Charlie Bone and the Hidden King

by Jenny Nimmo

  From the three long tables in the dining hall, 300 children watched the headmaster in his black cape, his head down and hands clasped behind his back. He was a large man with a neat gray mustache and iron-gray hair, cut very short. Today his face was a pinky red. When he came to rest, at last, he stared at the children at the drama table, directly in front of him.

  "There cannot be one of you who is not aware of the catastrophe that has struck this city. Eh?" He put a hand behind his ear. "What did you say?"

  "NO, sir," shouted the children in purple capes.

  Dr. Bloor walked to his right until he reached the center of the platform. "And what do you say?" he demanded of the children at the art table.

  "NO, sir," shouted the children in green.

  Dr. Bloor took several more paces to his right. He was now standing in front of Charlie who had been the last in and was forced to sit in one of the unlucky seats just below the staff table. Fidelio was sitting opposite him.

  "And what about you?" Dr. Bloor's pinkish complexion darkened. "Have you heard about the city's problems?" He stared hard at Charlie.

  Charlie thought the question was personal and asked, "Do you mean the animals, sir?"

  "Of course I mean the animals." Dr. Bloor gave a little jump of fury. "Stupid boy."

  "In that case, yes, sir," said Charlie.

  The other children at the music table repeated, "Yes, sir."

  The headmaster then said something very surprising. "It is, of course, a catastrophe when beloved pets disappear. It is especially distressing for the elderly whose pets have become their only companions. However" - Dr. Bloor walked across the platform - "It happens, sometimes, and it can't be helped."

  Charlie was baffled. Did the headmaster know what had caused the animals to run away? He certainly didn't seem surprised by their disappearance.

  Dr. Bloor suddenly swung around and walked back to stand in front of Charlie. "But it is unforgivable when someone finds a pet, or two, belonging to their friends, and will tell no one where he found them." The headmaster stuck his chin out and stared at Charlie. "Where did you find the pets, Charlie Bone? The city council wants to know. Where did you find the dog, the duck, the parrot, the rabbits and gerbils, and the snake that belongs to my grandfather?"

  "I just found them, sir . . . wandering around," said Charlie.

  "STAND UP, BOY!"

  Charlie stood up.

  "I'll repeat my question," said Dr. Bloor. "Where did you find the animals?"

  Charlie gritted his teeth. "I could bring back the snake, sir, if you like."

  "We don't want the snake. It's a feeble thing now, by all accounts." Dr. Bloor stamped his foot. "AND DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!"

  "No, sir." Charlie looked away from the headmaster's angry red face. "Perhaps the animals will just wander back, sir, like the ones I found."

  "Well, if they don't, Charlie Bone" - Dr. Bloor leaned closer to him - "if they don't, there's a room in the attic where a boy can be kept until he tells the truth."

  "Yes, sir," said Charlie in a choked voice.

  "DISMISSED!" roared the headmaster.

  Three hundred children leaped to their feet and began to stack the dirty plates.

  "What are you going to do?" Fidelio asked Charlie as they made their way out of the dining hall.

  "Don't know," said Charlie. "I'll have to think about it while I'm doing homework. That is, if I can think. It's going to be nasty in there tonight."

  But it wasn't as bad as Charlie had feared. Perhaps Joshua and Dorcas had enjoyed the headmaster's scolding so much, they felt that Charlie had got all he deserved, for the time being.

  Charlie appeared to be working hard on his history project, but his thoughts were far away. How could he get all the animals back? And how could Maisie be unfrozen? When he thought of Maisie lying so still in the bathtub, it made him shiver. And then the horrible feeling that he'd lost something precious gradually overwhelmed him.

  After homework, Charlie trudged back to the dormitory in a daze. Someone jabbed his elbow and he realized that Gabriel was walking beside him.

  "Thanks for getting my gerbils, Charlie," Gabriel said quietly. "I won't ask where you found them."

  "That's OK." Charlie felt better when he saw Gabriel's cheerful face. "I left them in the Pets' Cafe. You can collect them over the weekend."

  "Great. Do you think you'll be able to get the others back?"

  Charlie gave a huge sigh. "How can I, Gabe? Think about it. Almost every bird in the city, every rat, mouse, frog, toad, dog, cat - you name it, has run away. How can I get them all back without . . . without . . ."

