by Jenny Nimmo
‘What brings you here so late in the day, Charlie Bone?’ Dr Bloor demanded.
‘Matron sent me.’ The words stuck in Charlie’s throat and came bubbling out as if he were gargling.
‘What?’ Ezekiel put a hand to his ear. ‘Speak up, boy.’
‘Matron sent me,’ shouted Charlie.
‘No need to shout,’ said Dr Bloor, ‘we’re not deaf.’
‘No, sir.’
‘So? Come on, why did Matron send you? What have you done now?’
‘Can you never keep out of trouble?’ Ezekiel gave Charlie a black-toothed grin.
‘I try,’ said Charlie. ‘But sometimes I am falsely accused.’
‘I hope you’re not blaming members of staff.’ The headmaster gave Charlie one of his dead-eyed glares.
Charlie shifted from foot to foot. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Not exactly. What have you been accused of, Bone?’
‘Of making girls faint, sir.’
Dr Bloor raised an eyebrow. ‘And how, pray, did you achieve that?’
‘That’s just it, sir. I didn’t,’ Charlie blurted out. ‘There was this alligator in the passage, an illusion and –’
‘What?’ Ezekiel whirled his wheelchair away from the fireplace and drew up in front of Charlie. ‘So it’s you. You, who have been creating illusions, frightening people to death.’
‘NO!’ cried Charlie. ‘It’s not. I can’t. If I could, I’d have done it ages ago.’
Ezekiel Bloor’s small black eyes darted over Charlie’s face, as though seeking the truth from his slightest change of expression.
‘He didn’t do it, Grandfather,’ said Dr Bloor. ‘I believe it’s someone who has only recently discovered their endowment. And Charlie knows who it is.’
‘Yesss!’ Ezekiel spat the word. ‘Yess! He knows. Who is it, Charlie?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Liar!’ The old man’s cane was hidden in the folds of his tartan rug and Charlie didn’t see it until, in a blur of white, it slashed across his knees.
‘Owww!’ yelled Charlie.
‘You know who it is,’ said Ezekiel. ‘And now we must know. We have to, you see. Every child who is endowed must be known to us.’
‘Well,’ said Charlie, thinking fast as he rubbed his knees, ‘I haven’t a clue. Nor have any of us. It took us completely by surprise. I mean we knew there were twelve of us – if you include Manfred – so imagine how we felt when, out of the blue, someone started creating illusions.’ Charlie paused, worried that he had gone too far. ‘Perhaps it’s one of the teachers.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ Ezekiel lifted his cane but Charlie stepped out of the way just in time.
‘Let it go, Grandfather.’ Dr Bloor spoke slowly, his tone full of menace. ‘We’ll find out in time. And then, oh dear, they’ll be in for it. Nasty, crafty, sneaking child. And you’ll be in for it too, Charlie Bone, for lying.’
Into the wilderness
The trouble with Olivia, in Charlie’s opinion, was that she could never see the error of her ways.
‘This time she’ll have to,’ Charlie said to himself when he heard voices coming from inside the ruin. He’d spent almost the whole of first break looking for Olivia. He should have known she’d be hiding in the castle.
‘Got you!’ cried Charlie, leaping through the arch. But all thoughts of telling Olivia off left him when he saw the chaos in the courtyard. The huge flagstones were cracked and broken. Shattered fragments lay everywhere and there was a dark hole in place of one of the larger stones. The great slab lay in two pieces beside the gap.
‘What on earth?’ gasped Charlie.
‘I know – weird, isn’t it?’ Emma, standing close to Olivia, nervously chewed a strand of blonde hair.
‘This is the result of a search,’ Olivia pronounced. ‘You can tell. And I reckon that whoever was searching found what they wanted under that slab.’
Charlie peered down into the rectangle of dark soil. In the centre there was a square indentation defined by rotting strips of wood, as though a small box had lain there. The lid had obviously decayed and now the box-like shape was packed with earth and leaves. But in the middle the outline of a circle could still be clearly seen. The box had contained something round with a slim oval attached – could it be a handle? From the sharp contours of the circle it appeared that the object had only recently been removed. Charlie thought of the ‘artefact’ his uncle had mentioned being ripped from the earth.
‘Let’s get away from here,’ said Emma. ‘It gives me the creeps.’
