Charlie Bone and the Hidden King Page 4

  Billy suddenly leaped up. "Animals can sense things, you know. That's why they've all gone. If something from the past has woken up, it's brought memories with it: battles and fires, the pain and the terrible sounds. No wonder they ran away."

  "I don't see how all this helps me!" cried Benjamin. "I mean, maybe I'll never, ever find my dog again."

  The dreadful prospect of a city without animals of any kind suddenly dawned on everyone at the same time.

  "It's like being under a curse," Emma remarked.

  Uncle Paton didn't hold with such pessimism. "You're all being too gloomy," he said. "I'm sure the situation's temporary. Pretty soon that rat will wake up and tell you where they've all gone."

  But Rembrandt didn't wake up. He lay in Billy's pocket all day, his only sign of life a very weak heartbeat.

  On Sunday, a north wind blew clouds of freezing sleet into the city, and only the foolhardy ventured out.

  Charlie and Billy played video games while Rembrandt, tucked in Billy's bed, emitted a faint ratty snore. A particularly violent gust of wind sent a slate crashing into the road and Charlie went to the window. There, sheltering beneath the bare chestnut tree, he saw the figure in yellow again. He was quite sure it was the person he had glimpsed ducking into an alley the day before. But this time, in spite of the sleet, he got a better look at her. If he wasn't mistaken she was Asian. Her coat was sunshine yellow. It had a loose hood and her black shoulder-length hair was held away from her face by a shiny butterfly clip.

  When the girl saw Charlie, she smiled and raised her hand. Charlie waved back. As soon as he did this, the girl's smile widened, and then she ran off.

  "Wait!" cried Charlie.

  "Who are you talking to?" asked Billy.

  "That girl." Charlie rushed out of the room. He leaped downstairs and ran across the hall. Flinging open the front door he called up the street, "Wait! Who are you?"

  But the girl in the sunshine coat kept running until she was out of sight.

  "What girl?" asked Billy when Charlie returned.

  "Just a girl. She seems to know me, but she ran off."

  Rembrandt gave a sudden squeak and sat up.

  "Look, he's awake." Billy picked up the rat and began talking in his strange, piping rat-speak.

  Rembrandt appeared to be listening. When Billy fell silent, the rat replied with a few weary squeaks.

  Billy frowned. "He says he can't remember anything."

  "What! He can't remember how he got to the sanctuary, or whatever it was?"

  Billy spoke to Rembrandt again. He was answered in the same weak tones of an exhausted rat.

  "He's got a picture of the place in his head, but he's completely forgotten how he got there."

  "Then how are we going to find the other animals?" Charlie demanded.

  "Don't know. But Rembrandt couldn't walk all that way again, even if he wanted to." Billy lifted one of the rat's feet. "Look, his pads are really sore, and he's lost a claw."

  Charlie observed the rat's small feet. They certainly looked the worse for wear. He dropped gloomily onto his bed and thought of Benjamin, waiting seven long months to see Runner Bean, only to find that the dog he idolized had vanished. Charlie felt responsible.

  Perhaps if he had taken better care of Runner, he wouldn't have run away.

  "It's not your fault, Charlie," said Billy gently. "Grandma Bone would've killed Runner or sent him to an animal shelter. And anyway he was happy at the Pets' Cafe."

  "I wonder if the animals will come back," mused Charlie, "or if they've all gone for good."

  Later that evening Maisie came to fetch Rembrandt. She told the boys she would keep the rat in her room, safe from Grandma Bone, and return him to Mr. Onimous on Monday.

  In the meantime, Charlie and Billy had to pack for the new school term. They worked in silence, folding their blue capes and white shirts, and tucking books, shoes, and socks at the bottom of their bags, each of them thinking of the new term ahead. Charlie wondered what the situation would be like in the King's room, where the descendants of the Red King held their silent battles during homework hours. At the end of the previous term, Charlie and his friends had seemed to gain the upper hand, but he knew the peace was temporary. The other five had been revealed as powerful enemies. There was bound to be conflict among the Children of the Red King.

  The next morning, when Charlie stepped inside the tall doors of Bloor's Academy, he noticed that many of the children looked depressed. The rule of silence was not the only reason for the gloomy atmosphere. Shoulders were hunched, eyes downcast, and huge sighs were emitted as children found their way through the crowd and into the right coatrooms.

