by Jenny Nimmo
Miss Chrystal had turned a corner, and now Charlie had lost sight of his friends. "I'm stupid, stupid, stupid!" He stamped his foot on the step.
"You couldn't have known," said Olivia. "Who would have thought that little beast would turn up?"
"I should have been on my guard." Charlie banged his fist against his forehead. "They saw you at Kingdom's. They were bound to follow. What am I going to do?"
"Tancred and Lysander are big boys," Mrs. Vertigo said soothingly. "Nice long legs. They're bound to catch the puny one."
They waited. Waited and waited, never moving from the step. Twenty minutes later, Charlie saw Lysander and Tancred tramping back up the road.
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They looked exhausted. Charlie knew immediately that they had lost Joshua.
"We didn't lose him," panted Tancred. "We chased him to the park, but before we could catch him, a green figure slipped out of the trees, grabbed the mirror, and vanished."
"I felt like teaching the little squirt a lesson," muttered Lysander. "But what good would it have done?"
"The count will use it as soon as he can now," Charlie said wretchedly. "My mom could be waiting for him. She doesn't know what she's doing. By the time I get home she could be gone."
"Hold on, Charlie," said Gabriel. "The mirror cracked when it fell onto the road. I heard it. Maybe it won't work."
"I heard it, too." Olivia grabbed Charlie's arm. "Don't give up, Charlie. If the mirror's broken, the shadow can't travel."
"Maybe," Charlie said gloomily.
They agreed to meet later at the Pets' Cafe.
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Animals would have to be collected, parents contacted, and another plan devised.
As the four boys walked down the road, Charlie noticed the large plastic bag Gabriel was carrying. In all the excitement the red cloak had been forgotten.
"Gabriel!" Charlie stopped dead. "That cloak you were wearing... was it...?"
The others came to a halt and Tancred said, "You didn't have time to tell Charlie, Gabe."
"Dad gave it to me," Gabriel said with an awkward smile. "He said I might find it useful. It's been in the family for ages, apparently."
"But, Gabe, did the cloak tell you anything?" Charlie demanded.
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact." Gabriel glanced at his watch. "Look, I've got to dash, Mom's waiting for me at the library."
"You're not going anywhere without us," said Tancred.
"Not with that cloak," Lysander added.
Charlie watched his three friends cross the road,
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still talking. When they got to the other side, they called, "See you later!"
Charlie raised his hand and ran home.
Number nine was eerily quiet. Charlie went upstairs and knocked on his uncle's door.
"Come in, Charlie!"
Uncle Paton looked over his glasses as Charlie leaped into the room. "Did you get it?"
Charlie stumbled over to his uncle's saggy armchair and dropped into it. "We got it," he said, "and then we lost it."
"What!" Paton tore off his glasses and swiveled around from his desk. "Please explain."
As clearly and steadily as he could, Charlie recounted every detail of the sensational events, but when it came to the most important detail of all, he couldn't hide his fear, and his voice shook with emotion.
"You saw your father." Paton leaped to his feet. "And you say that, all this time, he's been in Bloor's
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Academy? A piano teacher called Mr. Pilgrim? Whose depraved idea can it have been to keep him almost under our very noses?"
"Manfred's, I expect," said Charlie dismally. "Or Ezekiel's. Imagine, I talked to my very own father without knowing who he was. I bet they got a kick out of that."
"Don't worry, Charlie. It's all over now," Paton said briskly. "We'll have him out of there in no time."
"You don't seem to understand, Uncle Paton. He still doesn't know who he is. He's so weak, nearly dead. If he gets out and finds Mom gone, then what's the use?" Charlie gave a terrible sigh. "It's Mom we have to save first."
Paton clapped a hand to his pocket. "The spell!" he declared. "Idiot that I am. I forgot it." He pulled a ragged scrap of parchment from his pocket.
"Spell?" said Charlie dubiously.
"Read it." His uncle thrust the parchment into his hands.
Charlie looked at Skarpo's sweeping black script.
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He read the words once, twice, and then, to help him make sense of it, he read the spell aloud.
"Look to the forest, if ye seek the Kinge, for he is hidden there,
His robes are now but autumn leaves, his teares like ripened fruit,
Bloodred they fall and ne'er shall cease
Untille his children, ten of them, with lesse than twenty yeare,
Shalle meete in harmonic
And thrice they must walke, their fingers twined,
Around the Kinge, around, around, untille his teares are clear again,
Teares to wake the wandering souls
To keep them safe and bring them home.
Charlie continued to stare at the spell as he said, "It sounds as if the king is a tree."
"There's no doubt of it," his uncle agreed.
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"Skarpo found this in Bartholomew's diary, but where did it come from?" said Charlie.
"From the descendants of someone who helped the king become what he is now," said Paton.
"I think it was meant for the children who had to leave the castle, because the others were so evil." Charlie looked up at his uncle.
"It was also meant for their descendants," said Uncle Paton.
"And do you really think it could help my father?"
"It's all we have. And look at the words: Teares towake the wandering souls, To keep them safe and bring them home."
"There are only seven of us. It says here ten children must meet."
