by Jenny Nimmo
A delighted grin spread across Olivia’s face. “What have I got to do?”
“We need to find the clothes Asa used to wear as a disguise,” said Charlie. “I’m sure they came from the drama department. You know, that old coat and hat, and the weird mustache that was always falling off.”
“I know.” Olivia clicked her glittery shoes together and hopped back and forth. “He used to stick on false eyebrows, too. And there were those funny old boots with holes in them.”
“Yes, yes,” Charlie said excitedly. “Thing is, do you know where they’re kept?”
“Of course I do.” Olivia came to a standstill at last. “Most of the stuff is kept in the basement, under the theater. I’ll get the clothes for you during lunch break. There’ll be more time then.”
“Fantastic, Liv!” cried Charlie.
Fidelio nudged him. “The terms, Charlie, remember? What do you want for helping us, Liv?”
Olivia rolled her eyes at the sky. “Oh, I don’t know. Yes, I do. One of Mrs. Onimous’s chocolate fudge rolls … AND … you’ve got to tell me why you want Asa’s clothes.”
Charlie hesitated. He was always hesitating these days, never sure whom he could trust. Fidelio had no such qualms. He told Olivia about the distant howling and Benjamin’s theory that it was Asa, and that Runner Bean could find him if he got a scent of Asa’s clothes.
“So if I get the clothes, I can come into the wilderness with you, right?” Olivia started hopping again.
“If we can come with you into the costume department,” said Charlie, beginning to feel dizzy as he watched Olivia do a few twirls.
“You’re on. When are you going into the wilderness?” Feeling dizzy herself, Olivia staggered to a halt.
“Saturday. Early. Seven o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.” Olivia couldn’t resist a last-minute twirl as the horn rang out across the grounds. “Hey, look at that,” she said. “Dagbert Endless has made friends with Gabriel Silk.”
Amazing but true. Charlie saw Dagbert and Gabriel heading for the door, side by side, deep in conversation.
“Must be the moon,” Charlie murmured.
“The what?” asked Fidelio.
“Nothing.”
Emma was smiling until Olivia had to go and say, “Look at those two lovebirds.”
The smile left Emma’s face. Tancred Torsson and Tracy Morsell were ambling over the frosty ground as though there were no such thing as a school bell. Tancred’s arm was around Tracy’s neck, his hand resting on her shoulder, and Tracy was gazing up at him as though he were the only boy in the whole world.
“Better buck up, you two!” Fidelio bellowed, undaunted by the fact that they were a year above him.
Tancred and Tracy took no notice, anyway.
“They didn’t hear you,” said Charlie. “Come on, race you to the door.”
“I’ll get there first,” screamed Olivia, rushing away. “Bet you another chocolate fudge.”
The boys raced after her, but Charlie was aware that Emma’s run was very halfhearted. Olivia won her bet, though no one had taken her on.
Drama lessons took place in the school theater. It was here that Mrs. Marlowe, head of drama, put on the very popular productions that she herself wrote, produced, and directed. She was a small, vivacious woman, her face wrinkled from the many expressions that continually passed across it. Her hair, usually tied in a ponytail, was described as salt and pepper, in other words white and gray, and she wore exotic-colored shawls, long velvet skirts, and suede boots dyed to match her outfits.
Luckily, Olivia was Mrs. Marlowe’s favorite, so when the teacher caught her and her friends about to creep down into the costume department at lunchtime, she wasn’t as angry as she might have been.
The heavy velvet curtains had been pulled across the stage, and when Olivia opened the trapdoor at the back, she had no idea that Mrs. Marlowe was sitting alone in the dark auditorium, dreaming up her next production.
“Hello! Who’s there?” Mrs. Marlowe sprang up the steps at the side of the stage and peeped through the curtains. “Olivia! What are you doing? And you two boys — you aren’t in drama.”
“So sorry, Mrs. Marlowe. We do apologize.” Fidelio could really lay on the charm when he wanted to. “We had no idea you were there or we’d have asked. The thing is, I’ve written this musical. We’re putting it on in the summer, in Olivia’s backyard — she’s starring, of course — but I wondered if we could borrow some costumes, and Olivia was going to ask, but she couldn’t find you.”