  "Telling where they are," said Gabriel. "I see your problem."

  It didn't bother Charlie that half the boys in his dormitory wouldn't speak to him. He had too much on his mind. Long after lights-out, he lay awake, and when he was quite sure that all the others were asleep he tiptoed across to the window and opened the curtains, just wide enough to let a slice of moonlight creep into the room. The light fell in a thin band right behind his bed.

  Charlie climbed under the covers and waited. Would Naren find him? Would she send a message? Because he badly wanted to talk to her. He had almost given up hope when tiny black shadows began to tumble over the sill and into the room. Charlie watched them crawl across his bed and up onto the wall. At last they came to rest and he could read the words:

  How are you, Charlie?

  "I'm in trouble," Charlie whispered. "I've got to get the animals back, Naren, and soon, or they'll lock me up."

  The little shadows quickly rearranged themselves, and Charlie was astonished to read:

  They're on their way. Tomorrow every lost creature will be back in the city.

  "How?" asked Charlie.

  Three bright cats arrivedMagical cats. You should have seen them, Charlie. They sat in our yard and called in such loud, beautiful voices, all the animals gathered around and followed them out of our gate. What a sight: birds in the air, creatures running, scuffling leaping . . .

  A sudden shriek ripped through the dormitory. Charlie whispered, "Good-bye," and the words began to fade.

  "What was that?" cried Rupe Small. "It was horrible."

  By now the whole room was awake.

  "The wall was covered in - in stuff - animals or something," said Rupe. "Charlie Bone was talking to it."

  "Urgh!" "What?" "Yuck!" "Trust Charlie Bone!" came from one side of the dormitory.

  "Shut up and go to sleep," said Fidelio. "You were having a nightmare, Rupe."

  "I WAS NOT!"

  The door opened and Lucretia Yewbeam's tall shadow fell across the room. She turned on the light. "What's going on?" she demanded.

  Rupe pointed at Charlie. "There was stuff all over the wall and he was talking to it."

  The matron's eyes narrowed. "What was it, this stuff?"

  "Nothing, Matron," said Charlie.

  "I saw it," said Bragger Braine. "It disappeared when Charlie whispered to it."

  "It was just flies," said Charlie. "I don't know where they came from."

  "Don't lie," said his great-aunt. "There are no flies. It's winter. They're all dead."

  To this, Charlie could find no answer.

  The matron walked over to Charlie's bed and stared down at him. "It's always you, isn't it? Keeping other people awake, disturbing their sleep. I don't know what you were doing and I don't really care. It's detention for you, Charlie Bone. You'll spend half your weekend in school."

  "But I can't," Charlie protested. "My grandmother's ill."

  "Your grandmother is perfectly well," said the matron, walking away.

  "No, not your sister. Not Grandma Bone. I mean Maisie, my other grandmother."

  "Oh, her," the matron said carelessly. "What's the matter with her?"

  "She er . . . c-caught a cold," stuttered Charlie.

  "A cold? Hardly a matter of life and death. Go to sleep." The matron turned out the light and closed the door.

  As Ch
arlie slid under the covers he heard something that made his heart leap. An owl hooted, and then another.

  They are coming back, he thought, and at last he drifted off to sleep.

  THE HUNDRED HEDS

  If Charlie had looked out his window, he would have seen an astonishing sight. The sky was crowded with birds. Their voices were silent but the air hummed with the sound of beating wings. Gradually, small groups began to swing away from the vast flock. They flew down and settled on walls, trees, fences, and buildings. Once there, they tucked their heads under their wings and fell asleep. Soon, only the owls were left awake.

  Down in the city, light sleepers found themselves drawn to their windows. They were rewarded by a sight they would never forget. Lines of solemn, silent creatures moved through the city. They were led by three cats whose coats were so bright that the air around them shone with fiery colors. As they made their way along the streets, the animals began to find their homes. They bounded through windows, they walked into gardens, kennels, and stables, and the marveling watchers heaved a sigh of relief. The city wasn't dying after all.