"I've been thinking about that," said his uncle. "There's your new little friend, for a start."
"Naren!" Charlie exclaimed. "She hasn't sent me a message for ages. I'll have to find her."
"You also have to find the king," his uncle reminded him.
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AN OWL IN DANGER
Charlie wanted to go find Naren that very minute, but Uncle Paton insisted they discuss things calmly and sensibly.
The enchanter thought he had won; Miss Chrystal had revealed herself as a witch, so now she would hide herself away before deciding on her next move.
"I believe you are safe for a while," said Uncle Paton. "The opposition thinks you're beaten. They won't be suspicious unless you act hastily. Go find Naren, by all means, but take your time. Look a bit downhearted, if you can."
"Easy," said Charlie.
"And when you find the girl," his uncle continued, "tell her to come to the Pets' Cafe at four o'clock tomorrow."
"Not today?" asked Charlie. "Shouldn't we do something now, as soon as possible?"
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"Nothing is ready." Paton waved his hand dismissively. He reminded Charlie that first the king would have to be found. The ruin was the most likely place to look, but it was vast, crumbling, and overgrown. "His robes are autumn leaves," said Paton, "so they will be red and gold. Not so difficult to see when all the other trees are bare. But a bird's-eye view is what we need."
"Emma!" said Charlie. "She'll find the tree."
"Of course, little Emma, the bird."
"The king is supposed to be in a forest," Cha
rlie pointed out.
"There are trees in the ruin," said his uncle, "and there are few real forests left." He began to pace around his untidy bed, wearing a deep frown of concentration.
Uncle Paton loved to take charge and Charlie thought it sad that his uncle's exploding endowment prevented him from taking a bigger role in worldly affairs.
"I have it!" Uncle Paton swung around with a
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triumphant smile. "It's all in here, Charlie." He tapped his forehead. "The plan. I'm afraid Mr. Onimous will have to reveal his secret door to the other children, because that's the way you'll have to go to reach the ruin - through the passage beneath the old wall."
"Mr. Onimous will never let anyone in there," said Charlie. "He's terrified that the wrong people will find out about it. Suppose the Looms are in the cafe?"
"Our whiskery friend will have to be persuaded," Uncle Paton said firmly. "He'll also have to relax the rules about animals, just for a day. I'm sorry, but I just can't stand having gerbils rooting around in my pockets."
"You're coming too, Uncle P.?"
"Most certainly. And I'm hoping that all the other parents will be there, too. Protection, Charlie. The more the better."
"Animals are allergic to Mr. Torsson," said Charlie, entering into the spirit of things. "They find him too turbulent."
"No pets for Mr. T., then. I wonder if the judge
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could be persuaded. Now he would be an asset, make no mistake."
"Lysander said Judge Sage was at home today."
"I'll give him a buzz. And the Silks, I'm sure they'll be up for it. Plenty of animals there." Paton rubbed his hands together.
"We could get all the Gunns," said Charlie eagerly. "I know Fido's not endowed, but they're always excited to take part, even in unmusical things."
"Indeed, the Gunns." Paton did a sort of tap dance.
"And Mrs. Vertigo? Mr. Vertigo's in South America directing a very important movie."
"Hmmm. She's a bit of a drama queen, Mrs. Vertigo," Uncle Paton said doubtfully. "She does rather attract attention."
"But she's an actress," argued Charlie. "I know she could act dowdy if you wanted her to." He took a breath and added tentatively, "And then there's Bartholomew Bloor."
"Over to you, Charlie," Paton said abruptly. "I've no way of contacting him. You'd better be off now. And
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be here by five o'clock, please, or I'll come get you, explosions or not. Perish those streetlights."
When Charlie left the house he felt so optimistic, he almost forgot to look miserable. He had to abandon the effort altogether when Benjamin and Runner Bean came racing up to him. Charlie was so happy to see them he gave a whoop of joy and grabbed Benjamin's arm.
"Where are you going?" Benjamin asked. "Can I come? Please don't say no. Mom and Dad aren't working for the Bloors anymore, you know."
"I guessed," said Charlie. "I'm going to find someone special."
As they walked through the town, Charlie found himself talking almost nonstop. And in spite of Benjamin's wide, surprised eyes, his nervous little skips, and exclamations of horror, no one could have imagined the sensational events that Charlie was describing to him.
The afternoon sky was already growing dark. Flurries of sleet blew in their faces and by the time
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they reached the iron bridge an icy fog had drifted over the gorge, completely obliterating the wilderness on the other side. In his hurry to find Naren, Charlie had forgotten the danger.
"You'd better stay here," he told Benjamin, "or wait for me at the cafe. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Too late," said Benjamin as Runner Bean tore past them. "Looks like he knows where he's going."
"He does." Charlie grinned. "Come on, then."
It took even longer than Charlie expected. Once again the bridge was treacherous with icy dew. They walked in single file, Benjamin stepping carefully into Charlie's footprints, both clinging tightly to the rusty rail. When they got to the other side, Runner Bean led them straight to the little house in the clearing. Naren was about to go into the house with an armful of logs when she saw them. She threw down the logs, ran to Charlie, and gave him a hug.