Charlie and Olivia stared at Fidelio in admiration. How had he managed to come up with such a good excuse so fast?
Mrs. Marlowe was certainly impressed. “A musical! How marvelous!” she purred. “I hope you’ll invite me. Of course you may borrow some costumes, but let me know what they are, so that I can check them out.” She withdrew her head and then, popping it briefly through the curtains again, added, “Be careful, kids. One of the bulbs has gone out. It’s a bit dark down there.”
“We’ll be OK, Mrs. Marlowe,” Olivia said cheerfully. She placed one foot on the wooden steps and descended backward into the room below. Charlie followed. Fidelio came last.
Olivia flicked a switch, and a light hanging almost above her head illuminated a part of the room nearest to the steps. Tall pine cupboards stood in rows against one wall, while a procession of leather trunks and large wicker baskets ran down the center of the room. On the other side, a line of ancient stone pillars created shadowy recesses where nothing at all could be seen.
“That’s where the other light should be.” Olivia pointed to the ceiling at the other end of the room.
“I hope Asa’s stuff’s not down there.” Charlie gave a small shiver.
“No, it’ll be at this end,” Olivia said confidently. “And it won’t take long. Mrs. Marlowe’s very efficient. See, everything’s labeled. All the clothes from 1900 to 2000 are at this end. They get progressively older until you reach bearskins and loincloths …”
“In the dark,” said Charlie.
“There’s so much,” Fidelio exclaimed. “I think I really will write a musical.”
Olivia picked out three large trunks and suggested they take one each. A label marked “1900–2000. Coats. Male.” hung from the handles of all three trunks.
Charlie was the first to swing back a lid. He leaped away with a screech as a large beetle scuttled over the rim.
“You wait till the bats come out.” Olivia laughed.
Charlie flung a look at the distant shadows, and then at the utter blackness behind the line of pillars. Was it his imagination, or did something glint in there? A bat’s eye, or a beast’s shiny fang? He turned his attention to the clothes in the trunk.
It was Fidelio who found Asa’s coat. “This is it. I’d know it anywhere.” He pulled out the long, tattered garment that Asa used to wear on weekends when he was spying for Manfred.
“Now the hat!” said Olivia, opening a cupboard labeled “1900–2000. Headgear. Male.” A wall of hats was revealed inside the cupboard.
Charlie came to help. But Asa’s cap was not among the top hats, bowlers, fedoras, panamas, and various military headgear that hung before them.
Olivia tried a second cupboard. “Ah, this is more likely,” she announced, scanning the rows of stained, moth-eaten hats.
Charlie pounced on an old tweed cap with several holes in it. “Asa’s!” he declared. “I know it is.”
They decided not to search for the boots. After all, one old black boot looked pretty much like another. Charlie lifted the lid of a box marked “Beards, et cetera.” but there were too many to choose from. And then he saw the label on one of the cupboards. “Masks.” He just had to take a look. Inside the cupboard hung masks of every description: painted, glittering, black, white, animal faces, skulls, clowns, ghosts, vampires, and monsters.
“Oh wow!” cried Fidelio, taking out a scarlet mask with black sequined eyebrows and a yellow mouth. “This
is all I need. A masked musical. I really will write one.”
The others helped him to choose ten more masks: three animals; two monsters; a sad, white face; a warty man; two golden faces; and a black mask with gold-rimmed eyes. It reminded Charlie of the dark, hunched figure he’d seen in the hall. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
The horn sounded just as they were climbing up to the stage. Charlie rolled the coat and hat into a tight bundle and tucked it under his arm. He took a last look at the shadowy steps, and then Olivia shut the trapdoor.
“Can you lock it?” asked Charlie.
“No. It’s never locked. Someone could be trapped down there.” She giggled.
In the room beneath them, someone limped from behind a pillar. A large, wicker basket creaked as it took the weight of the hunched, black-cloaked figure. Huddled in the gloom, it cursed Charlie Bone, over and over and over again.