  "Deary me, what a gloomy shower!" Manfred Bloor pushed his way through the throng. "What's the matter with you all? Give us a smile, Emma! Gabriel Silk, you look like you're at a funeral. Move out of my way, you moron."

  Manfred had suddenly come face-to-face with Lysander Sage. Charlie noticed that his friend was now almost as tall as the headmaster's son. Lysander, wearing a look of grim determination, silently stood his ground.

  "Move!" bellowed Manfred.

  "Say 'please'!"

  The children around the two young men instantly drew back, leaving Manfred and Lysander isolated in the center of the hall. Manfred's pale face had turned bright red. He scowled at Lysander, his black eyes narrowing and his eyebrows drawn into a furious line above his long nose.

  Charlie held his breath. If Lysander didn't move quickly, he'd be hypnotized. Everyone in the hall was aware of the danger. Many of them had already been the victims of Manfred's paralyzing gaze, including Charlie.

  Move, Sander, move, Charlie silently implored his friend.

  But Lysander wouldn't give way.

  Manfred opened his mouth. A horrible gurgle came out. He was trying to threaten detention, but with a snort of contempt, Lysander slipped away and went into the green coatroom.

  Charlie stood still, amazed by what he had seen. Manfred Bloor had failed to hypnotize or intimidate Lysander, and now he appeared to be in shock. He glared into the distance, horror and disbelief written across his bony face.

  Billy tugged Charlie's cape. "We'd better get out of here," he whispered.

  His warning came too late.

  "What are you gawking at, Bone?" shouted Manfred, now even more furious than before.

  "Nothing . . . I just . . . I thought I'd lost something."

  "Your wits, most likely." Manfred turned abruptly and marched over to the prefects' room.

  Charlie felt like shouting something rude at his back, but Billy pulled him into the blue coatroom. They were met by a buzz of conversation. At least ten children had lost their pets. Gabriel Silk looked even more forlorn than usual. Twenty of his gerbils were missing, also three ducks and his mother's pet goat.

  "That's not as bad as losing your dog," whined Gwyneth Howells, a moaner if ever there was one.

  "Losing a cat's worse than losing a dog," argued a small girl in a cape that was two sizes too large for her.

  Fidelio Gunn was tuning his violin, oblivious to the conversation going on around him.

  "Fido, what about your cat? Pudding, isn't it?" Charlie sat on the bench beside his friend.

  "Pudding? What about her?" Fidelio bent over his violin and tightened a string. "She's fine. Deaf as a post, of course."

  "You must've heard what's been going on. Everyone's pet has . . ." Charlie paused, struck by a sudden thought. "Of course, your cat's deaf." He pictured Fidelio's house, crammed with musical children, strumming and drumming, singing and thumping. Gunn House positively rocked with sound - but surely, not at midnight.

  "Did anything special happen in your house on Saturday night?" Charlie asked.

  Yeah." Fidelio hummed a note. "Felix has his band over. They were in the cellar but they still made a lot of noise. Dad kicked them out around one a.m."

  "That explains it," said Charlie. "Pudding wouldn't have felt a thing." He stood up, aware that th
e coat-room was now empty. "Come on, we'll be late for assembly."

  At first break, an atmosphere of gloom lay over the playing field. Charlie was surprised by the number of children who kept a pet of some sort. He passed little knots of dejected owners discussing their lost animals: dogs, cats, rabbits, even iguanas, snakes, and bush babies. Where had they gone, and why? Would they come back, and when?

  Charlie had no doubt that the finger of suspicion would eventually fall on the Children of the Red King. They were usually blamed for unusual happenings.

  Miss Chrystal, the violin teacher, gave Charlie a cheery wave from the door. "Are you all right, Charlie?" she called. "You look lost."

  "I was just looking for Fidelio, Miss Chrystal," said Charlie.

  "Ah. He's waiting for a music lesson. I'm late." Miss Chrystal popped back inside.

  Charlie envied Fidelio. He had the youngest and prettiest music teacher in the school. Charlie had old Mr. Paltry with his bad temper and smoker's cough.

