Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock (Children of the Red King, Book 7) (7 page)

"What's wrong, Charlie?" asked Fidelio. "Don't you want your fish cakes?"

Charlie shook his head. "You can have them. I feel kind of queasy."

They were sitting at one of the long tables that ran the length of the dining hall. Dinner had been particularly good. Fish cakes with broccoli and cheese.

All around Charlie there were murmurs of approval and enjoyment. "Mmm," "Yum-yum," "Ahhh!" Plates were scraped and one or two surreptitiously licked. But Charlie had lost his appetite. His gaze constantly slid to the staff table on the dais at the end of the room, where Manfred sat between Mr. Paltry, woodwinds, and Mrs. Marlowe, drama.

"Charlie! Charlie!" Charlie gradually became aware that Billy, on his other side, was whispering to him.

"What did you say?" asked Charlie.

Billy, trying not to move his lips, whispered, "Mrs. Tilpin is still here."

Fidelio overheard him. "Do you mean Joshua's mom. The witch?"

"Shhh!" begged Billy. "I'm already in trouble. They said I was spying on them."

"Who?" said Charlie.

"Dorcas, Dagbert, and the twins, and Joshua, of course. They were in this dark old room in the basement. And then Manfred came in." Billy threw a frightened glance at the staff table. "I think something's going on between them - Mrs. Tilpin and Manfred, I mean."

Charlie gave a moan. "Manfred wants to see me alone after supper."

"I'll come with you, if you like," Fidelio offered.

"You can't," said Charlie mournfully. "You're not endowed. I've got to meet him in the King's room, and you won't be allowed anywhere near it."

Fidelio grimaced. "Oh, well. He can't eat you, Charlie."

"Maybe not," said Charlie, "but I've got a feeling he can hypnotize me."

It was no good trying to put off the meeting. Charlie knew he would only get detention if he was late. After dinner, he collected his books from his desk and trudged up to the King's room.
The other endowed children will be arriving very soon,
he thought,
so Manfred might not have time to do anything too unpleasant.

In a circular room on the third floor, a portrait of the Red King hung between shelves of ancient-looking books. The king's features could barely be discerned in the cracked and darkened paint, but a gold crown glinted on his black hair, and his red cloak fell around him in soft, velvetlike folds.

"Charlie Bone," said Manfred as Charlie sidled through the tall black doors. Manfred was standing opposite Charlie, on the other side of a large round table. "Sit down, Charlie!" he commanded.

Charlie took the nearest chair and sat down, facing Manfred. The talents master continued to stand, and Charlie immediately felt at a disadvantage.

"Why didn't you invite Billy Raven home with you last weekend?" asked Manfred.

Charlie struggled to understand why he was being asked such a simple question. What was behind it?

"Have you had a fight with Billy?" Manfred persisted.

"No," said Charlie.

"You always invite Billy home." Manfred put his hands on the table and bent forward. "So what went wrong?"

"I... nothing." Charlie was thoroughly confused. "I just forgot."

"You FORGOT?"

Was it a crime, forgetting to ask a friend home? Now Charlie was suspicious.

"You won't forget next time, will you, Charlie?" Manfred's eyes glinted. The coal-black irises were quartered with flicks of blazing light.

Charlie felt an intense pain in the center of his forehead.
Why is Manfred doing this?
he wondered.
He doesn't have to hypnotize me. I would have asked Billy home next weekend, anyway.
Having to resist Manfred's gaze made Charlie angry. It had happened before and Charlie had discovered that he could block the hypnotist. He had to look beyond the black glare and into the mind of Manfred Bloor.

Images swam before Charlie's eyes: a knight in a green cloak; a stone troll; and, last of all, far, far out on a furious gray sea, the sail of a tiny boat.

"No!" cried Charlie. The pain in his head increased. He thought he could bear it no longer. He would have to let go.

"You will...
," came the words.
"You will
..."

"Will...?" Charlie murmured. He felt his head sinking forward. And then another image cut through the darkness in his head: a knight on a white horse, red feathers streaming from his silver helmet, and a sword whose blade flashed like a ray of the sun.

The dark figure on the other side of the table began to sink. Charlie heard a distant roar, and then the doors behind him opened, and he was surrounded by moving, murmuring forms. Charlie sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"You OK, Charlie?" asked Tancred, taking the seat beside him.

"Yes," said Charlie confidently. "I'm great." He looked across at Manfred, who had dropped into a chair. His head lolled forward as though he were asleep.

Dorcas and the twins clustered around the talents master. Joshua tapped his shoulder and Manfred lifted his head. He clutched the edge of the table and pulled himself to his feet. "Get started on your homework," he said. His speech was thick and slurred. Avoiding Charlie's eye, Manfred limped out of the room.