On Friday afternoon, Billy Raven changed his mind. He told Charlie that he wouldn’t be spending the weekend with him after all.
“I thought you wanted to help us find Asa,” said Charlie.
Billy slowly untied the laces on his sneakers. They were sitting in the blue coatroom. Charlie was pulling off his cleats.
“It’s the wilderness,” Billy said at last. “All those animals; not that I don’t like animals, I do, but their voices — there are so many in a place like the wilderness, all speaking different languages, boom, boom, chatter, chatter, into my head. I’d rather stay here with Cook.”
Children passed back and forth in front of them, skipping over boots, scrambling under benches, finding shorts, losing shirts. Charlie leaned closer to Billy. “You’ve left Rembrandt at my place, Maisie’ll be in a tizzy.”
Billy pulled off his sneakers and sat staring at them. “Perhaps Maisie can bring him here and leave him with Cook.”
Charlie shrugged. “I’ll ask her. Well, I’m off to pack my bag now. See you on Monday.”
“Good luck,” said Billy.
Charlie had managed to hide Asa’s clothes at the bottom of his bag. When he got home, he pulled out the old coat and hat and stuffed them in his wardrobe. Benjamin was already ringing the doorbell when Charlie went down for tea.
“What are you two up to?” asked Maisie when the boys walked into the kitchen. “You’ve got plots and adventures written all over your faces.”
“Have we?” Benjamin anxiously felt his chin.
“You’re telling me, and so’s Runner Bean.” Maisie began to search the fridge for a meaty bone she’d been saving.
Charlie wasn’t sure how much he should tell Maisie. He didn’t want to worry her. “We’ve got a few things planned for tomorrow,” he said casually. “A sort of hide-and-seek with Runner Bean.”
“So that’s it.” Maisie gave Runner his bone.
They sat down to their tea. Uncle Paton often didn’t appear for meals, so Charlie wasn’t too concerned. He would talk to his uncle later, he thought, in private. He wanted his advice on the project they were about to undertake.
“By the way, your uncle’s gone,” said Maisie, handing out her freshly baked scones.
“Gone!” uttered Charlie. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Don’t look so stricken, Charlie. He’s off on his usual visit to the sea.”
“To see great-grandpa?” asked Charlie.
“That’s the one,” said Maisie. “Not a word to Grandma Bone. We don’t want her going down there spoiling everything.”
“No,” Charlie murmured. He glanced at Benjamin, who was obviously having the same thought. They hadn’t expected Uncle Paton to join them in the wilderness, but it would have been comforting to know that he was aware of the venture, and would be ready to help if things went wrong.
Benjamin was already having misgivings. He wondered if he should have told his parents where he was going. Charlie gave him a reassuring grin. “Fidelio will be with us,” he said, “and Olivia.”
“Oh?” Benjamin didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry. Olivia was a bit too showy for his liking.
“Sounds to me like it’s more than a game of hide-and-seek,” Maisie said suspiciously. “I hope you’re not going to do anything silly, boys.”
“Not in the least bit silly, Mrs. Jones,” Benjamin answered gravely.
A second later the phone rang. Even before Maisie answered it, Charlie had a nasty feeling that a second complication was about to arise.
“It’s for you, Charlie,” Maisie called.
Charlie’s feet dragged a little as he went into the hall.
“Cheer up, it’s your friend Fidelio.” Maisie handed Charlie the receiver.
“Hi, Charlie, bad news,” said Fidelio’s cheerful voice.
Charlie sighed. “What now? Don’t tell me you can’t come tomorrow.”
“Sorry, Charlie, I totally forgot. Promised Dad I’d go to this audition. It’s for a summer tour. Really, really important. It could make a difference to my future career….”
“Sure, sure,” Charlie said glumly. “OK, genius, we’ll have to go without you.”
“How about next weekend?” Fidelio suggested.
“Too late,” said Charlie. “Asa might be injured. We have to find him tomorrow.”
“Could be dead.”
“NO,” said Charlie. “I won’t believe that he’s dead. Good luck with the audition, Fido!” He put down the receiver.
Maisie gave Charlie a wary look as he returned to the table. “What’s all this about death?” she said.
