by Jenny Nimmo
"Who are you?" he asked Cook.
"Me?" She smiled. "I'm the lodestone of the house I keep you all from flying off into the dark."
"But your name?"
“Another time."
"Can I come back tomorrow?" asked Charlie. He wanted to know so much.
"Better not," said Cook. "Wait a while. Certain persons will be watching you. And not just persons." She nodded at a fat form that had appeared in the shadows at the back of the room.
Blessed waddled into the light. It was obvious that he wanted to sit in front of the stove, but the three cats gave warning growls and the old dog retreated.
"I've seen him before," exclaimed Henry "He's very old, isn't he?"
"He's a spy" said Cook. "So if you've seen him, he's already told someone about you. Charlie Bone, you'd better go back now Someone might have noticed your bed's empty"
Charlie swallowed the last of his cake and said good night to his cousin. Then he followed Cook through the labyrinth of closets and passages that led to the hall. Here, Cook took a small flashlight from her pocket and gave it to Charlie.
"It has a good light," she said. "Off you go now And I don't tell anyone about tonight. And I mean 'anyone.'"
"My best friend already knows about Henry"
Cook shook her head. "Can't be helped, I suppose. But the fewer people know about Henry the better."
"OK. I promise I won't tell anyone where he is."
Cook watched Charlie cross the hall and begin to mount the stairs. She gave him a quick wave and walked speedily back to her room.
She was pleased to see that Henry Yewbeam had fallen into a deep untroubled sleep. Taking the empty mug out of his warm hand, she replaced it on the dresser. The three cats had finished their milk and were looking at her expectantly so she stepped onto the chair beneath the skylight and opened it once more.
The flames ran to the chair, jumped up onto the back, and from there leaped out through the skylight.
"Thank you, my dears," called Cook. She fastened the skylight and stepped off the chair.
"Now for you," she said to the fat dog that had moved into his favorite place before the stove.
"I know what you are," Cook said to Blessed, "but you've been a good boy up to now and kept my room secret even from your friend Billy Raven."
Blessed looked at Cook and whined softly
"Now, listen. Don't you dare tell that friend of yours about this boy. " She pointed to Henry asleep in the big armchair.
Blessed stared at Cook with sad brown eyes. Athough she didn't speak his language, he knew her well enough to understand exactly what she was saying.
"If you give the game away there'll be no more of Cook’s chops. No more bed by the stove, or walks in the park. You'll be out on your ear, for you're of no use to me, you lazy lump of lard. I've mothered you only out of the goodness of my heart." She wagged a finger at him. Are we clear about this?"
Blessed grunted and heaved himself into his basket. He knew when he was well off.
THE BLACK GLOVE
Cook's flashlight was unusual. Although the beam wasn't very bright, it lit the way ahead in such a way that Charlie could see details that he'd never noticed before. In fact some of the things he passed were definitely different.
For instance, there was a row of paintings along the entire length of a wall beside one of the staircases There was a pair of man-sized boots outside a door, and a pair of satin shoes outside another. On one of the landings, a tall plant grew in a blue china pot, and ivy trailed out of a large brass urn.
"That wasn't there," muttered Charlie.
In spite of these small changes it was easy for Charlie to find his way back. However, he had only taken a few paces down the passage to his dormitory when a narrow beam of brilliant light almost blinded him. Instinctively he turned off Cook's flashlight and waited, hardly daring to breathe.
The blinding light went out. Whoever stood at the other end of the passage was waiting to see what Charlie would do. Charlie cautiously felt his way along the wall. He knew his door was the second on his left. He passed the first door and stopped, listening intently for footsteps. Hearing nothing, he made a rush for his door and ran straight into a body.
Charlie gasped. At the same time the body squeaked, "Ouch! You're standing on my foot."
"Is that you, Billy?" whispered Charlie.
"What if it is?"
"Don't be silly It was just a question." Charlie turned on his flashlight.
Billy Raven blinked up at him. He had a large blob of chocolate on his chin. "Where've you been?" he asked Charlie.
"Where've you been?" said Charlie, lowering Cook's flashlight.
Billy didn't answer.
"I just popped out to the toilet," said Charlie. "I can see you've been to see someone who had a bit of chocolate to spare."
"It's cocoa, actually" said Billy. “And the toilet isn’t down there, it's the other way"
"I just missed it in the dark," said Charlie.
Billy stared at him suspiciously then he pushed past Charlie and went into the dormitory Charlie followed and crept over to his bed. He heard a soft rustling as Billy burrowed under the covers and then there was silence.
Charlie wondered who had been giving Billy cocoa in the middle of the night. Was it a reward for spying? Blessed had seen Henry in Cook's room and Billy could understand the old dog's language. So before long the person who was supplying Billy with cocoa would know about Henry Charlie was too tired to wrestle with the problem anymore Somehow he would have to find a way to warn Cook.
************************************
The next morning, something extraordinary happened. and Charlie's worries about Henry were temporarily forgotten.
Breakfast was almost over when a violent gust of wind came howling down the passage to the dining hall. The doors flew open and the wind roared into the room, sending cups and plates, spoons and knives, spinning off the tables. There were shrieks of terror as sharp pieces of cutlery came zooming through the air. Most of the children pulled their hoods over their heads and ducked under the tables.
