by Jenny Nimmo
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him, and Mom said she'd never speak to him again, Mr. Ezekiel, I mean, not Dad."
"I'm very glad to hear it," said Paton. "Of course you may join us."
A few minutes later they were all three sitting around the Onimouses' ample kitchen table, drinking tea and eating lemon tarts. Runner Bean was not disappointed. Mrs. Onimous gave him a whole bowl of beef bars to make up for the ten kisses he'd endured. Though, with little Una around, he was having to put up with a rather rough grooming.
Uncle Paton got straight to the point. He held nothing back in his long explanation of why the endowed children must use the secret door into the castle. Charlie even produced the scrap of parchment as a further persuasion.
The Onimouses listened in spellbound silence and when all that could be said had been said, Mr. Onimous shook his furry head in wonder.
"Those other kids, your friends, they were talking about the king," said the little man, "but we couldn't
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get the whole picture. This bit of parchment, this spell, or whatever it is, it explains it all, doesn't it? I've never relaxed the rules before, but this is an exception. As for the door, well, I can see we have no option. As long as all the kids keep their mouths shut about it."
"They will," said Charlie fervently.
"I knew our little Una would come in handy," said Mrs. Onimous, grabbing the little girl and giving her a squeeze.
"Let go," Una giggled. "Or I'll lose me lunch."
"Bless her," said Mr. Onimous, "she can't help it." He closed his eyes and counted the number of Charlie's friends on his fingers, muttering the names of each one in turn. When he came to Una, he opened his eyes and said, "Even with Naren, there's only nine. How are we going to find ten, Mr. Paton?"
"Ah," said Paton. "That I wouldn't know."
A hush fell over the room. Even Una was silenced by the look of fierce concentration on everyone's face.
All at once, Mr. Onimous leaned forward and said,
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"If I may be so bold, I'm not less than twenty years, but I am awfully small. Do you think I would do?"
They all stared at the small, furry little man, and then Uncle Paton said, "Orvil, I think you should give it a try. For the life of me I can't imagine where we're going to find another child of the Red King under twenty." He rose from the table. "Orvil, Onoria, I thank you for your hospitality. Boys, we must be on our way."
"It's been a pleasure as always, Mr. Paton," said Mr. Onimous. "But I nearly forgot something. The bird-girl, Emma, said she was going to look for the white horse tonight."
"The white horse?" Paton frowned.
Mr. Onimous shrugged. "She said the horse would know where the king was."
Charlie uttered a cry of understanding. "The white horse is the queen. She's bound to be close to the king."
"I do hope the dear girl will be safe," Paton said anxiously.
"Nothing we can do about it now." Mr. Onimous
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lifted the candelabra and led his visitors out of the kitchen and through the dark cafe.
Norton, the bouncer, had already gone home, and Mr. Onimous could be heard locking and bolting his door as Uncle Paton, the two boys, and Runner Bean made their way up Frog Street.
A light was on in the living room at number nine Filbert Street. Believing that Grandma Bone was watching TV, Charlie and his uncle avoided the room. They went straight to the kitchen where they immediately lit several candles.
"Better not talk about tomorrow," Uncle Paton warned as he set about making a plate of ham sandwiches.
Charlie nodded. He poured himself a glass of milk and sat at the table. The figure in the doorway took him by surprise and he gave a loud yell, spilling some of the milk.
"What the... ?" Uncle Paton turned to the door. "Amy?" he said. "Is that you?"
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Charlie's mother stepped into the room. Even in candlelight her skin looked icy white. Her hair was as colorless as thistledown and only a hint of blue showed in her huge pale eyes. Her ghostly appearance was emphasized by a long white gown with a thread of silver at the hem.
"Mom," Charlie said, with a catch in his voice. "I thought you were out."
"Mr. Noble was very busy today." She gave a dreamy smile. "But tomorrow he's going to take me somewhere wonderful."
"Care for a sandwich, Amy?" Paton asked in a loud voice.
"No, thank you." She twisted the huge emerald ring on her finger. "I'm not at all hungry these days."
"You look as if you haven't eaten for weeks," said Paton, hoping his gruff tone would drag Amy back to reality.
But Charlie's mother just smiled. "Don't be silly." She giggled. "I'm going to get married. How about that?"
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Charlie's mouth fell open, but he couldn't speak. Even Uncle Paton seemed lost for words. They watched Amy drift away, heard her mount the stairs, and then listened to a door closing at the top of the house.
"She didn't even look in on Maisie," Charlie said miserably.
"Buck up, dear boy." Uncle Paton squeezed his shoulder. "Tomorrow the Red King will have his day!"
Not far from Filbert Street, Emma and Miss Ingledew were standing outside the bookstore. The temperature was falling fast; already the cobblestones were dusted with frost. The moon was rising over the cathedral and an early star shone in the deep blue sky.
"I wish you didn't have to do this." Mss Ingledew laid a hand on Emma's blond head. You will take care."