Charlie decided to tell her a small part of the truth. “We were talking about the Wilderness Wolf. Fidelio thought it might be dead. We heard shots in the night.”
“That was the hunt,” said Maisie, “but nothing was killed as far as I know. Though I haven’t heard the howling for a couple of nights.”
Charlie and Benjamin exchanged glances.
On Saturday morning Charlie woke up to hear a light pattering on his windowpane. It was still dark and at first he thought that snow was beating against the window. When he looked out, he saw Benjamin and Runner Bean standing beneath the street light.
Charlie pulled on his warmest clothes. Before he left the room, he pushed the black kettle farther under his bed. It was hot to the touch, not hot enough to burn him, but certainly hotter than the temperature in the room. If this is a warning, thought Charlie, there’s nothing I can do about it now. He scanned the room for a glimpse of the white moth — his transformed wand — the guardian of his room. He saw it, at last, on the curtain rod, its silver-tipped wings upright like a single sail.
“Wish me luck,” said Charlie.
The moth spread her wings and flew down to his shoulder.
“You’re welcome to join us,” said Charlie. “Very welcome.”
By the time he opened the door, Benjamin had been joined by Olivia. She wore a navy coat, thick leather boots, and a striped scarf wound several times around her neck.
“Ready for anything!” sang Olivia as she bounced into the hall.
“SHHHH,” hissed Charlie and Benjamin.
Charlie cast an anxious glance at the stairs. He expected both his grandmothers to come rushing out of their rooms, but luckily they must have been fast asleep.
Olivia held up a red canvas backpack. “Got food for a week in here,” she whispered. “Raided the fridge before I left home. Told Mom I was spending the day with Emma. Mom’s working anyway. She won’t be back till Sunday night.”
Charlie decided to take some food of his own. Olivia often ate exotic and unpronounceable food. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, he returned with a bag of cookies and some cold cooked sausages. He tucked them into his own backpack, on top of Asa’s coat and hat. “Let’s go,” he said.
When they left the house, a thin line of pale green light was beginning to show above the distant hills, but as they walked down toward the river, the light faded and they were plunged into a dark, grayish gloom.
There were two bridges over the river, one an ancien
t narrow iron bridge that the council had declared unsafe for use; the other, built over large stone arches, was wide and strong and completely safe. Charlie had used the iron bridge to visit Naren, but today he chose the stone bridge. Nothing must jeopardize their rescue mission.
Runner Bean seemed to know that something was expected of him. He ran ahead in total silence, not a bark to be had from him. Only his furiously wagging tail betrayed his excitement.
When they had crossed the bridge, the three children walked down the path where, only a few days ago, the hunters had marched into the wilderness. Olivia pulled a large flashlight from her backpack. Its strong beam helped them to navigate the dense undergrowth that bordered the forest. Once they were through and into the trees, the brambles and coarse grass receded. They even found a narrow path.
It was time to put Runner Bean to work. Charlie took the bundled coat and hat from his backpack and held them out to the dog. Runner Bean sniffed them. He growled and backed away. Animals had always been afraid of Asa; a creature that was human by day and a beast at dusk worried and confused them. Instinct told them to avoid such things.
“Come on, Runner,” coaxed Benjamin. “Please. We need you to do this.” He took the clothes from Charlie, laid them on the ground, and patted them. “Runner, come on.”
Runner Bean approached the bundle cautiously. He sniffed the clothes, first the coat, then the hat. He growled again, and then, suddenly, he was away, running along the narrow path, leaping off it now and then to sniff the grass, and running on again.
“He’s got the scent!” cried Benjamin, chasing after his dog.
“He’s got something, that’s for sure,” Olivia agreed, following Benjamin.
Charlie picked up the clothes and ran after them. He was surprised how fast Olivia could move, and Benjamin too, for that matter. The beam from Olivia’s flashlight was shooting all over the place, anywhere but on the ground, and Charlie found himself straying off the path, bumping into trees, and stumbling over creepers.
There was a cry up ahead, and then another. Too late, Charlie flew into Olivia, who had bumped into Benjamin.
