by Jenny Nimmo
Charlie hadn't thought about that. Luckily Tancred had. "Over here," he called, beckoning them from a small iron-barred gate. Beyond the gate, a narrow passage ran between number twelve and number thirteen. Obviously a way to the gardens at the back.
The gate gave a loud squeal as they hurried through, and Charlie glanced nervously at the side of number thirteen. But there was only one window, high in the wall, and that had a curtain drawn across it.
At the back of the houses, yards and gardens were clearly defined by high gray stone walls. An alley ran between the gardens of Darkly Wynd and those of the houses in the crescent. But, unlike the others, there were no gates in the walls of the number thirteens.
"You'll just have to climb over," Lysander told Charlie. "You can stand on my back."
"We'll keep watch," said Emma.
"I'm going with Charlie," said Tancred.
"No, me!" cried Olivia. "PLEASE!"
"Shhh!" hissed Charlie. "You can both come."
As soon as he'd climbed onto Lysander's back and looked over the wall, he realized he would need two more pairs of eyes to help him search. The garden was a mass of plants. Herbs, flowers, shrubs, and weeds crowded together between the walls: a veritable carpet of vegetation.
"Wow!" said Olivia when she saw the garden. "Where do we start?"
They decided to keep in a line, working their way from the wall to the house. Charlie could see it wouldn't be easy The plants were so tightly packed it was difficult not to step on them. Olivia, in her clumpy mauve shoes, made more of a mess than the boys. She kept tripping and crashing into the tallest and most delicate-looking blooms. Charlie tried not to look at her and kept his eyes trained on the plants in front of him.
Now and then, one of them would call softly "I see it," and then, "No, that's not it."
They had almost reached the house when Charlie heard something drop onto the wall between Eustacia's garden and the yard next door. He jumped over the last clump of plants to see what it was.
A smooth gray pebble sat on top of the wall. It looked strangely familiar. And then it came to Charlie. "Mr. Boldova," he murmured. "The sparks!" But had the stone come from Eustacia's house, or Venetia's next door?
"Have you found it, Charlie?" Tancred called in a harsh whisper.
"No, I . . .”
There was a loud whistle from the wall and Lysander called, "Watch out, Charlie. Something's happening inside."
Charlie looked up at the gaunt, soot-stained building. He could hear voices. A top window clanged shut, and then they all heard footsteps running down a staircase.
"Let's get out," said Olivia.
"But I haven't found the vervain," said Charlie.
"Forget it," said Tancred. "Come on, we'll try another day"
But there might not be another day Charlie wouldn't give up. He whirled around, screwing up his eyes and staring at the plants, while the others raced for the wall.
"Look out!" yelled Tancred as the back door opened.
And then Charlie saw it, almost at his feet. There was no time to tear off a sprig; he bent down and yanked the plant right out of the ground, roots and all.
"What do you think you're doing?" screeched Great-aunt Eustacia from the doorway
She ran down the steps as Charlie bounded over the garden, trampling plants as he went. Olivia was already scrambling onto the wall when there was a loud crack under Charlie's right foot, and before he could stop himself he was sliding through the earth.
"Eeec-er-ooo-ow!" yelled Charlie, trying to cling to a spindly shrub. It was no use; he was tumbling deeper and deeper into a dark pit.
"You didn't see my trap, did you, you stupid boy?" cackled Eustacia.
"Charlie, where are you?" called Olivia.
"Help!" Charlie clawed at the sides of the pit, but the black earth was slimy with slugs and rotting weeds.
Of all the great-aunts, Eustacia had the worst laugh. It crackled with spite. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" She stood right above Charlie, and he had a nasty view of brown tights and black underwear.
He closed his eyes and murmured feebly "Help!"
"It's too late for help," sneered Eustacia. "You're caught like a rat in a trap, Charlie Bone. Now, what shall I do with you?"
Charlie looked up. "Old women can't do this to children," he said defiantly
"Can't? But I just have," snickered his great-aunt. "And if you . . . " All at once, in mid-sentence, Eustacia flew into the air. It was quite astonishing. As Charlie squinted up at the large figure in the sky it disappeared in a cloud of leaves. He could hear a wind roaring above him now, gathering twigs, earth, stalks, and plants in a great whirlwind.