As they made their way out of the ruin, Charlie brought up the subject of the alligator. ‘What were you thinking of, you dolt?’ he asked Olivia, carefully stepping out of reach of her witchy-looking mauve shoes. ‘I mean, an alligator – right outside the dorms.’
‘I was sick of all the moaning.’ Olivia adjusted the mauve bandanna on her head. ‘They were all going on about their lost kittens and disappearing dogs and stuff and . . .’ a wicked sparkle came into her eye. ‘Did you know that the Looms’ revolting Rottweilers were missing? Dorcas has never liked them but she was grizzling like a drain. ‘Oh, my poor brothers, they’ve lost their dogs.’ So I thought an alligator would cheer her up.’
Olivia was a brilliant actress and Charlie couldn’t help smiling at her impression of Dorcas Loom. ‘You’ll scare someone to death, Liv, and then what’ll we do? You’ll be found out and then you’ll be finished. The Bloors are desperate to know who’s creating the illusions.’
Olivia grinned. ‘I won’t be found out.’
‘You might,’ said Emma. ‘And then you won’t be able to help us. Remember, you’re our secret weapon.’
Olivia gave a huge sigh. ‘OK. I promise to cool it for a while, but I tell you, it’s so much fun scaring people out of their wits. People who deserve it, of course.’
Charlie looked away from her. ‘Being endowed isn’t supposed to be fun.’ He could hardly believe what he had just said. The words just popped out of his mouth without his knowing they were there.
‘That’s a very un-Charlie-ish thing to say,’ Olivia remarked.
‘Charlie shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s the new Charlie speaking. I’m twelve now.’ He began to race away from them.
‘Don’t let your age be a burden, Charlie!’ Olivia called after him.
Charlie turned and gave her a wave. ‘Are you nuts?’ And yet, when he thought about it, his own endowment had certainly not proved very helpful just lately.
Olivia kept her promise. For the rest of the week no alligators appeared outside the dormitories, no dinosaurs roamed the gardens and no medieval warriors galloped through the school, brandishing axes (one of Olivia’s specialities).
If Blessed had seen the shadow again, he was keeping it to himself, and Charlie’s chief concern became the baffling presence of Benjamin’s parents.
On Friday, when Charlie asked Billy if he’d like to stay the weekend, he was surprised by the answer.
‘Mrs Brown has asked me to keep Benjamin company,’ Billy said brightly. ‘You see, he’s lonely without his dog.’
Charlie felt surprised and guilty all at the same time, and yet it wasn’t his fault that Runner Bean had run away. He, Charlie, was Benjamin’s friend. Why couldn’t he keep Benjamin company?
But all he said was, ‘Oh. All right then.’
Back at home, Charlie sat at the kitchen table while Maisie stirred eggs in a saucepan on the stove.
‘It’s been a funny old week,’ said Maisie. ‘No birdsong, no cats on fences, no dogs on leads. I never realised the difference they made. It’s lonely without them, you know. People are saying that the city is dying.’
‘Mm,’ Charlie mumbled. He was wondering if he would see the girl in the sunshine coat again.
‘They’ve had the police on to it; and animal welfare and council workers and private detectives, and Lord knows what else.’ Maisie brought a dish of scrambled eggs to the table and peered into Charlie’s face.
‘What’s up, then, Charlie? Had a bad week?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘Not really.’
‘Benjamin coming over?’
Charlie shugged. ‘Billy Raven’s staying with Ben this weekend.’
‘Well, there’s a turn-up.’ Maisie raised her eyebrows. ‘Didn’t know they were friends.’
‘And Fido’s playing in the band,’ Charlie went on sadly.
‘You do sound sorry for yourself.’ Maisie sat beside Charlie. ‘Come on, eat those lovely eggs. Much better for you than patti- di- fwa-gra, or whatever it is Grandma Bone has such a passion for.’
Charlie managed to raise a smile. He was about to start his meal when Uncle Paton marched in and, flinging open the fridge door, declared, ‘I’m starving. My hamper’s not coming today, they tell me. Hope you’re not too disappointed, Charlie?’
Every Friday Uncle Paton had a large hamper of delicious food delivered from a store in the city. Charlie had been so immersed in his own problems he had quite forgotten to look forward to it. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘Owner dropped dead,’ said Uncle Paton.
