Charlie Bone and the Shadow Read online

  "His spirit, you mean, Charlie," said Uncle Paton.

  Charlie shook his head. "No, more than that. I've seen him. I told you, Uncle P. - a knight with red feathers on a silver helmet, who wears a red cloak and rides a white horse. He saved me. Twice."

  For a while no one spoke. Even Uncle Paton couldn't find words to explain the Red Knight, but at last he said, "It might not be the king, Charlie."

  "Then who?" asked Maisie. "Who would dress up like that and ride around at night on a white horse?"

  Paton shrugged. "That, I do not know."

  Mrs. Brown got up and put on her tweed cap. "I came here about Runner. And now I'm more confused than ever."

  "Charlie thinks that Billy Raven might be able to help," said Maisie.

  "Billy Raven?" Mrs. Brown said crossly. "How can he...oh, of course, he communicates..."

  "With animals," finished Charlie. "I just thought he might be able to understand what Runner Bean is trying to tell us. But we'll have to wait till next weekend."

  Mrs. Brown sighed. "He's our only hope, then. So be it. I'd better get back. I don't think Benjamin will go to school tomorrow." She cast a last angry look at Charlie and, before anyone could say another word, marched out.

  "I forgot to ask her why she was wearing a man's suit," said Paton.

  "Just as well," said Maisie.

  Charlie went upstairs to pack his bag for school. Being a weekly boarder meant that he had to take pajamas, a laundry bag, and a set of clean clothes. Good luck to any pupil who forgot their toothbrush. The matron, Charlie's great-aunt Lucretia, gave detention for the slightest oversight.

  On Monday morning a blue school bus picked Charlie up from the top of Filbert Street. He was wearing a blue cape, the uniform for music students, and carried a blue bag for his clothes and a brown backpack for his books. Fidelio, also in a blue cape, had saved a seat for Charlie, as usual. Behind them sat Gabriel Silk, a boy with a long face and floppy brown hair.

  "Have you heard about the Pets' Cafe?" asked Gabriel, leaning over the back of Charlie's seat. "It's a disaster."

  "Have they really closed it?" asked Charlie.

  "Permanently," said Fidelio gloomily.

  "It was Councillor Loom, Dorcas's dad," Gabriel told them. "He said there've been complaints about the noise."

  The Pets' Cafe was a favorite meeting place for Charlie and his friends. He couldn't imagine what they would do without it. Or what poor Mr. and Mrs. Onimous, the owners, would do without customers.

  When the blue bus drew into the square in front of Bloor's Academy, a green bus pulled up beside it, and art students in green capes began to climb out. Emma was among them. Behind her came Tancred Torsson and Lysander Sage. Both fourteen and almost inseparable.

  "Hey, Charlie," called Tancred. "How was your weekend?"

  "Don't ask," said Fidelio.

  Tancred walked up to them. His spiky blond hair was hidden by a denim baseball cap, and his green cape billowed out in a breeze that was all his own. "Did something happen?"

  As they walked up the steps to the academy, Charlie began to tell Tancred about Runner Bean. He had hardly begun when he became aware that, on his other side, Lysander Sage, who had African ancestors, was bending his head in order to hear Charlie's low voice.

  They passed between two towers, crossed a cob-blestoned courtyard, and ascended another set of steps up to huge oak doors studded with bronze figures. This morning the doors stood open, but once all the children were through, they would be closed and bolted until Friday afternoon.

  Charlie came to the end of his account just before they stepped into the great hall. Lysander patted Charlie's shoulder, saying, "We'll come and get him out of there, won't we, Tanc?"

  "We'll try," said Tancred in an undertone.

  They were now in the great flagstoned hall, where silence was the rule. Charlie, Fidelio, and Gabriel made their way to the blue coatroom, where a pair of crossed trumpets hung above the door. Tancred and Lysander walked toward the crossed paintbrushes that denoted the green coatroom.

  On their way, Charlie noticed that the great hall seemed emptier than usual. And then he realized there was not one purple cape in sight. The drama students were all missing.

  It was not until first break that they found out what had happened. In the wide frosty field behind the academy, purple capes could now be seen on children jogging around the perimeter, talking in groups, or playing soccer at the far end. The academy capes were made of thick wool, and the hoods were particularly comforting on cold winter mornings. Olivia, her purple hood pulled well down over her matching curls, rushed up to Charlie and Fidelio, with Emma hot on her heels.

  Olivia breathlessly gave them the news. "There was an accident. It was awful. The Onimouses were on their bike, you know how they ride. Mrs. Onimous in front, pedaling, and Mr. Onimous on a little seat behind her. Well, a mysterious motorcyclist ran into them and they both fell off. The motorcycle disappeared, but then a car, trying to avoid them, backed into our bus. There was glass everywhere, and we all had to get out and walk to school."

  "But the Onimouses!" Charlie exclaimed.

  "Well, Mrs. Onimous stood up. I saw her," said Olivia. "She was a bit shaky, but OK, I think. Not sure about him, though. He was lying as still as a stone."

  Gabriel and Billy had joined the group. Billy began twisting his hands together. "What about my rat?" he cried. "What about Rembrandt? Who's going to feed him?"

  Olivia said sternly, "I'm sure your rat is perfectly capable of looking after himself. It's the poor Onimouses we should be thinking about. We don't even know if Mr. Onimous is alive."

  Billy looked sheepishly at his feet. "Sorry," he muttered. "I've had a bad weekend."

  Billy's remark pricked Charlie's conscience. He should have invited Billy home with him. He was about to mention the following weekend, when the sound of a horn rang out over the field. Break was over.

  The small group began to drift toward the school door, and Fidelio said, "What we should be asking ourselves is, who knocked the Onimouses off their bike?"

  "And why?" added Emma. "Mrs. Onimous is a fantastic cyclist."

  Charlie was about to say that Norton Cross, the Pets' Cafe doorman, owned a motorcycle. But the idea that Norton could have caused the accident was preposterous.

  Just as Charlie was going into his French class, he was roughly pulled aside. "I want a word with you," said Manfred Bloor.

  "But I'll be late for Fr -" Charlie began.

  "Not now," said Manfred. "Come to the King's room five minutes before homework."

  "Yes, sir." Charlie eased himself out of Manfred's painful grip and rushed into the French room. Madame Tessier was about to begin the lesson and

  Charlie was lucky to avoid her beady French eye, as he snuck to his desk at the back.

  For the rest of the day Charlie's thoughts kept turning to his forthcoming meeting with Manfred. The headmaster's son was now the talents master. He'd been head boy when Charlie entered the school a year and a half ago. A head boy who used his hypnotic power to terrorize the younger students. Charlie had been one of his victims. But gradually, Manfred's power had waned until Charlie had begun to feel almost safe looking into those coal-black eyes. And yet, today, he'd noticed an odd glint in Manfred's gaze, and he began to dread the evening ahead.

  "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!" Char
lie 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."