Charlie Bone and the Beast

by Jenny Nimmo

  Uncle Paton looked down at the papers on his desk. His face was very solemn. “I feel that I should not be allowing you to do this, Charlie. It’s extremely dangerous. And if any harm should come to you — I can’t imagine how I would explain it to your parents. But …”

  “But I’d do it anyway,” said Charlie.

  “You would do it anyway.” Paton sighed. “So all I can do is to make it easier for you. I wish I could be there, but I am too conspicuous, and my endowment …” He gave a wry smile.

  “Streetlight explosions would really give the game away,” Charlie said cheerfully.

  Paton nodded sadly. “Remember, Bartholomew will be waiting at the north side of the bridge. Asa’s mother will be there — and someone else.”

  “Someone else?”

  “Mmmm. A slight complication, but it can’t be helped. Venetia’s husband, Mr. Shellhorn, contacted me last night. He got my name from Mr. Onimous.” Paton scratched his chin while Charlie listened with growing interest.

  “Mr. Shellhorn has decided to escape — that was his word for it — from your great-aunt. It’s for his daughter’s sake. She isn’t safe in that awful house. So, together, they will make their way to the Pets’ Café, and Bartholomew will pick them up.”

  “What about Eric?” asked Charlie.

  Paton shook his head. “Mr. Shellhorn has reluctantly decided to leave the boy. He’s changed completely. He adores Venetia, it seems, and it would be too risky to let him in on the secret.”

  “The troll!” Charlie exclaimed. “They’ll never get past it.”

  “The troll, dear boy, has gone.”

  Charlie gaped. “How? It must weigh a ton.”

  “Your friend the blacksmith is a mighty strong lady,” said Uncle Paton. “The troll is under lock and key, and if Eric doesn’t know where it is, he can’t get it moving.”

  “Phew. Where will Bartholomew take them all?”

  “To a far, far place where they’ll all be safe. And, as you know, Bartholomew Bloor’s the best man in the world for that sort of mission.”

  There was a sudden loud rap on the door. “Are you in there, Charlie?” shouted Grandma Bone, rattling the door handle. “You’ll miss your bus.”

  Uncle Paton rolled his eyes and gave Charlie a little push toward the door. “By the way,” he whispered, “you’ll need Olivia.”

  “Why?” mouthed Charlie.

  “Distractions.” Uncle Paton’s voice was so soft Charlie could hardly hear him. “Illusions. White vans.”

  Grandma Bone yelled, “Why should I care if you miss the bus, you stupid boy?”

  Charlie grinned, unlocked his uncle’s door, and leaped onto the landing. “Almost ready,” he called.

  Charlie didn’t notice the change in Billy until first break. Billy was sitting in the coatroom, reading a book, when Charlie found him.

  “I want to talk to you about tonight,” said Charlie.

  “Why?” asked Billy.

  “We’re rescuing Asa, and it’s important to get the timing right.”

  “Is it?”

  “Billy, are you OK?” Charlie bent over his small friend.

  “I don’t know,” said Billy. “I had a funny kind of weekend. I was playing hide-and-seek with Blessed and then … and then …”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know. When I woke up in the dormitory this morning, I couldn’t remember anything that had happened.”

  Charlie sat beside his friend. “But you feel OK?”

  “I suppose,” said Billy. “Except I can’t understand Blessed anymore, and he can’t understand me.” Billy closed his book. “Charlie, do you think it’s going to be like that with all the animals? Have I lost my endowment?”

  “You can’t have, Billy. I need you to talk to Asa.”

  “Oh.” Billy looked doubtful. “I’ll try. Will you wake me up when it’s time?”

  “Of course.”

  The blue coatroom began to fill up with children, and Charlie had to end the conversation. He headed out to the grounds, where he found Tancred and Lysander pacing around the field together. They stopped when they saw Charlie, and in a low voice, Lysander asked, “Have you decided on tonight, Charlie?”

  “It has to be tonight,” Charlie told them, “because someone’s going to be waiting for Asa.”

  “Good,” said Tancred. “The sooner, the better. But I think we should wait until well after midnight. I’ve seen the Bloors’ lights burning at one o’clock in the morning.”

  “Two o’clock, then,” said Charlie.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to wake up?” asked Lysander.