Charlie put down his fork. ‘Just like that? Dropped dead? Was he in the store? Were people scared?’
‘Yes, is the answer to all those questions,’ Uncle Paton replied.
‘It was in the papers,’ said Maisie, ‘along with the missing animals. What a week.’
‘What did he die of?’ Charlie found he couldn’t eat.
‘Ah. There’s the mystery.’ Uncle Paton brought a plate of cheese and biscuits to the table. ‘Can I eat your eggs, Charlie?’
Maisie slapped Paton’s hand, which had begun to inch its way towards Charlie’s plate. ‘The boy needs his food,’ she said sharply. ‘Charlie, eat up.’
‘Didn’t the doctors know?’ Charlie put a forkful of egg into his mouth. He was worried about this store owner who had inexplicably dropped dead.
‘His heart stopped beating for no reason,’ said Uncle Paton. ‘Very fit man apparently. Regular jogger. Very sad. Luckily, no family, though. The new owner has already taken the reins – a relative, I’m told. They’ll be back to normal next week and we’ll get our weekend treats.’ This time it was Uncle Paton who peered into Charlie’s face. ‘Feeling your age, Charlie? Twelve isn’t the end of the world, you know.’
‘Twelve,’ Charlie repeated. ‘I was two when my dad disappeared. Ten years ago. Ten. Is that a lucky number, do you think?’
Paton’s jovial expression softened. ‘Ten?’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Well, the Red King had ten children, but it’s a matter of opinion whether this was lucky.’
‘Hardly,’ muttered Maisie.
Someone could be heard climbing the steps up to the front door and, as Charlie turned to the window, he saw Benjamin and Billy get into the Browns’ car. Where were they off to? he wondered. A movie? The bowling alley?
Amy Bone came in looking weary after a week of weighing vegetables. As usual, she made the best of things. ‘Pineapples,’ she said cheerfully, plonking a bag of prickly shapes on the table. ‘It’ll make up for the hamper not coming.’ She pecked Charlie’s cheek. ‘You look glum, Charlie.’
‘Good to see you too, Mum.’ Charlie took his plate to the sink.
‘Are we going to see Benjamin this weekend?’ asked Charlie’s mother. ‘You two must have a lot to catch up on.’
‘No.’ Charlie turned and, with his back to the sink, he gave his three relatives a challenging stare. They looked up expectantly.
‘I won’t be seeing Benjamin because he blames me for Runner Bean’s vanishing. Fidelio is playing in a band and Billy Raven is staying with the Browns. Oh, and by the way, Benjamin’s parents are working at Bloor’s now.’
‘Extraordinary,’ Paton declared.
‘But I won’t be lonely,’ Charlie went on, ‘because I’ll go to Ingledew’s Bookshop. OK?’
‘Of course, it’s OK, Charlie,’ his mother said quietly.
Pronouncing Ingledews to be the best place in the world, Uncle Paton got up, patted Charlie’s shoulder and began to forage in the fridge again.
And that was that.
Except that Charlie never got to the bookshop because, early next morning, a light tap on his window led him into an adventure that would ultimately change his life. And a good many other lives besides.
The tap came at dawn. Charlie woke up. In the gap between the curtains he could see the white moth fluttering against the window pane. At first Charlie thought that the delicate beat of wings on glass had woken him. But then there came another tap, this time sharper and louder.
Charlie went to the window and looked out. The chestnut tree was covered in a crisp white frost. In the grey dawn light, Charlie could make out a figure standing beneath the tree’s icy branches. It was the girl in sunshine yellow. Her hood was thrown back and she had a thick multicoloured scarf wound round her neck and covering her mouth. She waved at Charlie.
He opened the window. ‘Hi! What d’you want?’
The girl pulled her scarf away from her mouth. ‘Charlie Bone, I want to take you somewhere.’
Charlie was suspicious. ‘Why?’
‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘I don’t know you.’
The girl frowned. ‘You will have to trust me, if you want to find the animals.’
‘The animals!’ cried Charlie. ‘You know where they are?’
‘Sssh!’ The girl put a finger to her lips. ‘Are you coming?’
‘You bet.’