Dorcas, Joshua, and the twins took their usual places opposite Charlie. A few moments later, Emma, Lysander, and Gabriel arrived and sat beside one another, beyond Tancred. Billy rushed in and headed straight for the empty place on Charlie's right. The small boy seemed nervous and even more disorganized than usual. Books kept falling out of his grasp, his glasses slipped off his nose, and reaching for them, his chair tipped sideways and he fell onto the floor.

Charlie had no doubt that the Branko twins were responsible. They often tormented Billy with their kinetic powers. He was an easy victim. Dorcas and Joshua began to snicker.

"Pathetic!" Lysander glared at the twins. "Is that how you get your kicks? Tormenting people who can't defend themselves? Try it on me, Idith. Come on, Inez, knock MY chair over."

The twins lowered their eyes and opened their books. The ghostly African warriors that Lysander could call up were not something that they wanted to contest.

Dagbert Endless came in late. He sat alone, halfway between each group. "Where's the talents master?" he asked.

"He got sick," said Dorcas, "when Charlie Bone was with him."

"Is that so?" Dagbert looked at Charlie with interest.

CHAPTER 6

THE POISONED NET

The long, cold dormitory with its single dim light had become so familiar to Charlie that he almost felt at home. But tonight he found it impossible to sleep. On one side of him, Fidelio hummed in his dreams, and on the other, Billy Raven twisted and moaned in a tangle of bed covers.

"Billy, are you awake?" Charlie whispered.

Billy stopped moving and sat up. "I'm worried about Rembrandt," he said. "Who's going to look after him?"

"You heard Olivia. She said Mrs. Onimous wasn't injured. She'll be back at the Pets' Cafe right now, I bet."

"But Mr. Onimous? He ... he must be..." Billy's voice trailed off.

"We'll ask Cook about it in the morning," said Charlie. "She'll know." He closed his eyes and turned over, and then he found himself asking, "Do you want to come home with me next weekend?"

"Of course I do," said Billy.

"That's settled, then."

Fidelio had drifted out of his musical dream and slumbered peacefully. Billy lay quiet and still, at last, and Charlie should have found it easy to sleep. But another problem had presented itself.

Why was Manfred so eager for Billy to visit Charlie's home? Did it have something to do with the painting of Badlock? Charlie realized he had told Billy nothing about the painting. Billy's concern for his rat had put it out of Charlie's mind.

The soft light of his white moth flickered above Charlie, and he was glad she had followed him to school. As he watched Claerwen loop and swing through the darkness, he began to feel drowsy, but as he finally fell asleep, a voice in his head seemed to be warning him:
Don't let Billy go into Badlock.

From a bed at the end of Charlie's row, Dagbert Endless followed the white moth's dance across the ceiling. He put his hand under his pillow and brought out a small golden fish and five tiny golden crabs. Clutching them in his fist, he murmured, "Sea gold," and a smile crept into his face.

The bare walls of the dormitory were bathed in blue-green colors, veined with rippling silver light. As the watery shades washed above him, Dagbert thought of his mother. She had given him the sea-gold creatures a month before her death. She had found the gold in wrecks so deep they had been declared forever lost. But not to her. For Dagbert's mother was a merwoman, as much at home in the sea as in the castle her husband had built for her. She made the gold into rings and bracelets and golden chains. But the five crabs and the fish were special charms to give her gifted son a power that would exceed his father's. There was also a golden sea urchin somewhere in Tancred Torsson's possession. The storm boy had stolen it to weaken Dagbert's power.

When Dagbert was five years old, his mother had been caught in a net and crushed to death beneath a ton of fish, creatures she had always considered her friends.

Dagbert let the sea-gold charms trickle between his fingers. The loss of his sea urchin angered him. Its theft was a slur on his mother's memory. But watching Charlie Bone's moth had given him an idea. Manfred Bloor wanted that white moth; without her Charlie Bone couldn't travel. But if Dagbert caught the moth, he would be helping himself as well. Tancred would surely return the charm in exchange for Charlie's moth.
Dorcas Loom will make me a net. She's clever with her fingers. We'll soon see who's the strongest,
thought Dagbert.

The following day Charlie found an opportunity to tell Billy about Runner Bean.

He watched Billy wander up to the top of the field and began to follow him. Billy often wandered up to the ruined castle in the woods. He felt safe behind the massive red stone walls, with the open sky for a roof and the comforting sense that the Red King and his queen might still be close.