  “Dad gave me a new watch before he went away. It’s got an alarm.” Charlie proudly displayed the watch with its black face and sparkling circle of numbers.

  “Wow!” Tancred said obligingly. “That’s impressive. I hope it doesn’t wake the whole dorm.”

  “Are you still sure you want to do this, Charlie?” Lysander suddenly looked very serious. “I wouldn’t blame you if you called the whole thing off. It won’t be easy, down there in the dark.”

  “And Asa might bite you to death,” Tancred said lightly.

  Charlie grinned, though at that moment, it was the last thing he felt like doing. “Where will you two be?”

  “I’ll be watching Manfred, and he’ll be dealing with Dagbert,” Tancred said, and Charlie nodded at his blond friend.

  “So I’ve got nothing to worry about, then. See you tonight.” As Charlie walked back to the school he saw a knot of children surrounding Joshua and the twins. Joshua had a black eye, one twin had a blue nose, and the other’s forehead was wrapped in a wide bandage. Joshua pointed at Charlie, and the group of children turned and stared at him.

  Charlie gave a cheery wave.

  At lunch Charlie had butterflies in his stomach; he could hardly eat a thing. Throughout the rest of the day his heart beat extra fast, his hands felt cold and clammy, and during the last class, French, he found, much to his annoyance, that his knees were knocking. “I am NOT nervous,” he said to himself.

  Fidelio leaned toward him. “What was that, Charlie?”

  “Silence!” commanded Madame Tessier.

  “Tell you later,” Charlie whispered.

  “SILENCE!” screamed Madame Tessier.

  Charlie managed to get Fidelio alone in the dormitory before supper. He told his friend everything.

  Fidelio frowned in concern. “Shall I come with you, Charlie? I mean, just you and Billy, alone in that awful place, with a wild beast?”

  “Asa’s not really wild,” said Charlie.

  “How do you know? He’s been a beast for at least two weeks now. He could be utterly savage. Why don’t you give it up, Charlie?”

  “Asa risked everything for me,” said Charlie gravely. “I can’t just let him … rot.”

  Fidelio shrugged. “OK. I’ll keep an eye on Dagbert if he wakes up.”

  “Oh, he’ll wake up all right,” said Charlie.

  There was still one person Charlie had to contact. Olivia. Fidelio insisted on going up to the girls’ dormitory with Charlie. “You could run into Matron up there,” he said.

  They did. She was standing right outside Olivia’s door with a pile of sheets in her arms. “You’re out of bounds,” she snarled.

  “I’ve just come to borrow a book,” said Charlie.

  “You can go without it.” Lucretia Yewbeam’s small black eyes locked onto Charlie’s. “I’ve been hearing some very unpleasant things about you, Charlie Bone. We’re all disgusted with the way you’ve turned out. Still, with a father like yours, who could expect …?”

  “What do you mean?” cried Charlie, clenching his fists. “My father’s worth a hundred Yewbeams.”

  “He is a Yewbeam, stupid boy. At least a poor excuse for one.” She smiled spitefully as Charlie raised his fist.

  “Charlie!” Fidelio grabbed his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They were about to turn away w
hen the door behind the matron opened and Olivia looked out. “Hi, Charlie. I’ve got that book you wanted,” she said, waving a small book of French verbs.

  Lucretia Yewbeam stepped away from the door. “Eavesdropping is an appalling habit.” She spat. “Get downstairs, all of you.”

  They were only too happy to obey.

  In the deserted art room, Charlie outlined his plan to Olivia.

  “I’d rather come with you.” Her eyes had a dangerous sparkle. “I want to know what it’s like down there. There could be treasure … anything. Are you going to wear pajamas, Charlie? You might need rubber boots, I mean, if the passage leads to the river …”

  “Liv, shut up and listen,” said Fidelio. “You’ve got a job to do.”

  “Well, what?” said Olivia angrily. She folded her arms and waited.

  “Illusions, Liv. That’s all I want from you. I don’t need you underground.”

  “Oh.” Olivia looked disappointed. “Where do you want these illusions?”