Charlie hurriedly threw on his warmest clothes: thick socks, thick sweater, boots and padded jacket. As he passed the kitchen he thought of leaving a note, but what could he say? Better to let his mother believe he had gone to Ingledews, he decided.
The girl was waiting for him at the foot of the steps. Her glossy black hair was tucked into her scarf and her dark eyes held a mischievous twinkle. She held out her hand. ‘Good to meet you, Charlie Bone.’
Charlie took her hand. ‘And who are you?’
‘Naren, the Chinese word for sunflower. They grew beside our door. Come. Let’s go before the city wakes.’
The girl began to run up Filbert Street with Charlie panting behind her, amazed by the speed of her small springy feet in their black boots. When she reached the High Street, Naren waited for Charlie to catch up. And at last he managed to blurt out, ‘Why me? Why did you choose me to find the animals?’
‘Because you are Charlie Bone,’ said Naren, ‘so you are the right person.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘My father knows you. He worries for you.’
‘Your father?’ Charlie’s heart leapt. ‘He’s not my father too, is he?’
‘No. Not yours.’ Naren lowered her gaze. ‘Sorry, Charlie.’ She looked up again. ‘But he is a friend of your father.’
‘Really? Can he tell me where he is?’ Charlie was tense with hope.
‘No. Sorry, sorry. He was a friend of your father. But now your father is lost.’
‘Yes,’ sighed Charlie.
‘My father, too, was lost. But now . . . come, the animals.’ Naren darted off again, but this time she kept pace with Charlie and, as they travelled through the city together, she told him how she had been watching Charlie and his friends, Children of the Red King like herself. She told him how she had longed to speak to them. ‘But my father said I must not approach you,’ she said sadly.
‘Why,’ asked Charlie, ‘if he knows me? And if you are one of us.’
‘He will explain.’ Naren put on a little burst of speed. As she ran, she said, almost in a whisper, ‘He will be angry with me, for he forbade me to enter the city.’
Charlie glanced at her small anxious face, but asked no more questions. Naren was leading him though an unfamiliar part of the city. Rows of bare trees reached into the cold sky, and the houses were partially obscured by tall hedges laced with frost. Naren slowed her pace and carefully picked her way round the icy patches on the pavement. She took a sudden tu
rn to the left and Charlie, following, found himself on a narrow track that wound down and down and down. He could hear a loud rushing sound that grew more intense with every step he took.
Naren reached a set of railings and, looking over her shoulder, she declared, ‘We’re halfway there. But now we must be most careful.’
‘Only halfway?’ Charlie slithered up to her and grasped the railing. Looking down, he saw, perhaps sixty feet below him, a wild torrent of water. White foam gushed and bubbled over the dark rocks that thrust their way through the rapid rush of the river and Charlie was mesmerised by the dreadful pounding of the water. ‘The river,’ he gasped. ‘I didn’t know it was so close.’
Naren gave him a mysterious smile. ‘Now we must cross it.’
‘Must we?’ Charlie said doubtfully.
‘My home is on the other side.’
He looked across the chasm. At the top of the opposite cliff a dense forest stretched as far as he could see. ‘You live over there?’ he asked in disbelief.
‘People can live in forests.’ Naren’s smile widened.
‘Yes, but that one?’ Charlie stared at the distant mass of trees. ‘I heard it was a wilderness.’
‘Maybe it is.’ She tugged his arm and pointed downwards. ‘There’s the bridge. Come on.’
Charlie leant over the railings and saw a thin strip of wrought iron suspended above the river. It looked old and dangerous. ‘That?’ he squeaked.
‘There’s a big bridge further on,’ said Naren, ‘but it’s full of noisy traffic. I like this one, and so do the animals.’
‘Oh, the animals.’ Charlie remembered why he was standing above this turbulent river with a girl he’d only just met. He followed Naren’s perilous route down the cliff face until they reached the iron bridge. Close up, it looked even more treacherous. The rail dripped with icicles and the flooring was grey with frost.
There was a sign hanging on a wire across the entrance to the bridge. It said, DANGER. UNSAFE BRIDGE.
But Charlie wasn’t going to be outdone by a small Chinese girl. The rusty iron rang with the sound of Naren’s boots as she tripped across and Charlie, swallowing hard, clanged after her.