Charlie and Fidelio met Olivia crawling behind one of the benches.
“What's going on?" cried Charlie.
“I reckon it's one of Tancred's storms," shouted Olivia. "I heard he had a terrible argument with Lysander last night."
"Tancred? I'd better try and get to him," said Charlie.
"Why? What can you do? It's happened before, you know." Fidelio tugged Charlie's sleeve. "Just leave him to calm down."
"No. I must see him." Charlie couldn't explain why he suddenly had an overpowering need to reach Tancred. Tancred had helped to save him when he was trapped in the ruin and Charlie felt he must at least try to calm him down.
Holding his hood firmly over his head, Charlie crawled to the open door, and then out into the windy passage. The force of Tancred's anger was amazing. Charlie guessed a ninety mile an hour gale was blowing toward him. His nose and mouth were soon full of dust, and the portraits that had been hanging on the walls kept flying off and whirling into his path. Occasionally the sharp corner of a frame whacked his head, or caught the hand that was shielding his face.
Charlie gritted his teeth and kept going. He saw two figures crawling in front of him. Their capes billowed above them like angry purple clouds.
Manfred and Asa , thought Charlie.
The race to reach Tancred was now even more critical. He was likely to be hypnotized if Manfred got to him first, and not just for a few minutes. Tancred might be taken by surprise. Before he knew it, he would be lost �
� put to sleep, like Emma Tolly had been. Her sleep had lasted for eight years.
As Charlie emerged into the hall he could see Manfred and Asa clinging to pieces of furniture. The handle of an oak chest suddenly came off in Asa's hand, and he slid across the floor with a howl of surprise. Manfred had been more successful. His arms were wrapped around the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.
Charlie didn't know how he could stop himself from being blown into the wall. Tancred's furious energy filled every space in the hall. Chairs were tumbling about like matchsticks. As he raised his head, he saw Tancred standing in front of the huge doors leading to the outside world. His blond hair was standing up like a stiff, sparkling brush. A few meters behind him, Dr. Bloor, bent double, was shouting into the wind.
"Tancred Torsson , calm down. Come away from those doors. Immediately!"
Tancred took not the slightest notice. Indeed, Dr. Bloor's voice was almost drowned by the noise.
All at once, Manfred let go of the newel post and began to crawl across the floor toward Tancred.
Charlie knew it was no use shouting a warning. Tancred would never have heard him.
Manfred had almost reached the stormy boy when Tancred wheeled around and, seeing Manfred, let loose such a fierce bolt of electricity the head boy was sent sprawling away from him. At the same time, the massive doors cracked down the middle and, with a loud splintering sound, they flew open.
Tancred turned and marched out, taking his stormy power with him.
Dr. Bloor rushed to close the doors, but they were so badly cracked it was impossible to lock them. The big key Dr. Bloor always carried with him clicked uselessly in the lock.
"Bring the chest," he ordered, waving at Manfred and Asa .
As the two boys pushed the heavy chest across the hall, Charlie got to his feet. The floor was littered with debris. It was incredible how much hidden garbage Tancred's storm had drawn out of the shadowy corners in the hall.
Lying at Charlie's feet was a black leather glove and, almost without thinking, he picked it up and put it in his pocket.
Manfred and Asa gave the big chest a final shove, and it came to rest in front of the doors.
"That'll do for now," said Dr. Bloor. "I'll have to get Weedon to fix it. We don't want anyone else escaping."
It makes this place sound like a prison, thought Charlie.
Some of the other children were peering cautiously into the hall, but it was Charlie whom Manfred saw first.
"Charlie Bone, what are you doing here?" shouted the head boy
"I'm trying to get to assembly," said Charlie.
Manfred could hardly quarrel with that. "Get moving then," he said irritably
Fidelio rushed across the hall and caught up with Charlie just as he was going into the blue coatroom.
"What about that?" whispered Fidelio. "It was practically a hurricane."
In all the excitement many of the children behind them had forgotten the rule of silence.
They were immediately given detention and then dispatched to the kitchen to fetch brooms and dustpans.
"Olivia won't be lonely on Saturday" said Fidelio. "I heard at least six people get detention."
Charlie sat on one of the benches and began to pick off the bits of dust and garbage that clung to his cloak. A great weariness stole over him, and he slumped back against the wall.
"What's up, Charlie?" said Fidelio. "You look done in."
“I wish Tancred hadn't gone," Charlie murmured. “We’ve got to get him back."
“Why?"
“I can't explain. He helped me once, and now he's gone. Suppose he's expelled?"
"He won't be," said Fidelio confidently "The endowed are never expelled. Sooner or later he'll calm down and come back."
"I hope it's sooner," muttered Charlie. He wasn't mistaken. Without Tancred there was something definitely amiss.
That night Charlie was the first to reach the King's room with his homework. Gabriel came in a few seconds later. He looked ill at ease. Carefully placing his books beside Charlie's, he said, "Something's wrong."
"It's Tancred, isn't it?" said Charlie. "I feel sort of unbalanced."
