by Jenny Nimmo
"Do you think... ," began Fidelio.
The bathroom door opened and Dagbert Endless looked in. Charlie noticed that he was shaking and wondered if they would soon be engulfed in one of Dagbert's underwater illusions.
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Dagbert stepped into the bathroom, closed the door softly behind him, and came to sit beside Charlie. There was a long silence while Charlie and Fidelio tried to think what to say. The whiff of fish that usually hung about Dagbert had been replaced by the tang of seaweed; it was a raw, melancholy scent.
After several silent seconds had elapsed, Dagbert said, "I'm sorry."
Charlie turned to look at him. In the faint light from the window, Dagbert appeared to be a bluish green.
"Are you saying that you're sorry about Tancred?" asked Fidelio.
Dagbert nodded. "About Tancred and about the things my father is going to do. He's brought his Sea Globe here and means to drown your parents with it, Charlie."
Charlie said, "I know."
"You do?" Dagbert seemed surprised. "I... I'm sorry. If I could stop him I would, but I'm not strong enough yet.
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And if I tried without the seven sea-gold charms, the globe would swallow me. My father's often warned me that would happen."
"And if you had the charms?" asked Fidelio. "Could you destroy the Sea Globe then?"
Dagbert shrugged, and then he said, "I'm not like THEM, you know. I'm not with Manfred and Joshua and the Bloors."
"I didn't think you were," said Charlie quietly.
"Sometimes I can't help doing what I do," Dagbert continued in a desperate voice. "I just find myself getting angry or scared, and the world turns to water all around me."
"Look, Dagbert," Charlie said. "I happen to know that Joshua is going to try and find your sea-gold charms, wherever you've hidden them. I'll do everything I can to stop him, but I might not be able to."
"They're... ," Dagbert began.
"Don't tell me," said Charlie sharply. "Manfred might try and get it out of me."
"OK."
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Fidelio suggested that they should go to bed before they froze to death. The bathrooms in Bloor's Academy were the coldest rooms in the building.
Charlie woke up feeling that it was going to be a rather difficult day. One look at Dagbert's troubled face reminded him that he would have to watch Joshua Tilpin's every move. It wouldn't be easy. Joshua was in the first year, Charlie in the second. Joshua took art, not music. He ate in a different cafeteria, changed his shoes in a different coatroom, and had assembly with another group. Charlie could only hope that Dagbert had hidden the charms outside.
Dagbert had done just that. Joshua made his move during the first break. He had been practicing with some of his mother's jewelry and was now fairly confident that he could attract gold. But where to start? He had to have some hint of where the sea-gold charms might be.
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In the end it was Dagbert who gave the game away. He was lost without the charms and so anxious about their safety, he began to gravitate toward them.
Snow lying on the field had been turned to a muddy slush by three hundred pairs of feet. But there were still some children who could not give up a last attempt at making snowballs. Joshua and the Branko twins were among them. But while he collected handfuls of slopping ice, Joshua was watching Dagbert out of the corner of his eye.
Charlie was kicking a soccer ball about with Emma and Fidelio. Emma looked depressed. Olivia was nowhere to be seen. Charlie made a half turn to see if Joshua was still with the Branko twins and found that he wasn't. So where was he?
"Where's Joshua?" Charlie shouted.
Fidelio pointed to a small figure walking stealthily up to the castle.
"OK. I'm off," said Charlie.
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"I'll come with you," Fidelio offered.
Charlie shook his head. "Better not. It'll look too obvious."
"What's going on?" Emma asked irritably.
Fidelio mouthed, Tell you in a minute.
Trying to look casual but putting on speed whenever he thought no one was looking, Charlie hurried after Joshua. He saw him disappear under the great red arch, waited a few seconds, and then dashed after him. Joshua had vanished again. Charlie found himself staring at the five small arches set into a stone wall, all of them leading into the ruin. Charlie had tried each one before. He knew that the central arch led straight into the castle while beyond the others, four long tunnels twisted their way into the more obscure parts of the ruin. But which route had Dagbert and Joshua taken?