  "Hi, Charlie!"

  Charlie turned to see Tancred and Lysander walking around the field together. Tancred beckoned to him. When Charlie ran up to them, Lysander's usual, welcoming smile was absent. He stared moodily into the distance, as if Charlie wasn't even there.

  "Hey, it was great, you standing up to Manfred like that," Charlie said encouragingly.

  Still no smile. Yeah." Lysander stared grimly ahead.

  "His parrot's gone," Tancred explained. "You know - Homer."

  "All the animals have gone," said Charlie. "They went during the snowstorm on Saturday. But we'll get them back, I know we will."

  Tancred said quickly, "About the snow, Charlie. It was me. I brought it, but I swear I had nothing to do with the animals."

  "You!" said Charlie. "No wonder. I thought there was something weird about that stuff."

  Tancred looked slightly offended. "I thought I did a pretty good job, actually."

  "But why snow?" asked Charlie.

  "The Flame cats made me do it." Tancred ran a hand through his spiky yellow hair. "I'm not sure why."

  "They came to see me, too," said Charlie, almost to himself. "Maybe they were trying to stop something from being found, and the snow helped, for a while, but in the end someone got to an object that connects our world to a kind of - ancient spirit." Charlie drew a breath. The two older boys were staring at him with a mixture of fascination and disbelief.

  "Go on," said Lysander.

  "Well, when that happened, the earth shuddered. At least that's what Rembrandt told Billy. The animals felt the shudder and they were all so frightened, they fled."

  "Where to?" Lysander demanded. "My parrot's gone and I want him back. I need him."

  Charlie gave a defeated shrug. "Rembrandt said they all went across the river. He came back, but now he can't remember how he got to - wherever they all went."

  "Useless rat," Lysander grunted.

  Charlie was disappointed to find a tough character like Lysander so dependent on a parrot. He was about to defend Rembrandt when the horn sounded for the end of break and the boys headed back toward the school.

  As a crowd of children filed through the garden door, Charlie was astonished to see a familiar figure walking among them. It was Benjamin's mother, Mrs. Brown.

  "That's your friend's mom, Charlie," Tancred observed. "Is Benjamin coming to Bloor's?"

  Charlie shook his head. "No. He would have said. What's she doing here?"

  "She's a private investigator, so she's probably investigating," said Lysander. "Hey, maybe she's come to find out about the disappearing animals. They probably think it's one of us." He gave a bitter laugh.

  Mrs. Brown suddenly looked over her shoulder and met Charlie's gaze. She quickly turned away and stepped through the door.

  "She's acting like she doesn't know me," said Charlie incredulously.

  "You're under suspicion, Charlie Bone," said Tancred with a mocking grin. "See you later, animal evaporator." He flew after Lysander, who was already several strides ahead.

  "What . . .?" Charlie stood with his mouth open.

  Tancred was joking, of course, but it was no joke to have your oldest friend's mother deliberately avoiding you.

  "I can always count on you to be last." Asa Pike, the head prefect, smirked at Charlie from inside the hall. "I'm going to lock this door in ten sec -"

  "NO!" Charlie leaped over the step and skidded to a halt beside Asa.

  "Did you have a nice Christmas holiday?" There was a sneer behind Asa's every remark.

  Charlie chose to ignore the sneer and replied, "Great, thanks. And you?"

  Asa's weaselly face twitched. He tucked a greasy strand of orange hair behind his ear and said, "Of course. Get moving or you'll be late for class."

  Charlie hastened across the hall, leaving Asa to lock the door. There was something unusual about the prefect's behavior. He had seemed nervous and ill at ease, Asa was the oldest student in the school and should have been head boy, but having failed all of last year's exams, he had been passed over for Riley Burns, a bossy know-it-all and champion athlete.

  Could Asa's humiliation have accounted for his nervousness? Charlie wasn't sure. And then a thought struck him. When dusk fell, Asa had been known to change his shape; he could become a long-snouted, crooked-backed, wolfish creature. Perhaps, like other animals, he too had felt the earth shudder. Charlie decided to observe the prefect during homework, when they would sit at the same table in the King's room.

  That evening, Charlie was the first person through the black doors of the King's room. He looked around the high-ceilinged, circular room, its curved walls lined with shelves of leather-bound books. There was space for only one picture; a huge gilt-framed painting of the Red King.