"This is Naren," Charlie told Benjamin. "And this is
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my friend Benjamin, who's Runner Bean's real master," he told Naren.
Naren invited them into the house, but the door opened suddenly and Bartholomew Bloor stood there, looking very annoyed. "I thought I told you not to come here again," he said to Charlie. "And you've brought someone with you, that's unforgivable."
"I'm sorry, sir," Charlie said lightly. "I had to come because Naren's messages..."
"I told Naren to stop," Bartholomew said impatiently. "The shadow was becoming aware of your nightly conversations. I didn't want Naren's messages to betray our whereabouts."
"I thought it was something like that. But, Mr. Bloor, I had to come. You see, it's the spell that was in your diaries."
"What spell?"
Charlie pulled the scrap of parchment from his pocket and passed it to the explorer. Benjamin was, by now, hopping from foot to foot and blowing on
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his hands to keep them warm. But Bartholomew didn't invite them into the house. He listened to Charlie's story impassively, looked at the spell, and then said, "I will bring Naren, of course. I would do anything for your father."
"And will you stay?" asked Charlie. "My uncle Paton says that if we fill the Pets' Cafe with parents, it will be a kind of protection."
Bartholomew thrust the spell into Charlie's hands. "Your uncle is full of fine ideas. He should have put them into action years ago, or your father wouldn't be where he is."
"Don't say things like that about my uncle," Charlie said furiously. "I trust him more than anyone else in the world. You're a nasty, unforgiving person, Mr. Bloor, just like the rest of your family. If you don't want to help us, suit yourself. We can do without you."
A series of curious expressions fleetingly crossed Bartholomew's face: disbelief, anger, and pure shock. And last of all, a kind of terror.
Before the explorer could say another word,
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Charlie grabbed Benjamin's arm and dragged him away from the cottage.
"Wow, Charlie! How could you say those things?" whispered Benjamin.
"I don't know," Charlie admitted. "He's just so mean, that man. I hope I haven't blown it."
When they got to the gate, Charlie looked back. The explorer had gone but Naren was standing on the porch. She gave Charlie a cheerful wave and called, "I'll be there, Charlie. Four o'clock!"
The boys waved back and Runner Bean gave a hearty farewell bark.
They had a few scares on their second crossing of the bridge. Twice Benjamin slipped onto his knees, and then, when they were almost on the bank, Charlie lost his footing altogether. He clutched the railing with one hand, while Runner Bean grabbed his sleeve in his mouth and hauled him back again.
"Phew! I'm glad Runner came," said Charlie, crawling onto the wet grass.
They sat on the bank for a few minutes,
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telling each other how lucky they were to be alive. But Runner Bean was eager to be off again. Someone had mentioned the Pets' Cafe and he knew that Mrs. Onimous would give him a treat. She'd probably smother him in kisses as well, but it was a price worth paying for a few Nut-Pom sticks.
It was dark when Runner Bean raced the two boys down Frog Street. Norton, the bouncer, was just closing the door of the Pets' Cafe, but he opened it again when Charlie called out to him.
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"Your friends were here," said Norton, giving Runner Bean a pat. "The whole crazy bunch of them. They gave up waiting for you. It's closing time, young Charlie."
"Can we come in, just for a moment?" begged Charlie.
"Be quick about it, then." Norton frowned over Charlie's head. "And who's this coming down here like the prophet of doom?"
Charlie looked back to see Uncle Paton striding
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toward them. He was wearing dark glasses and a large black fedora, and he kept his eyes on the ground as he paced down the cobbled alley.
"It's my uncle," Charlie said with relief.
"The power-booster? Better turn the lights off, then." Norton reached for the light switch and the cafe was plunged into darkness.
"Ah, there you are, Charlie. It is you, isn't it?" said Uncle Paton, stepping into the cafe. "I can't see a thing."
"Just as well," said Norton.
"Ahh!" Paton jumped. He hadn't seen the bouncer standing behind the door. "I've come to see Mr. Onimous on very important business," he said, recovering his dignity.
"I'd better warn him then." Norton could be heard banging into tables as he made his way through the dark cafe. "Ow!" he grunted as he walked into the counter. "Mr. Onimous," he called. "Customer to see you. Mr. Yewbeam, the you-know-what."
A whisker-thin strip of light above the kitchen
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door was immediately extinguished, and a few seconds later, Mr. Onimous appeared, carrying a tall candelabra with two candles flickering at the top.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Paton?" asked Mr. Onimous, whose whiskery face could just be seen peeking over the counter.
"Good evening, Orvil," said Uncle Paton, removing his dark glasses. "I... that is... we" - he glanced at Charlie - "have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you."
"You'd better come into the kitchen, then." Mr. Onimous held the candelabra as high as he could to light their way across the room.
"Can I come, too?" asked Benjamin diffidently. Runner Bean added a plaintive whine, treats being on his mind.
"Ah, Benjamin Brown, I'd forgotten." Uncle Paton gave the boy a cool stare.
"Please! My parents aren't spying for Mr. Bloor anymore," Benjamin said in a rush. "Mr. Ezekiel wouldn't pay them, and Dad had a terrible fight with