A scream came echoing up the tunnel on the far left. Charlie groaned. Dagbert had chosen the most difficult way in. There was nothing for it but to follow him.
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As Charlie plunged into the tunnel, there was another scream, this one more terrible than the last. It was a scream of terror and despair.
Slipping and sliding down the wet, musty tunnel, Charlie groped desperately for the wall to steady himself, but the bricks were slimy with mildew, and Charlie slithered on, now falling to his knees, now on all fours. He emerged at last on a snow-covered bank. Tall trees on either side of him sighed in a wind that had suddenly blown up, filled with the scent of the sea.
Below Charlie, in a patch of muddy snow, Dagbert and Joshua were fighting around a large black rock. Lying on its smooth surface were the seven sea-gold charms. Dagbert must have hidden them beneath the rock, Charlie realized, but Joshua had drawn them out of their hiding place.
Charlie slid down the bank. As he reached the bottom, Joshua suddenly gave Dagbert a shove and he fell back into the snow.
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"Mine!" cried Joshua, holding up his hand, and the golden charms floated over to him. He closed his fist over them and began to run up the bank.
"No, you don't!" Charlie shouted, grabbing Joshua's ankle.
Down he came, with a yell of pain.
"Drop those charms, Joshua Tilpin," said Charlie, clinging to Joshua. "They're not yours."
"And they're not yours, either," screamed Joshua. "Get off me, Charlie Bone." He kicked out with his other foot, catching Charlie on the nose. Blood poured into Charlie's mouth and he let go of Joshua's ankle.
Dagbert rushed at Joshua and seized his hands. He tore at the puny fingers and pried them open, but the charms stuck to Joshua's palms like barnacles.
"Give them to me!" cried Dagbert, peeling the fish off Joshua's skin while the small boy writhed like an eel.
Charlie straightened up and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Blood was now dripping onto his sweater.
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Dagbert tore a crab from Joshua's open palm, but the fish boy was beginning to shake like a leaf.
"I'll get the rest," Charlie told Dagbert. "Take a break!"
Dagbert rolled onto his back, clutching the two charms. Joshua began to crawl up the bank again, and Charlie was about to grab him when the air seemed to shiver and a flash of light streamed over their heads, striking the earth with an earsplitting twang.
A long sword rocked to and fro, its tip stuck fast in the earth an inch from Charlie's hand.
"Get thee gone, wretched boys," said a voice. "Or suffer the wrath of my sword."
Charlie turned his head, very slowly, afraid of what he would see. And there was Ashkelan Kapaldi, standing on the black rock, his hands on his hips, and on his face the mocking smile of his portrait.
"Give me thy charms, Dagbert Endless," said Ashkelan, holding out a gloved hand.
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Dagbert shook his head and clutched the two charms to his chest.
Ashkelan lost his smile. "Tis a pity," he sighed. "Sword, do thy work."
"Dagbert!" cried Charlie as the sword flipped out of the earth and came at Dagbert, its deadly tip pointing at his heart. Dagbert jumped back, but the sword followed him. Charlie couldn't bear to look. He was about to close his eyes when, in a blaze of light, a white horse leaped out of the trees and another sword, held by a knight in glit
tering chain mail, caught the lethal weapon and tossed it sideways.
"Vile, cursed, hateful knight!" screamed Ashkelan. "Thou shall not have it thy way."
Ahskelan's sword swung in an arc and sliced the air with whining, hissing strokes. It came at the knight's arm, but the white mare flew sideways.
The three boys sat on the bank, petrified and entranced, while the knight, his red plume flying and his cloak filling like a scarlet cloud, struck and parried the enchanted sword. Ashkelan stood on the rock,
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uttering a stream of incomprehensible commands, but suddenly he fell silent, waiting for his sword to find a position from where it could strike a fatal blow.
The white mare paced between Ashkelan and the bank, while the enchanted sword hovered at the edge of the trees above the boys. Joshua was so frightened he loosened his grip and the five remaining charms trickled out of his hand.