"Me, too," said Gabriel. "We've got to get him back. Will you come with me over the weekend, Charlie?"
"To Tancred's house?"
Gabriel nodded. "It's not far from where I live. But it's a pretty stormy place. They call it Thunder House.”
"Does anyone else in his family have an — er — weather talent?" asked Charlie.
"I'll say His dad's really turbulent."
"Oh." Charlie wasn't sure if he was looking forward to this mission.
"Where on earth is everyone else?" muttered Gabriel. "They're ten minutes late. Manfred's nearly always here first."
Lysander walked into the King's room clutching a pile of sketches. His usually cheerful face looked troubled and confused. "I thought I was late," he said "Where's everyone else?"
Charlie shrugged. "They've all disappeared — like Tancred." He immediately regretted his words because Lysander looked even more depressed.
"What went on between you two?" Gabriel asked Lysander.
"It was a misunderstanding," muttered Lysander. "Manfred's fault. He asked if Tancred had made it warmer just for me. Tancred shouted that it was nothing to do with him, and I said, ' Don't get upset, Tanc , I’m really grateful.'"
"But Tancred doesn't do temperature, right?" said Gabriel.
"Too right." Lysander slumped in his chair. “And he's so touchy about things like that, he hit the roof. I forgot, you see. He's my best friend and I forgot. You know I think Manfred made me forget. He didn't exactly hypnotize me, but he was staring at me in a funny way I was sort of disabled."
"We're going up to the Thunder House on Saturday," said Gabriel. "Come with us. He's more likely to listen to you."
"Don't know about that," said Lysander glumly "But sure, I'll come."
The three boys sat in gloomy silence for a while, and then, because there didn't seem anything better to do, Charlie brought the black glove out of his pocket. He laid it on the table saying, "I found this in the hall, when Tancred had gone."
"It's not Tanc's ," said Lysander. "Probably some old thing that's been lying under a closet for years."
The glove was made of very soft leather. The fingers were long and narrow and there was an opening at the wrist, with four small leather buttons on one side, and four neat holes on the other.
Gabriel frowned at the glove. He stretched out his hand. Charlie found himself crying, "Don't, Gabriel!"
But it was too late. Gabriel had pulled the glove on to his left hand. His face suddenly creased with pain and he let out a terrible moan.
Charlie reached out to pull off the glove, but Gabriel fell forward, his head crashing onto the table.
"He's fainted," cried Lysander. "What's going on?"
"It's the glove. You know Gabriel's gift. He can feel what happened to the people who wore things before him."
"The owner of that glove must've been hurt pretty badly," said Lysander. He touched Gabriel's head. "He's gone cold."
"Gabriel! Gabriel, wake up!" cried Charlie. He tried to pull the glove off Gabriel's hand but it was stuck fast.
Gabriel turned his head. "My hand! Oooo , my hand," he groaned.
"Il's the glove," Charlie told him. "I can't get it off you."
" Oooow !" Gabriel sat up and began to tear at the glove with his right hand. "My fingers are broken. Help! Help, someone!"
Charlie tugged
the fingers of the glove while Lysander tried to peel it away from Gabriel's wrist. It was no use. Gabriel was now panting heavily. Between small grunts of pain, he said, "She put her fingers on the door and he slammed it."
"Who?" asked Charlie. "Who slammed it?"
"A woman, I think. Yes, a woman. She was trying to get out, and she was shaking her head like she wouldn't do what they wanted." Gabriel gave another moan. "But the boy 1 think it was Manfred, he slammed the door and pushed and pushed until he crushed her fingers. Oooow . Oooh ! Manfred it is but he's smaller. Ooow !" Gabriel's head fell forward again.
At that moment there was a tap on the door and Olivia looked in. "There you are," she said. "Fidelio sent me to look for you. He couldn't get away because he's in the front row"
"Front row?" said Charlie.
"Don't tell me you all forgot," said Olivia. "There's a concert in the theater tonight. What's wrong with Gabriel?"
"He's not well," said Lysander.
"I can see that, but you'd better get him to the theater quickly if you don't want detention."
"Gabriel, can you walk?" Lysander asked gently
Gabriel moaned. "If I have to."
"Come on, then. Charlie, help me!"
Lysander pulled the stricken boy upright, and putting Gabriel's arm around his shoulders, clutched him by the waist. Charlie did the same. He got the arm with the glove on it, and it worried him to see how limp and crushed Gabriel's left hand looked.
"I'd better go ahead and make sure there are three seats in the back for you." Olivia rushed off.
By the time the three boys had staggered into the dark theater, the concert had begun.
"You'll have to manage on your own for a bit," Lysander whispered to Gabriel.
"Uh!" Gabriel grunted.
Olivia had been as good as her word and there were three empty seats waiting for them at the back of the auditorium. Charlie pulled the sleeve of Gabriel's cape over the black glove, and helped Lysander maneuver him into a seat.
Unfortunately Dr. Saltweather saw the boys come in late. He frowned at them and shook his head, then turned his attention back to the stage. Dr. Bloor was making a speech about music, and it soon became clear that he was describing the life and work of the other man on the stage: Mr. Albert Tuccini .