  The news traveled fast. By first break even the children in Bloor's Academy had heard about the great return. Laughter was heard in the cafeteria and classrooms; smiles were seen on the faces of children who had said they would never smile again. Charlie was relieved, even though some of his classmates still looked at him with suspicion.

  Just when one problem had been solved, Charlie was presented with another. Detention. He was desperate to find out if Maisie had melted, and he also felt he should be at home to watch over his mother.

  At lunchtime, Charlie found Billy in the cafeteria eating one of Cook's new specialties. Potato hedgehogs.

  "They're not really hedgehogs," Billy said gravely. "It's just that they've got these nice crispy tips."

  While Cook was serving Charlie, she said quietly, "I hear the animals are back."

  Charlie nodded. "The Flames brought them. But I've got detention this weekend, so . . ."

  "What?" Cook lowered her ladle. "You can't have." She looked very surprised.

  Charlie was about to ask why, when behind him, Gabriel said, "I'm dying of hunger. Move on, Charlie."

  Charlie took his plate of hedgehogs to Billy's table. In a few minutes, Fidelio and Gabriel had joined them.

  "Do you know what's happening this weekend?" Billy asked the others.

  "I've got detention," said Charlie.

  "No, I didn't mean that." Billy squared his shoulders and said importantly, "It's the Hundred Heads' dinner on Friday and the Grand Ball on Saturday. I heard Dr. Bloor reminding Matron about it. He was angry because she'd given you detention, Charlie, and he didn't want any children in the building. But Matron said it was against her principles to take back detentions. And Dr. Bloor walked off in a huff. He said she'd have to keep you out of the way. I expect he meant me too because I'll be here if you are, won't I, Charlie?"

  Charlie felt quite out of breath when Billy finally came to a halt.

  Gabriel said, "Billy, I've never heard you say so much all at one time."

  Fidelio asked, "So what are the Hundred Heads' dinner and the Grand Ball?"

  "Well," began Billy, "I found out a bit more from Manfred."

  "From Manfred)." said the others in shocked voices.

  "He likes to feel important, so I thought he'd be very happy to tell me," said Billy, "and he was. He said every ten years there's a reunion. Head teachers from a hundred other academies come here to talk about their pupils and things."

  "What other academies?" said Charlie.

  "Where all the other endowed children go," said Billy.

  "There are others?" said Charlie in surprise. "Of course, there would be," Gabriel said thoughtfully. "When you think about it, there must be hundreds of children like us, all over the world. I mean, the Red King had ten children and if they all had children, nine hundred years ago . . ."

  "Wow!" Charlie's mouth dropped open. "Am I stupid, or what! They couldn't all come to Bloor's, could they? Not if they lived in China or Africa."

  "Or Scotland, or Ireland," said Fidelio.

  "Phew! I just never thought." Charlie shook his head in wonderment.

  They dug into their hedgehogs, each one of them thinking about those other academies, other children, and other head teachers.

  "I'm going to get into that Hundred Heads' dinner somehow," said Charlie. "There's a lot I want to find out."

  "Me, too," said Billy.

  Charlie gulped down his last lump of hedgehog and smiled. The weekend wasn't going to be so bad, after all. Perhaps his mother had found the vervain, and when he got home Maisie would be her old self again.

  The pupils at Bloor's Academy were left in no doubt that a momentous event was about to take place at their school. By the time Friday arrived, the ceiling of the great hall glittered with a thousand lanterns. Swords, crossbows, scimitars, spears, and many other impressive-looking weapons had been retrieved from chests and closets. Burnished to an awesome brightness they hung on the oak-paneled walls, where they drew gasps of terror and admiration. An army of cleaners had polished the flagstones to a slippery shine, and the children were commanded to walk only at the extreme edges.

  In the dining hall, the lighting was more restrained, although it was noticed that several iron braziers had been fixed to the walls. Would they hold flaming torches? And would the important visitors be served by firelight?

  Even the friendliest dinner ladies were becoming short-tempered. The extra workload was wearing them out. Throughout the day they were to be seen hurrying down hallways with trays of silverware that hadn't seen the light of day for years.

  Porcelain dinner plates, crystal glasses, and golden dishes were unearthed from the cellars and carried up to the kitchens for a sparkling wash.