"Tancred," breathed Charlie as four hands stretched down toward him.
"Climb up, Charlie," came Tancred's voice, though Charlie couldn't see him through the flying debris.
"Tancred's fixed the old bat," said Olivia, "so come on up."
But Charlie couldn't even touch the waving hands. "I can't! I can't!" he cried.
Two more hands appeared: strong brown hands that could stretch farther down into the pit. "Get a move on, Charlie," said Lysander's voice. "Push it, man. Come out of there!"
This time Charlie clamped the vervain between his teeth and leaped as he reached for the brown hands. They caught him and slowly he began to climb.
Tancred and Olivia grabbed one arm while Lysander pulled the other, and gradually Charlie was dragged toward the mouth of the pit. He could hear a muffled screaming in the distance, and when he crawled out into the wind, he saw what must have been his great-aunt, covered in greenery fighting the gale that roared through her garden.
"Stop!" shrieked the green mound as Charlie and the others raced for the wall.
Lysander gave Charlie a shove from behind, and they all fell into the alley overcome with helpless laughter.
"What happened?" asked Emma, who was too small to see over the wall.
"Tancred did his thing, and now Charlie's aunt looks like a compost heap!" said Olivia.
"She'll take it out on you, Charlie," said Emma, too worried to see the funny side.
Preferring not to think about this, Charlie took the vervain from his mouth, spat out mud, and dusted himself off as they all began to run down the narrow passage into Darkly Wynd. When they got there, Emma, the only one to have thought ahead, took a plastic bag from her pocket and held it out to Charlie.
"What would we do without you?" said Charlie, dropping the muddy vervain into the bag.
"It's got roots," Emma observed. "You could plant it again."
"I'll have to find out if it works first," said Charlie.
They hurried down Darkly Wynd and out into the sunshine of Greybank Crescent. The change in temperature was dramatic. Behind them lay a place the sun had never touched. An empty forgotten place of cold stone and gloomy shadows. They all gave an involuntary shiver and turned their faces up to the sun.
And then Tancred said, "By the way Charlie, what were you looking at when your aunt came through the door?"
Charlie had almost forgotten the pebble. He pulled it out of his pocket. "This," he said.
They looked at the smooth gray stone lying in Charlie's palm.
"Looks familiar," said Lysander.
"I'm sure it belonged to Mr. Boldova," said Charlie. "The stones that sparkled in his hand looked just like this."
"You're right," said Olivia. "But how did it get into your aunt's garden?"
"It was dropped from a window" said Charlie. "I think she stole it."
Everyone agreed that this was a possibility And yet who had dropped the pebble? And why? It was a puzzle.
"There are too many puzzles," said Lysander. "We'll meet up tomorrow, right? And discuss the Ollie problem."
"What about Charlie's uncle?" said Emma. "Suppose the vervain doesn't work?"
"I'll come whatever," said Charlie.
When they reached the main road, the five friends parted, and Charlie ran home with the prized vervain. He could hardly w
ait to see if it worked. First he would chop some into tea leaves and take his uncle a cup of vervain tea. He leaped up the steps of number nine, opened the door — and walked straight into Grandma Bone.
"What's that you've got?" she said, eyeing the plastic bag.
"Nothing — er, some fruit from Mom's shop," said Charlie.
"Liar! I know what you've been doing. Eustacia called me. You're a thief!"
"No." Charlie backed out of the open door.
"Give me that bag!" she demanded.
"No!" yelled Charlie.
Grandma Bone made a grab for the bag but, at that N very moment, a large yellow dog bounded up the steps and leaped on Charlie's grandmother, knocking her back into the house.
"Runner!" cried Charlie. He ran down the steps with Runner Bean at his heels, while Grandma Bone roared from the house, "Stop! Come here! You wait, Charlie Bone! You won't get away with this."
Charlie raced up the street, panting, "Runner, where did you come from? You saved my life!" And then he saw Fidelio, speeding toward him.
"Hi, Charlie!" called Fidelio. "Runner got away from me. I guess he couldn't wait to see you."