  “All over the city. I know Manfred’s just waiting for something to happen. He knows I’m going to try and rescue Asa, but he doesn’t know when. He doesn’t even know if I know where Asa is.” Charlie glanced at Olivia’s impatient face. An unwelcome thought had popped into his head. “I suppose I don’t know for sure. I’m just guessing because of what Mr. Onimous said.”

  “And your gut,” Fidelio said encouragingly. “Your gut tells you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, my gut.” But Charlie’s gut also told him that he didn’t actually know if Asa was somewhere deep beneath the academy, somewhere in the dreadful, inky darkness beyond the costume department. It was all rather hit or miss.

  “So what sort of illusions do you want?”

  Olivia’s sharp voice brought Charlie back to earth. “Vans, Liv. Smallish white vans, a bit battered.” He described Bartholomew’s dented old van as best he could. “Your illusions will be a distraction from the real one, in case someone tries to follow. There should be five or six parked around the city, and I’ll need them between two o’clock and dawn.”

  “You’re joking,” Olivia declared.

  “No, I’m not,” said Charlie solemnly.

  “OK, you’re not joking.” Olivia grinned. “Emma will help me to stay awake. Actually, I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

  As they left the art room, a tall, slightly hunched figure appeared at the far end of the hall. It began to limp toward them and Charlie froze. Manfred was out and about again. He waited for the masked figure to come closer.

  Fidelio and Olivia stood on either side of Charlie, watching the tall figure move into the beams of the only light in the hall.

  Charlie’s mouth fell open. There was no mask. There were no scars. Manfred’s face was as smooth and pale as it had ever been.

  “Surprised, are you, Charlie Bone? Shocked, are you?” Manfred limped up to Charlie and stood in front of him. “It’s a good thing I’m blessed with clever friends, isn’t it?” He stroked his flat cheek. “I bet you never expected to see me like this again, did you?”

  Unable to think of a reply, Charlie coughed.

  “We always hoped for the best,” Olivia gushed. “It’s just great to see you looking so — so handsome, Manfred.”

  Fidelio spluttered behind his hand.

  “SIR,” barked Manfred. “You will call me sir.”

  “Yes, sir,” Olivia replied meekly.

  “Get ready for supper. You shouldn’t be here!”

  “Yes, sir,” they replied.

  They hurried past Manfred, not daring to look at one another, but when they reached the end of the hall, Manfred called, “I’m watching you, Charlie Bone, so don’t get any silly ideas.”

  “No, sir,” Charlie mumbled.

  There was a tense, stifling atmosphere in the King’s room that night. Joshua Tilpin looked very much the worse for wear. His hair was plastered with bits of paper, dust, cobwebs, and pencil shavings. Torn plastic wrappers stuck to his sleeves, and his hands were covered in crumbs.

  The twins, aware that Tancred was responsible for their bruises, kept aiming books and pencil cases in his direction, but their strength seemed to have been depleted and Tancred easily repulsed them with a few stiff breezes.

  Dagbert watched everything with a calm, calculating expression. Occasionally, he caught Charlie’s eye, and his face told Charlie everything. Dagbert would do anything that Manfred asked.

  During two hours of homework, Emma was the only one to smile. Tancred had invited her to sit beside him and, blushing furiously, Emma accepted. The smile came later. It was only the ghost of a smile, but it lasted a long time and it lifted Charlie’s spirits considerably.

  After homework the children dispersed in silence. Charlie didn’t even glance at Tancred and Lysander. He knew he must give no hint of tonight’s secret arrangement.

  In the dormitory Fidelio behaved as if nothing unusual was about to take place, though Billy wore a continual frown and seemed very distracted.

  When Charlie finally lay down in bed he felt as though a coiled spring, deep inside him, might suddenly unravel. How could he possibly lie still until two o’clock? He wanted to begin Asa’s rescue right now, before he lost his nerve.

  Sometime between eleven o’clock and midnight, Charlie fell asleep, exhausted by his own imagination. He had been picturing so many different versions of Asa’s rescue, his mind had finally demanded a rest.

  Charlie woke up to find someone gently shaking his arm.

  “Charlie. It’s two o’clock,” whispered Fidelio.

  Charlie sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t even hear my watch.”

  “I thought you might not. Charlie, Dagbert’s not in his bed. I don’t know when he left the room.”

