by Jenny Nimmo
Manfred pondered this before replying, "I don't see why not." He turned to Olivia. "Olivia, show them."
Olivia's head came up. She looked slightly confused.
"An illusion please, Olivia," said Manfred, enunciating every word as though Olivia were deaf.
Olivia blinked and then looked up at the ceiling. When she brought her gaze back to the table, all at once a miniature safari park appeared. Sand covered the table's polished surface, while scrub and acacia trees bloomed from books and pencil cases. Charlie had seen Olivia's larger-than-life illusions, but today she had chosen to captivate rather than terrify.
Among the trees, tiny animals could be seen: elephants, giraffes, lions, zebras, and many others. Faint howls, growls, and shrieks were heard as lions chased their prey and minute birds fluttered out of the branches.
Everyone gazed at the scene in silent wonder. And yet Charlie could not feel enthralled, for there was a coldness in Olivia's blank face, a chilling emptiness. He could see something sparkling in the opening of her purple cape. Olivia often wore sequined scarves or vests, but this was different somehow. Now and again she would twitch her shoulders, as though her clothes were too heavy for her.
"That's enough," Manfred commanded.
The marvelous scene disappeared and Dorcas and the twins stared at Olivia in admiration. Joshua said, "Well done!"
"Get on with your work," said Manfred.
Books were opened and heads bent over them. Pens and pencils set to work, but Charlie couldn't concentrate.
He found himself staring at the gilt-framed painting on the wall. It was an ancient portrait of the Red King, cracked and darkened with age. The king's features were blurred, but his red cloak was still bright and a slim gold crown was just visible in his black hair.
So often Charlie had tried to travel into the past to meet his ancestor, but every attempt had been blocked by the shadow that stood behind the king. Count Harken was an enchanter whose shadow had found its way even into a painting. And it was the shadow that Charlie focused on today. It was the shadow that held Billy Raven captive in Badlock.
"How many times have I told you to stop staring at that portrait?" Manfred's cold voice broke into Charlie's thoughts.
"I haven't counted," said Charlie.
Before Manfred could make another withering remark, Lysander said, "Why is the portrait there if we're not supposed to look at it?"
Taken off guard, Manfred glared speechlessly at Lysander.
Seizing his advantage, Lysander went on, "We are sitting in the Red King's room; he is our ancestor; without the king we would not be here. Does it not strike you as ridiculous, sir, that we should be commanded never to gaze on his portrait?"
What a joy it was to see Manfred's angry, incredulous face. Of all the endowed children, it was only Lysander whom Manfred feared. Lysander could conjure up his spirit ancestors, no mere illusions but ghostly warriors who could throw a spear straight at your heart.
Everyone waited to see what Manfred would do. Eventually the Talents Master made a contemptible remark. "I hope you don't find yourself in the same predicament as your friend," he said, glancing at Dagbert the drowner.
It was obvious that Manfred was referring to Tancred, but Dagbert didn't appear to have heard him. His eyes had a glazed look, and Charlie guessed that he was thinking of his sea-gold charms.
Frowning at Dagbert, Manfred told everyone to get on with their work.
The minutes ticked by. After almost two silent hours the endowed children packed up their homework and made their way to bed.
In the girls' dormitory, Olivia took off her purple cape, revealing a velvet vest covered with shimmering mirrored circles.
"That's very beautiful," Emma remarked.
Olivia gave her a half smile and sauntered off to the bathroom. Emma threw on her bathrobe and began to follow r her. Dorcas Loom was sitting on her bed just inside the door. She was wearing a frilly pink nightgown and trying to straighten her crimpy fair hair. When Emma passed her bed, Dorcas said quietly, "Something wrong with your friend?"
Emma stopped and looked at Dorcas, who added, "What's eating you?"
And suddenly Emma knew that Olivia had been bewitched by that sparkling vest. Because that's what
Dorcas could do; it was what Charlie's great-aunt Venetia prided herself on. Both could make bewitching garments.
Emma ran to the bathroom. Olivia was brushing her hair in the mirror. She had taken off the vest to put on her pajamas, and now the sparkling vest lay on a chair. Seizing her chance, Emma made a grab for it.
"DON'T TOUCH IT!" Olivia's long nails dug into the back of Emma's hand. For a moment Emma resisted. She clung to the vest, but Olivia, raising her hairbrush, brought it down, crack, across Emma's knuckles.
Emma let go with a cry, and Olivia pulled the vest on over her pajamas. "Don't ever do that again," she said.
Emma followed Olivia back into the dormitory. She watched her friend get into bed, still wearing the vest. It scratched and tinkled against the covers, and Emma shuddered. "Night, Liv!" she murmured.
Without replying, Olivia turned over and closed her eyes.
After lights out Charlie and Fidelio went to the bathroom, where they could talk in peace. Fidelio might not have been endowed, but he was Charlie's loyal friend and always would be. Sitting crossed-legged beside Charlie on the bathroom floor, he listened with mounting horror to the account of his best friend's grim weekend.
"I haven't heard about anyone being murdered," whispered Fidelio. "Poor old Mr. Bittermouse."
"It was probably in all the papers this morning," said Charlie. "But the swordsman will be back in his portrait before anyone can catch him."
"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.
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.
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."
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 wou
ld 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.
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.
"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.
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.
"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.
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.
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 glittering 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, 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.
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!"
13
THE ROARING WAVE
Dagbert 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 beli
eve 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.
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 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.""
"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."