The two boys met halfway up Filbert Street, and Fidelio explained that he had gone to the Pets' Café hoping to find Charlie, but instead he had run into Norton Cross, who insisted he take Runner Bean for a walk.
"I forgot," said Charlie. "In fact, I keep forgetting. I'm sorry Runner." He patted the dog's shaggy head.
"So where were you? And what's going on?" asked Fidelio.
Charlie described his visit to Darkly Wynd and the reason for stealing his great-aunt's vervain.
"Wish I'd been there," said Fidelio, a little aggrieved at being left out of things. "You'd better come home with me while your grandma cools down."
Charlie thought this was a very good idea.
Runner Bean didn't, but he was so pleased to see Charlie, he was prepared to put up with a place he considered to be the noisiest in the world.
Fidelio's seven brothers and sisters all played different musical instruments, and at any one time at least five of them would be practicing. Add to this the rich bass and shrill soprano of Mr. and Mrs. Gunn, and you had a sound resembling the work of the most daring experimental composer.
"Let's go to the top," shouted Fidelio as soon as they got inside. "It's a bit quieter up there."
Runner Bean dragged himself up the stairs behind the boys, flinching every time he passed a room where a drum, or a trumpet, a horn or a cello, was being beaten, blown, or scraped.
At the top of the house, there was a shady attic where the Gunns kept their broken instruments. The two boys made themselves comfortable on a large crate, and Charlie gave Fidelio a more detailed account of his dealings with Skarpo. But he found that he wasn't yet ready to tell even his best friend about his mysterious journey over the sea.
Fidelio listened thoughtfully to Charlie's story and then he said, "You'd better stay out of your grandma's way today And let's put that plant in water before it dies."
Down they went again, passing children with freckled faces and brown curly hair who all patted Runner Bean and greeted Charlie like a long-lost brother. Into the kitchen, where a singing Mrs. Gunn was making banana sandwiches and real lemonade.
"That looks like a powerful weed!" she exclaimed when Charlie drew the vervain out of its bag. "Do you want me to put it in a pot?"
“Actually Mom, Charlie needs to hide it from his grandma," said Fidelio. "So it wouldn't be any good in a pot. And it's not a weed, it's a special herb."
“Aha!" sang Mrs. Gunn. "We can still plant the roots. I'll snip off some leaves and you can hide them under your T-shirt when you go, Charlie. The rest of the plant will be here when you need it."
Charlie handed over the vervain, accepted two banana sandwiches (one for himself and one for Runner Bean), and then he and Fidelio took the yellow dog for a run in the park.
At four o'clock, after several more sandwiches (Stilton cheese and peanut butter, and egg and blackcurrant), Charlie left Gunn House and took Runner Bean back to the Pets' Café. He promised Norton he would call again the next day but he was anxious to gel home before his mother ran into an angry Grandma Bone.
When Charlie reached number nine, however, Grandma Bone had left the house, and his mother was about to take Uncle Paton a cup of tea.
"Can I do it?" begged Charlie. He pulled the sprigs of vervain from under his T-shirt and put them on the table. "I want Uncle Paton to try some of this."
Mrs. Bone frowned. "Where did you get it, Charlie?"
"From Aunt Eustacia," he confessed. “Actually I stole it, and there may be a bit of trouble."
His mother gave him one of her anxious smiles. "There's bound to be," she said. "Let's hope it works before your grandmother comes back." She snipped off a few leaves, put them in a teacup, and filled it up with boiling water.
Charlie watched the water turn bright green. It looked dangerous. Was Skarpo tricking them?
"I hope it doesn't do more harm than good," said Mrs. Bone. "It looks very powerful."
"It may be Uncle Paton's last chance, Mom," said Charlie desperately.
He waited until the vervain tea had cooled and then took it up to his uncle, with the rest of the herb tucked under his arm.
Paton was lying in semidarkness. The curtains were closed, and from the thin light trickling into the room you would never have guessed that outside was a bright summer afternoon.
Charlie put the tea on his uncle's bedside table and whispered, "Uncle Paton, I've brought you a drink."
Paton groaned.
"Please take a sip. It'll make you feel better."
