Children of the Red King Book 07 Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock

by Jenny Nimmo

  "I'm trying to get you out of there, Runner," Charlie would murmur, but try as he might, he couldn't reach the dog trapped in Badlock, a place that might not even exist in the real world. Someone had created a barrier between Charlie and the poor creature he longed to rescue. Charlie had a very good idea who it was, for he met the same impenetrable wall whenever he tried to enter the Red King's portrait.

  Uncle Paton had retreated to his room to consider the problem. In his opinion, Billy Raven was

  97

  the one to unlock the mystery of Runner Bean's incarceration, for there was a chance that the pale, white-haired boy might somehow communicate with the dog in the painting.

  But Billy was imprisoned in Bloor's Academy, and there was no likelihood of his being released at this late hour on a Sunday. They would have to wait for next weekend, when Charlie must make sure that Billy came home with him.

  "A week might be too long," Charlie declared, thinking of Oddthumb and his partiality for dog meat.

  Maisie, her usually cheerful face creased with worry, turned on the kitchen television. "There's nothing we can do for now, Charlie," she said, "so we might as well cheer ourselves up."

  Charlie couldn't agree. He was about to go back to the cellar when Grandma Bone came downstairs, dressed up for an evening out with her sisters. Charlie stood by the cellar door, watching the tall figure stride to the front door. Though knowing it

  98

  would be useless, Charlie couldn't stop himself from calling out to her.

  "Grandma! Please, please, do you know why my friend's dog got locked in that painting?"

  Grandma Bone hesitated.

  Charlie walked toward her. "If you know why it's happened, can you tell me how I can get Runner Bean out of there?"

  "I hope you've done your homework," said Grandma Bone. "School tomorrow." She turned the door handle.

  "PLEASE, Grandma!" begged Charlie.

  Without another word his grandmother opened the front door and swept out, leaving the wind to slam the door behind her.

  "Thanks, Grandma!" Charlie muttered.

  He had only taken a few steps back to the cellar when the doorbell rang. Had Grandma Bone forgotten her keys? Charlie was tempted to ignore the bell, but it continued to ring in a rather frantic way. Whoever it was, with their finger glued to the bell,

  99

  they weren't going to give up until someone answered.

  Charlie trudged back to the front door. He had hardly turned the handle when a small brown-haired woman in a man's tweed suit and cap burst into the hall. Charlie just about recognized Benjamin's mother, Mrs. Brown.

  "Charlie, where's your uncle?" Mrs. Brown demanded.

  "He's busy." Charlie knew that Uncle Paton hated to be disturbed at dusk, when all the lights came on. "If it's about Runner ..."

  "Of COURSE it is!" cried Mrs. Brown. "What have you done? Benjamin's distraught, inconsolable..."

  "I know ... ," Charlie began.

  "You don't know, Charlie Bone, or you wouldn't have done it."

  "But I..."

  "Paton!" Mrs. Brown called up the stairs. "I know you're there. I saw your candle in the window. I MUST speak to you."

  100

  A door opened and Uncle Paton appeared at the top of the stairs. "What is it, Patricia?" he said brusquely.

  ""What is it?" You know very well," said Mrs. Brown. "You've got Benjamin's dog in here, and we want him back."

  "He's not exactly in... ," Charlie tried to tell her.

  Apparently, Mrs. Brown would rather Charlie didn't exist. "Be quiet," she said. "I'm talking to your uncle. Where is Runner Bean? I want to see him."

  "If you insist." Uncle Paton went back to his room and reappeared with a candle. "Kindly refrain from switching on the lights," he said as he descended the staircase.

  "I wouldn't dream of it," said Mrs. Brown.

  Uncle Paton led her down into the cellar, while Charlie followed a few steps behind. When Mrs. Brown saw Runner Bean's painted image, howling silently out of the nightmarish landscape, she gave a shriek and clasped her face in her hands.

  "What happened?" she gasped.

  101

  "Benjamin was incoherent. I couldn't make sense of what he told me."

  Charlie began to explain, and this time Mrs. Brown allowed him to tell the whole story, or at least Runner Bean's part in it. Charlie omitted most of the details about Badlock and didn't disclose that the man who rescued him was a giant.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Brown at last. "How are you going to get our dog out of there?"

  "I was hoping you'd help, Patricia," Uncle Paton said wryly. "You being a detective."

  "Don't be flippant, Paton," she snapped. "I can't deal with... with all this magic stuff. Oh, sometimes I wish Benjamin and Charlie had never become friends. I shouldn't have let it go on, once I knew that Charlie was... different."

  Paton glared at her. "You let their friendship continue because Maisie looks after your son while you're gallivanting around the country disguised as Sherlock Holmes." He walked away from the

  102

  painting and began to climb the steps. "Come on, Charlie."

  Charlie dumbly followed.

  "I'm sorry," called Mrs. Brown, scrambling after them. "I shouldn't have said those things. I'm just so worried about Ben."

  Maisie popped out of the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee, Irish?" she asked gently.

  Mrs. Brown glanced at Paton's stern face. "I... well, yes. That would be nice. If we could discuss things a little more calmly ..."

  Maisie had already lit several candles, and the kitchen counters twinkled with a friendly light. A plate of chocolate cookies sat invitingly on the table, and Uncle Paton was persuaded to join Mrs. Brown and Maisie. "Though I prefer cocoa to coffee," he said.

  "Me too," Charlie agreed.

  The tense atmosphere improved a little, but Mrs. Brown could not seem to rid herself of the worried frown that creased her forehead. "I should be used to it,"

  103

  she said. "I know this city is different from others. I know our houses are built on ancient battlefields, and in places where magic spills out when it's dark. I know things happen that no one can explain, mysteries the police don't even try to solve, evils they dare not acknowledge. And it's daunting sometimes for normal people like Mr. Brown and me - and Benjamin. But something keeps us in this city. I suppose it's because, in spite of everything, we feel there is a great goodness here."

  "The Red King," Charlie said quickly. He felt their eyes on him, and self-consciously, he added, "He's still here."

  "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,

  104

  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.

  105

  "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.

  106

  "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?"

  107

  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

  108

  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

  109

  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

  110

  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

  111

  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.

  112

  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!" Charlie 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 Jo
shua, of course. They were in this dark old room in the basement. And then Manfred came in." Billy threw

  113

  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. Theother endowed children will be arriving very soon, he thought, so Manfred might not have time to do anything too unpleasant.

  114

  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

  115

  hands on the table and bent forward. "So what went wrong?"

  "I... nothing." Charlie was thoroughly confused. "I just forgot."