  Charlie rolled out of bed. “Can’t worry about that now,” he whispered. “I’d better wake Billy.” He pulled on his blue cape while he found his shoes with his feet.

  A gentle tap on the head brought Billy scrambling out from under the covers. “What?” he said.

  “Shhh!” Charlie put a hand over Billy’s mouth.

  “No! No!” came Billy’s muffled voice. “Please, no.”

  “Shhh! Billy, it’s only me, Charlie. It’s time to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Shhh! To rescue Asa.”

  “I don’t want to go,” said Billy, pushing Charlie’s hand away.

  On the other side of the dormitory, someone stirred and moaned in their sleep. Waiting to make sure that no one had woken up, Charlie whispered, “Please, Billy. I need you.”

  There was a long silence, and then Billy reached for his glasses. Swinging his feet to the floor, he struggled into his cape and shoes. Charlie grabbed his arm and wordlessly they crossed the dormitory.

  “Good luck!” Fidelio’s whisper was so soft, Charlie never heard him.

  Out in the dimly lit hallway, Charlie could see Billy’s huge, terrified eyes, and he felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Billy. Please don’t be scared. I wouldn’t ask you to do this, but you’re the only person who can talk to Asa.”

  “Not Asa, the Wilderness Wolf,” said Billy. “And I’m only scared of not being able to do the right thing.”

  “You will do the right thing. Come on.” Charlie began to creep briskly down the hall.

  The only sounds in the vast, sleeping building were the soft patterings of their feet on the oak floorboards. The great, silent emptiness made Charlie feel as though he and Billy were the only beings alive. And yet he knew that, somewhere in the darkness, Dagbert Endless and Manfred Bloor were awake, and waiting.

  But no one appeared as they hurried out of the dorm, no one followed them down the narrow hall to the theater, and no one barred their way onto the stage. The dark in the theater was so absolute, Charlie had to pull out his flashlight.

  “Where do we go now?” Billy whispered.

  Charlie shone his flashlight across the back of the stage until he saw the trapdoor. “There!” he said.

 
; “It’ll be very dark,” Billy said nervously.

  “Very,” Charlie agreed. “But this flashlight is pretty good.” He beamed it along the hem of the velvet curtains, half expecting to see Manfred hiding in one of the deep folds. But no one was there. He tiptoed over to the trapdoor and, looking furtively over his shoulder, lifted the door by its iron ring.

  “It wasn’t locked,” Billy observed.

  “Never is,” said Charlie.

  “But it could be,” said Billy. “There’s a padlock on that ring beside the opening. Someone could shut the door and lock us in.”

  Charlie glanced at the rusty-looking padlock. “It’s old, Billy. No one’s used it for years. There probably isn’t even a key to fit it. And look, it’s closed. No one could open that. Come on.”

  Lowering the trapdoor onto the floor, Charlie began to descend the wooden steps. Billy gave the padlock an anxious glance. “Do I shut the trapdoor after me?”

  “You’d better,” called Charlie. He reached the foot of the steps and switched on the light.

  Billy climbed in and pulled the trapdoor over his head. “I’ve never been in here,” he said when he was standing in the room full of cupboards and trunks.

  “It’s the costume department.” A thought came to Charlie. “We’d better find some clothes for Asa, for when he’s a boy again.”

  “IF he’s ever a boy again,” muttered Billy.

  Charlie opened the first trunk. He took out a thick tweed coat and put it on beneath his cape. Billy found a blue beret in one of the cupboards and a pair of green corduroys in another trunk. He pulled the beret over his head, and tied the trousers around his neck. Charlie pounced on some thick-soled brown boots that he liked the look of, wondering if he could do a swap with Asa later on. He tied the laces together and hung them around his neck.

  “Should we turn the light off?” asked Billy, as Charlie headed for the dark recess behind a row of pillars.

  Charlie hesitated. “No. We’ll have to come back this way, when we’ve gotten Asa to the riverbank.”

  “IF we find Asa,” Billy said quietly.

  Once he was behind the pillars, Charlie trained his flashlight on the dark, mildewy wall. At the very end, a low, arched entrance was revealed. At that moment, Charlie would have given almost anything to have turned back. But he knew he couldn’t. “Come on,” he said, and was very relieved to hear Billy’s footsteps padding behind him.