Paton raised himself on one elbow
"Here." Charlie held out the cup.
Paton's eyes were still half-closed and his hand trembled when he grasped the cup. Charlie watched intently as his uncle raised the tea to his lips.
"Go on," said Charlie. "Drink it."
“Anyone would think you were trying to poison me." Paton made a funny choking noise that was probably a laugh.
"I'm trying to help you," Charlie whispered earnestly
His uncle opened his eyes properly and looked at Charlie. "Very well," he said and took a sip. "Ugh! What is this?"
"Vervain," said Charlie. "You remember the sorcerer said it would cure you. And I've brought the rest." He laid the leafy stems on his uncle's bed.
"Looks like a weed," Paton observed. "I can guess where you've been, Charlie." He gave a real chuckle and took another sip, and then another.
Charlie waited while his uncle drained the cup.
"Not bad," said Paton. "Not bad at all. Bless you, Charlie." He lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes.
Charlie took the empty cup from his uncle's hands and tiptoed out of the room.
"Did it work?" asked Mrs. Bone when Charlie^came back into the kitchen.
"I don't know, Mom. But he looked kind of peaceful. It'll probably take awhile."
They found themselves talking softly and moving as quietly as they could. TV was out of the question. It seemed as though the air in the house had become charged with mysterious and delicate spirits that could be disturbed by the slightest breath of wind, the tiniest sound.
It grew dark, but Grandma Bone didn't come home. Charlie imagined that a meeting was taking place in Darkly Wynd. They would be plotting to put him in his place, once and for all. He glanced at his mother, reading at the kitchen table, and hoped that whatever might be coming his way wouldn't hurt her as well.
Suddenly Mrs. Bone looked up from her book. "Did you hear that?"
Charlie did hear it. Upstairs a door was opening. The floorboards creaked. A moment later the sound of running water could be heard. A bath was filling up.
When the tap stopped running, the silence was so profound that Charlie could hear the beat of his own heart. And then a strange perfume stole through the house, a perfume laced with magic.
CHAPTER 15
LYS
ANDER'S PLAN
Charlie opened his eyes and looked at the kitchen clock. It was midnight. His mother was washing-~a~ saucepan in the sink.
"I've only just woken up," she said, putting two mugs of cocoa on the table. "I don't know what came over us, Charlie."
"Uncle Paton had a bath," Charlie muttered. "I remember hearing the water running, and then I fell asleep."
"Me, too," said Mrs. Bone. "Your grandmother is still out. Let's get to bed before she comes home."
They drank their cocoa and slipped upstairs. As Charlie passed his uncle's door he stopped and listened. Not a sound came from Paton's room. Not even a snore. Charlie crept into his own room with a worried frown.
Just as he was getting into bed, he heard a car pull up outside. A door slammed and Grandma Bone called out, "Good night, Eustacia. I'll fix the little brute, don't you worry."
Charlie pulled the covers over his head and tried not to think about meeting Grandma Bone in the morning.
He woke up very early tiptoed down to the kitchen, and ate a bowl of cereal. He thought of leaving his mother a note explaining he'd be out for the day though he hadn't decided where he would go. Anything would be better than facing Grandma Bone.
But it was already too late for a note. Too late to run out of the house. Charlie froze as a pair of large feet thumped down the stairs. They crossed the hall and the kitchen door opened.
"Caught you!" Grandma Bone stood on the threshold in her evil-looking gray bathrobe.
"'Morning, Grandma," said Charlie as casually as he could.
"I suppose you thought you'd get away before I woke up."
"N-no."
"Don't lie. You're in big trouble, Charlie Bone." His grandmother marched into the kitchen and glared down at Charlie. "What were you doing in my sister's garden? No, don't bother to answer. You were stealing. And those friends of yours were no better. Eustacia's in a terrible state. She almost had a heart attack."
"Sorry," mumbled Charlie.
"Sony's not good enough. You'll have to pay!" screeched Grandma Bone. "Dr. Bloor will be notified, and you'll stay here till we've decided what to do with you."
"Not go out?" asked Charlie. "Not even to school?"
"NO. Not for a month at least."