  Strings of white lights had been strung along the dark hallway that led from the great hall to the cafeteria and dining hall, and Charlie noticed that some of the portraits had been decorated with gold ribbon. Not all of them, however. Perhaps only those who were directly related to the honored visitors.

  Charlie and Billy sat in the dormitory watching the others pack their bags. Charlie felt strangely elated. He tried to look suitably glum when Bragger Braine and Rupe Small walked to the door, with their bags slung nonchalantly over their shoulders, but he couldn't prevent a grin from curling one corner of his mouth.

  "What are you smirking at?" asked Bragger.

  "Rupe's bag is so heavy he looks as if he's sinking. How many cans of Sweet Petal have you got in there, Rupe?"

  Some of the others giggled and Rupe cried, "Shut up!"

  "Have a bad weekend, Charlie Bone," said Bragger, swaggering out with Rupe in tow.

  Gabriel and Fidelio were the last to leave. They wished Charlie good luck and promised to meet up on Sunday.

  "I'll bring extra gerbils," said Gabriel, giving a final wave.

  Not long after the last pupil had left the school, Lucretia Yewbeam looked into the dormitory and told Charlie and Billy they would be having an early supper. "I want you both back in here by six o'clock," she said. "Lights-out at seven, and neither of you are to leave this room until breakfast time."

  "Lights-out at seven?" Charlie complained. "Why?"

  "Why do you think? It's a punishment. Now clean yourselves up. Supper's in the cafeteria at half past five." With-a grim smile the matron swept out.

  When the boys went looking for Cook, they found her in the kitchen, in quite a state. Frantic assistants kept moving around her while she rushed from the giant ovens to the cold room and back again, mumbling, "A hundred this, a hundred that, turtle soup, pigeon pies, beef this and that. No meat for him, no cream for her . . . Without looking up, she went on, "Hello, boys, it's only baked beans and toast for you, I'm afraid. Here it comes."

  Cook shared a saucepan of beans between two plates of buttered toast, and put them on a tray with two bowls of custard.

  "What time does the di
nner begin?" Charlie asked.

  "Half past seven and I'll never be ready."

  A cluster of frantic assistants ran up to Cook and she waved the boys away. "Sorry, my loves, got to keep going."

  Charlie carried the tray into the cafeteria and put it on a table farthest from the counter. The noise from the kitchen was so loud the boys couldn't even hear their own thoughts. They wolfed down their suppers and left the cafeteria as soon as they could.

  Back in the dormitory they changed into their pajamas and crept along to the landing above the hall. Lying flat on their stomachs, they peered between the railings down into the great hall. It was a place they barely recognized.

  Brilliantly illuminated by the thousand lanterns, a sea of people moved slowly around the hall. Most of the visitors wore tuxedos and gowns, but there were also men in turbans, some in gold-encrusted capes and others in rainbow-colored blazers. There were a few white robes to be seen, and one man was dressed from head to toe in purple silk, with a jeweled scabbard attached to his belt. Women in saris chatted to others in kimonos, and people in bright national costumes leaned forward eagerly, trying to understand one another's languages.

  Mr. Ezekiel, in a black velvet coat and a red skullcap, wheeled himself through the throng, while everlasting sparklers hissed and crackled from the back of his chair, causing some of the guests to leap away, sucking their burned arms and knuckles.

  Waitresses in short black dresses and white caps and aprons threaded their way through the crowd, bearing large dishes of bite-size snacks, while waiters in red-and-gold vests carefully balanced trays of bubbling champagne.

  At the bottom of the staircase, a harpist in a flowing pink gown ran her fingers across the strings of a giant gold harp. The gentle sound rose and fell at intervals between the buzz of conversation.

  Billy put his head close to Charlie's and whispered, "Only the wicked ones stayed here."

  "What are you talking about?" Charlie whispered back.

  "The Red King. His good children left their father's castle forever. Some even left the country. So the people down there, well, maybe the ones from abroad, are descended from the good children."

  It hadn't occurred to Charlie, but now he watched the faces below more intently. Was it his imagination, or did most of the people in tuxedos and gowns wear guarded expressions? And surely they looked more grim and determined than the others. The majority of the foreigners looked friendly and relaxed. They smiled more readily and even laughed.