Charlie found Billy sitting on a stone seat between two of the five arches that led deeper into the castle. The white-haired boy was staring at a huge flagstone that was cracked down the center and bordered with fresh earth. When Charlie approached, Billy said, "That is where Mrs. Tilpin found the mirror, isn't it?"

Charlie looked at the stone. "Yes. Where the shadow buried it."

"D'you think she'll try to use it again to bring the shadow back?"

"Yes, I do." Charlie sat beside Billy. "There's something you've got to know, Billy."

"Oh?" Billy's claret-colored eyes widened with anticipation. "Have you been picture-traveling again?"

"How did you guess?"

"You look like you have. I didn't notice before; I was thinking about Rembrandt so much. I still haven't seen Cook."

"Your rat's going to be OK," said Charlie. "Look, Billy, you've got to know everything that happened last weekend, and I might not get another chance to tell you before Friday."

"I want to know," said Billy.

So Charlie told Billy everything: from the moment he heard the wind sighing out of the painting, to the appearance of Runner Bean in Badlock. Billy shuffled and gasped; he pulled his hood up and hunched himself down, as though he were trying to block out Charlie's words yet was desperate to hear more. When Charlie described how he had escaped from the painting with Claerwen's help, Billy gave a sigh of relief and said, "That's alright, then. But you'd better not go near that painting again, Charlie."

"It's not all right," said Charlie. "I couldn't get Runner Bean out. He's stuck in that awful place, and none of us knows how to..."

"Can you see him?" asked Billy.

"Yes. It's horrible. He's howling."

"Maybe I can, kind of, connect with him," Billy suggested.

Charlie hesitated. "It might be dangerous for you, Billy."

Billy was silent for a while. He swung his legs and looked through the great arch to where distant figures could be seen running over the field. "Benjamin must be upset," he said.

"He is," Charlie admitted. "I don't think he'll talk to me until I've rescued his dog."

Billy looked thoughtful. "I can still come home with you, Charlie, can't I? Even if I don't look at the painting?"

"Of course you can."

As they left the ruins, Charlie's moth fluttered out of his pocket and settled on his shoulder.

"We'll be OK if your moth's with us," Billy said with a grin.

Charlie didn't reply. Claerwen had saved him from Badlock, but she hadn't managed to do the same for Runner Bean.

When the sound of the horn blew across the grounds, the boys began to run back to the school. Neither of them saw Dagbert Endless moving out of the trees, close to the castle entrance.

Charlie's trumpet lesson always finished early. Sehor Alvaro now taught all the brass band students and was generally very successful. He was young and cheerful, with an interesting mustache and smiling, almond-shaped eyes. In Sehor Alvaro's opinion, Charlie could have played the trumpet tolerably well, if he put his mind to it. But the boy with riotous hair seemed unable to concentrate.

Today Charlie was happy to be released ten minutes before lunch.

"Do you think it eez possible you spare some time to practice this week?" asked Sehor Alvaro pleasantly.

"Urn, yes, sir," said Charlie, who was already wondering how he could get a moment alone with Cook.

"Gracias,"
called Sehor Alvaro as Charlie pounded down the hallway.

Finding Cook was not as difficult as Charlie had imagined. She was sitting at one of the tables in the blue cafeteria, having a cup of tea with a white-haired, robust-looking man: Dr. Saltweather.

"A bit early for lunch, aren't we, Charlie Bone?" Dr. Saltweather remarked. "Shouldn't you still be in class?"

"Sehor Alvaro let me go; I hadn't practiced enough," Charlie confessed.

Dr. Saltweather sighed. He was head of music and felt responsible for Charlie's lack of progress. Charlie's father was the cathedral organist and a brilliant musician, but Charlie seemed to have inherited none of his father's talent. Dr. Saltweather was aware of Charlie's extraordinary endowment, however, and had a certain amount of sympathy for the boy.

"I wanted to ask Cook about Mr. Onimous," said Charlie.

"Mr. Onimous?" Cook's rosy face took on an anxious look. "He's not too well, Charlie. He's in the hospital.

Concussion. Poor Mrs. Onimous is beside herself."

"And... and the animals?" asked Charlie.

"Well, the Flames can look after themselves," Cook said confidently, "and you can tell Billy that his rat is quite safe. He's with Mrs. Kettle."

"And the boa?" said Charlie.

"Same place, Charlie. The Kettle Shop."

Dr. Saltweather stood up and pushed in his chair. "I hear the Pets' Cafe has been closed," he said.

Cook nodded. "My poor friends. Councillor Loom was responsible."

"That's terrible." Dr. Saltweather strode toward the door. "Something must be done about it," he boomed.

The music teacher's commanding tone gave Charlie a surge of hope. "D'you think Dr. Saltweather can do something about the cafe?" he asked Cook.