"The charms," Charlie whispered.
Dagbert grabbed them.
Joshua yelled and caught Dagbert's hand.
As the Red Knight turned to look at them, Ashkelan shrieked a command and the sword came flying at the knight's throat. With a warning scream, the horse reared up, tilting the knight out of harm's way. The sword swept past her thrashing hooves and entered Asheklan's chest, just above the leather belt that held his scabbard. The swordsman fell back with a moan, the sword buried deep in his heart.
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The knight removed his gauntlet and laid a bare hand on the white mare's neck, calming her instantly. He turned his head, and Charlie found himself staring at the dark holes in the blank, featureless helmet. Whose eyes were looking out at him? he wondered. Was the face behind the steel mask known to him?
The knight sheathed his sword and lifted his hand, briefly, in farewell. The horse whinnied and they left the scene, trotting quickly into the dense wood that filled the ruin.
For a moment the three boys were too stunned to speak, and then Charlie cried, "Run, Dagbert, run!"
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13. THE ROARING WAVE
yagbert ran. No one knew where. He wasn't seen for the rest of the day.
Charlie left Joshua sitting on the snowy bank, cradling his hand and whimpering, "Mom, Mom, Mom."
As Charlie made his way back to the school, he began to wonder who would be blamed for the death of Ashkelan Kapaldi. "But he's dead already," Charlie told himself.
Only Joshua saw what really happened to the swordsman's body. He was rubbing his eyes with a muddy fist and at first he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. A snowy mist began to seep into the glade, covering the broken walls, burying the trees, and seeping around the black rock. The mist was filled with the sounds of battle: steel on steel, leather creaking, hooves thundering, men screaming, and cannons booming.
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Joshua put his hands over his ears and watched in disbelief as the sword lifted itself out of Ashkelan's chest and lay down beside him. And then Ashkelan's body was raised from the rock -- and vanished.
Joshua stopped whimpering. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. "Gone!" he murmured. "How?"
Joshua didn't know that, by a strange coincidence, Ashkelan Kapaldi met his second death in exactly the same way he had met his first. He had, in fact, been killed by his own sword during the Battle of Edgehill in 1642. The sword didn't mean to kill its master, of course. It was just unfortunate that Ahskelan happened to be in its way, both times.
When he got back to the school, Charlie tried to clean himself up in the blue coatroom. He remembered that bloodstains could be removed with cold water, but he didn't make a very good job of it. Luckily, his cape covered most of his sweater, and
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his nose had stopped bleeding by the time he reached Madame Tessier's classroom.
"What happened?" whispered Fidelio as Charlie took the desk beside him.
"Tell you later," said Charlie.
"Shhh!" commanded Madame Tessier. "Regardez vos livres!"
Charlie didn't get another chance to talk to Fidelio until lunchtime. Gabriel carried his bowl of soup over to their table just as Charlie was describing the battle in the ruin. When he had finished, Gabriel looked very excited.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed.
Several children looked in their direction and Fidelio said, "Keep your voice down, Gabe."
Lowering his voice, Gabriel said, "I took a good look at Ashkelan's portrait when I passed it, and do you know, I could swear I saw a kind of light in his eyes that wasn't there while he was 'out.""
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"He's back where he belongs," said Charlie grimly.
Fidelio looked around the cafeteria. "Where's Dagbert?" he said. "He should have been in French."
Charlie frowned. "I'm sure he's got all his charms. But he's at risk now. Mrs. Tilpin's going to be furious. I hope he's somewhere safe."
"That sounds a bit odd, coming from you," Gabriel remarked.
Charlie stared into his bowl of soup. "He needs our help," he said.
The storm began when Mr. Pope was halfway through giving a history test. The teacher's heavy-jowled face was always an angry shade of red. Even when he wasn't furious, he was grouchy. The windows in his classroom fitted very badly and on windy days their constant rattle drove Mr. Pope into a frenzy. He would thump his desk and roar out his questions, confusing his class and even himself.
