was no reflection. "Am I a vampire, then?" Olivia asked herself, squinting into the glass. "Where am I?"

  A fine mist swirled across the surface of the glass but try as she might, Olivia could see nothing behind the mist. Remembering the danger of her mission, she quickly pushed back the drawer and slipped the mirror into her coat pocket. She had forgotten to

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  make her bird disappear and wondered if the guard had discovered, by now, that it was merely an illusion. She would have to create something more dramatic if she was to distract him a second time. Closing her eyes, she thought of smoke rising out of the black carpet. She didn't forget to add the smell of burning fur, which she had to imagine, never having smelled it before.

  Tiptoeing through the apartment, she put her ear to the main door. A distant sound of swearing and stamping reached her ears. Holding her breath, Olivia eased open the door, slipped out, and closed it softly. The smoke illusion had worked. At the far end of the hall the terrified guard was jumping on the smoldering carpet with both feet. As soon as one smoking patch vanished, another appeared.

  Olivia rushed to the elevator and pressed the button. The elevator was busy. She pressed again, again, and again. The guard took a break from his attack on the carpet. He rubbed his head and looked down the hall. Olivia shrank against the elevator door. With a