"He'll certainly try. But he'll be up against some pretty powerful people, and I wouldn't like him to put himself in danger." Cook carried the two mugs to the counter and Charlie followed with the teapot and two empty plates. "There are certain people in this city who've been just waiting to finish off the Pets' Cafe." Cook went on, "They don't like you children meeting up on the weekend and hatching plots."

"We don't hatch plots," Charlie said indignantly.

"No? Think about it, Charlie. Oh, I know your plots are all for the best reasons, but they don't like it."

"But the Pets' Cafe is a good place, Cook. It's a happy place. Where else can pets meet and enjoy great food? It's not just useful to us; hundreds of people love it."

"You don't have to tell me, Charlie." Cook lifted the lid from a pan of fish stew on the counter and sniffed. "I'd better check the kitchen and see what my lunch ladies are up to."

Charlie stood by the counter, patiently waiting for someone to come and ladle out the stew. Other music students began to arrive and by the time one of the lunch ladies turned up, a long line had formed behind Charlie.

Once he had been served, Charlie went to his favorite table in the corner of the cafeteria. Before long, he was joined by Gabriel, Billy, and Fidelio. The stew was soon gone, and as they lined up for their dessert, Fidelio remarked that Dagbert Endless was missing.

"Probably ate too much fish over the weekend," Gabriel remarked.

Charlie wouldn't have laughed so heartily if he had known what Dagbert was up to. In fact, he wouldn't have laughed at all.

It wasn't until the end of homework that Charlie began to miss his moth. She often disappeared for a few hours; maybe she slept in the folds of a curtain or nestled behind a picture frame. Charlie never knew. But in the evening she would usually flutter onto his arm or his shoulder, as if she were reassuring him that she was near, and then she would fly off again.

This time, Claerwen's absence worried Charlie. As he left the King's room, he asked Billy if he had seen the moth.

"Not since she was on your arm this morning," said Billy.

Gabriel hadn't seen her, nor had Emma.

"She'll turn up," said Lysander. "Probably eating a spider somewhere."

"Or being eaten by a bat," said Tancred.

Lysander dug him in the ribs. "Cut it out, Tanc. Charlie loves that moth."

Dagbert Endless passed them silently. Charlie noticed that he wore a slight smile. Had he been listening to their conversation?

Dagbert didn't go straight to the dormitory, like the others. He slipped down the main staircase and crossed the hall.

Dr. Saltweather chose that moment to leave the staff room. "Where do you think you're going, Dagbert Endless?" he demanded.

"I've got to show the talents master some work," Dagbert said casually.

"Be quick about it, then," said Dr. Saltweather. "It'll be lights-out in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir." Dagbert ran down the passage to his classroom. He went to a desk at the back of the room and opened the lid. Inside the desk lay something resembling a fine white handkerchief. Dorcas had done her work well. On Dagbert's instructions, she had gone to the sewing room during lunch and had quickly woven a nice little net. It was made of the finest muslin and fixed to a long bamboo cane, helpfully provided by Weedon. Just to make sure the net would do what Dagbert intended, Dorcas had dipped the muslin in the juice of a rare herb: still-wort. She had never used the herb before and was interested to see if it would work.

It had worked very well. The moth inside the net lay so still it appeared to be dead.

"Did you catch it?" Dorcas peered around the door.

"It was easy," said Dagbert. "I've taken it off the pole. Come and look."

Dorcas crept over to Dagbert's desk. He picked up the muslin net and laid it across his palms. Inside the net the white moth's wings rose and fell, just once, as though it were taking its last breath.

"It's not dead, then," said Dorcas, disappointment clouding her plump face.

"It will be soon," Dagbert told her. He laid the net on his desk and went to the supply cabinet, where Mr. Carp, the English teacher, kept a thick glass jar.

Dagbert brought the jar over to his desk and eased the opening of the net around the top of the glass. The white moth fell in.

"There," said Dagbert. "Now I'll take it to Manfred."

"You will tell him I helped, won't you?" said Dorcas. "I mean, I did make the net and the poison and everything."

"Of course I'll tell him, Dorc. You're a genius, you know that?"

"Yes, I do." A smile dimpled her cheeks.

Dagbert covered the jar with the muslin and carried it to the door. Dorcas rushed to open it for Dagbert, who sailed through with a muttered "Thanks" and continued across the hall. Dorcas flew ahead of him and opened the small, ancient door that led to the west wing.

"You will tell him, won't you?" begged Dorcas again.

"I said I would," Dagbert replied, stepping into the dark passage behind the door. "Better get to bed, Dorc, or Matron'll come down on you."