  Charlie liked to sit where he could see the painting, and as he arranged his books on the large round table, the other endowed children began to arrive.

  First came Joshua Tilpin, a small boy with a mousy face, big ears, and crooked teeth. As usual he wore a dusting of chalk, paper, leaves, and twigs; Joshua was magnetic in more ways than one. Next came the telekinetic twins, Idith and Inez, and then Billy Raven made a furtive entrance. Sidling toward Charlie, he Whispered, "I've got something to tell you."

  But Charlie barely heard him. He was staring at the king's portrait. He knew it so well. He had gazed so often at the dark face, its features blurred by cracks in the ancient paint. The king wore a slim, gold crown and a red cloak, its deep folds darkened and stained with age. Charlie had longed to enter the painting and walk in the distant world of the Red King, but something always prevented him. A dark shadow stood behind the king, a mysterious figure that blocked Charlie's every attempt to reach his ancestor. But now -

  Charlie's eyes widened. Dizzy with shock, he gripped the back of his chair. The shadow had moved. Only slightly, but Charlie knew the painting so well that it was obvious to him. Once the shadow had been a hazy shape standing behind the king. Now it appeared to be larger and more defined, as though it had taken a step forward.

  "The shadow," he breathed.

  Leaning close to him, Billy said softly, "I was going to tell you."

  A WITCH WITH TWO SHADOWS

  Billy Raven, are you talking?" Manfred Bloor strode into the room. He was carrying a large black briefcase, brand-new by the look of it.

  "Er, not really. I was just sort of asking Charlie to move a book." Billy's red eyes blinked nervously.

  "Silence is golden, remember that, Billy." Manfred settled himself on the opposite side of the table.

  "Yes, Man - sir." Just in time, Billy remembered that Manfred must now be called sir.

  Gradually, the King's room filled up. Lysander was the last one in. He closed the door with a backward kick, causing Manfred to shout, "For Pete's sake, can't you behave normally, Lysander Sage?"

  "Depends on what you mean by normal, Lysander said airily. "I mean, none of us in here are normal, are we? Not even you."

  Thrown off guard, Manfred stare
d at Lysander with an expression of horror. But quickly regaining his composure, he snarled, "I've had enough of your cheek, Sage. That remark will cost you. Now sit down and shut up."

  Shrugging his shoulders, Lysander sat beside Tancred and, watched by the rest of the room, arranged his books on the table.

  The oppressive atmosphere in the King's room grew steadily worse. To Charlie, the children sitting on either side of Manfred seemed especially smug tonight. They kept darting secretive looks at one another, and then glaring across the table at Charlie and his friends.

  Dorcas Loom had once been a round and rosy, perpetually smiling girl. Now she was a heavyset, glowering twelve-year-old, with matted blond hair and an unhealthy indoor pallor. She sat between the identical Branko twins, Idith and Inez, the black-haired, doll-faced children who only smiled when someone was in trouble.

  One of the twins (who knows which) was watching Charlie now, as his gaze slid up to the Red King's portrait. He couldn't concentrate on his work at all. The changed position of the sinister shadow in the painting filled his thoughts. How had it happened? And why? Manfred had told him that the shadow was Borlath, the king's oldest son and a brutal tyrant. But Charlie's instincts told him that this was not true. Who, then, was the shadow?

  "Bone! Do your work!" Manfred's voice brought Charlie back to earth.

  "I w-was," he stuttered.

  "No, you weren't. You were staring at that painting again. You're always doing it. Well, give it up, Charlie Bone, because that's one picture you're never, ever going to enter. Understand?"

  "If you say so." Charlie bent over his work. He had resisted the urge to mention the shadow, although he longed to know how the others would react. Apart from Billy, had any of them even noticed that the shadow had moved?

  As soon as homework was over, Charlie gathered up his books and quickly followed Billy out of the room.

  "Did you see the shadow?" he asked Billy, as the smaller boy hurried down the hallway. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

  "I'm not very observant," Billy said warily. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "What are they waiting for?"

  Looking back, Charlie saw Gabriel, Emma, Tancred, and Lysander standing outside the King's room.