The wind had blown up from nowhere. One minute the air was calm, the next, hail was beating on the windowpanes,
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thunderclaps reverberating through the building, and the draft from the ill-fitting windows whipped spitefully around everyone's legs.
"How am I supposed to teach in a storm like this?" screeched Mr. Pope. "I'm going to stop this test and go home if it continues."
Realizing that he'd said something silly because, of course, no one would have minded if he went home, Mr. Pope muttered, "I suppose you have all heard about the storms at sea? No, I suppose you haven't." Televisions and radios were allowed only in the sixth year. "Well, I shall enlighten you." There was another deafening clap of thunder, and Mr. Pope looked up to heaven. When the thunder had rumbled away, he said, "Severe weather in the southern hemisphere has caused havoc on the coasts. Many drowned. Ships wrecked. Boats lost." His last words were shouted above another violent rumble.
Charlie put up his hand.
"What is it, Charlie Bone?" Mr. Pope asked irritably.
"Did you say boats, sir?" asked Charlie.
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"Yes, BOATS! Are you deaf?" Mr. Pope bellowed. "The storms have been appalling. Waves a hundred feet high. Wouldn't fancy my odds in a boat. They don't stand a chance." He nodded at the rattling window. "Mind you, this is just a breeze compared with the tempests out at sea. But that's no consolation when you've GOT TO TEACH HISTORY TO A GROUP OF NITWITS!" And with that, Mr. Pope gathered up his books and strode out of the classroom, banging the door behind him.
As soon as the teacher had gone, Simon Hawke leaped up from his desk, yawned, stretched, and said, "We've got twenty minutes before the next lesson. Let's do some push-ups."
Boys groaned and girls made scornful remarks. Undeterred, cheerful Simon spread himself on the floor and began to do his exercises.
Fidelio leaned over to Charlie, saying, "Let's go."
They left the classroom together. Their next lesson was music. Fidelio had violin with Mr. O'Connor. Charlie was due to see Senor Alvaro. With twenty minutes to spare
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they decided to go and see Cook. They hurried across the hall and down the corridor of portraits, but Charlie slowed down and then stopped altogether beside the portrait of Ashkelan Kapaldi. He leaned closer, staring at the eyes. "I can't see that it's changed," he said.
Fidelio grabbed the back of his cape. "You'll be in there with him if you don't look out," he said. "Don't forget, Gabe's kind of clairvoyant. Come on, we've only got fifteen minutes now."
They had almost reached the blue cafeteria when Dr. Saltwea
ther came striding out and asked them what they were doing. Fidelio explained that Mr. Pope couldn't teach in a storm. The music master smiled. "If he thinks this is bad, he should try a bit of sea fishing," he said, and then he glanced at Charlie.
"Is it really that bad?" asked Charlie.
Dr. Saltweather nodded. "I'm afraid it is, Charlie."
Charlie swallowed. He could taste the tomato soup he'd had for lunch, and hoped he wasn't going to be sick. "My parents are whale watching, sir."
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"I know, Charlie," said the music master.
"Do you think..."
Fidelio broke in, saying, "Do you know about the Sea Globe, sir?"
Charlie stared at Fidelio, surprised that he had mentioned the Sea Globe to a master. Dr. Saltweather frowned for a moment, then he said, "I have heard that it is here."
"And do you believe that Lord Grimwald can control the oceans with it?" Charlie blurted out.
Dr. Saltweather took a deep breath before saying, "How could I not believe, Charlie? Cook is my friend." He marched off down the hallway, his hands clasped behind his back and his big head bent.
"Can you help, sir?" Charlie called after him. "Can you stop him?"
Dr. Saltweather murmured softly in reply, and then turned down another hall.
Charlie clutched Fidelio's arm. "What did he say? Did you hear?"
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Fidelio's musical ear had picked up the music master's rueful answer. "I think he said, "Only the son can do that.""
"He means Dagbert," said Charlie, "and Dagbert will do it."
"What makes you think that?"
Charlie shrugged. "We have to find him, Fido."