"I will, Auntie. Gabriel says the king is a tree. He saw it when he put on the cloak. It's all up to me now. I feel so - I don't know - excited, I suppose. I know I'll find them." Emma gave her aunt a quick kiss.
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"I'm going now. Don't worry." She began to run down the narrow alley that led away from the square.
In a dark corner, where two trees grew close to the wall of the city library, Emma stood very still and thought of a bird. She had decided to take the form of a barn owl, a bird she considered to be the most beautiful of all night owls. Her fingers tingled as they gradually changed into feathers, and she couldn't restrain a hoot of joy when her creamy wings lifted her into the air.
The sky had looked so calm, but once Emma was flying she was hit by a wave of turbulence. Someone was sending a surge of fury through the air. Tracing the path of anger to its source, Emma found herself outside a window at the very top of Kingdom's store.
She perched on the sill and cautiously peered inside. A man in a green robe paced across an ocean of white fur. Emma shivered. The man held a beautiful mirror; its gold frame was studded with jewels but the glass itself was scarred by a crack that ran
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from top to bottom. The man stopped and looked at a painting on the wall behind him. The painting showed a strange landscape of dark mountains and tall, shadowy towers. A place where nightmares begin, thought Emma. The man turned the mirror to face the painting. He chanted in a deep, toneless voice. Suddenly he cursed the mirror and swung around, flinging it against the wall.
The owl gave a hoot of surprise and flew away.
Did he see me? Emma wondered. Did he know who I was?
She flew on, tilting dangerously through the violent night air. It took all her strength to avoid being thrown against tall trees and telephone wires, but at last she was flying over the grounds of Bloor's Academy. Below her she could see the walls of the ruined castle. And then, with a cry of pain, she found herself falling. A stone had hit the owl's snowy neck and she dropped to the ground, her wings spread against the earth, her head twisted to the sky.
A few yards away from her stood Joshua Tilpin
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and someone in a black hooded cloak. Joshua was clutching a slingshot.
"Look at the owl," said Joshua. "Will our ancestor be pleased, Mother?"
"Very pleased." The woman's hood fell back.
Emma's slanting owl eyes blinked as she recognized Miss Chrystal.
"It's not dead, but it soon will be." Joshua leaped forward and Emma closed her eyes.
But the blow she expected never came. Instead she heard a low growl, and then a soft thump as a four-footed creature landed behind her. She could feel its warm breath on her back, and then the growl turned into a threatening snarl.
"Good beast," said Miss Chrystal in a commanding tone. "Give us the owl."
The beast continued to snarl, and when Joshua attempted a second move, it leaped over the owl and rushed at Joshua, who fled from the scene, screaming in fear.
When Emma opened her eyes again, the boy and
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the witch had gone. But the beast sat close by, beneath the tree. It was a dreadful-looking creature with a humped back and luminous yellow eyes.
"Asa?" Emma called softly. "Asa, is it you?"
The beast whined softly and ran into the undergrowth.
Like every frightened creature, Emma lay as still as possible until she was sure the beast was really gone. When at last she tried to move, she found that she was not injured at all. Shock had brought her down. She stood up, lifted her wings, and soared into the sky. Keeping her eyes trained on the ground, she sailed over the ruined castle until a movement caught her eye. A white horse was trotting around a large, circular glade. Emma flew down and perched on a wall close to the horse. When the white horse saw the owl, she came to a halt and stared anxiously at the bird.
"Your Majesty" - Emma bowed her head - "I need your help."
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"Bird-child!" The queen trotted over to Emma. "How good it is to see you. How can I help?"
"I'm looking for the king," said Emma.
"Then you have found him." The queen moved aside and Emma saw that a large tree grew in the center of the glade. At first it had seemed a dark and shapeless tower, but all at once, color seeped into it and Emma found herself gazing at a tree of astonishing beauty. Its leaves were red and gold, and when they moved in the night air they seemed to burn with a fiery light. From its small glistening crown, the branches grew in ever-widening waves until, close to the ground, the base of its broad trunk could be seen, a trunk that was furrowed with streams of wine-dark liquid.
"Is he wounded?" asked Emma, shivering at the sight of the shining red streams.
"He is weeping for his lost children," said the queen. "The five who left and never returned."
Emma ruffled her pale owl feathers, hoping a cure
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for the king's sadness could be found. "Will the king be here tomorrow?" she asked. "A friend of mine needs his help."
"The king will be here," the queen replied.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Emma lifted into the air and hovered anxiously above the queen. "I must go now. My aunt worries."
"Naturally." The queen walked closer to the tree. "Go home, bird-child. Be safe."
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THE KING'STEARS
At two o'clock on Sunday afternoon Charlie's mother left the house. The gold limousine was waiting for her.
From his bedroom window, Charlie watched his mother get into the car. He wondered if the cracked mirror would work after all. Perhaps there was no time left to stop the count from stealing his mother away.
"Charlie!" said Uncle Paton from the doorway. "There's a call for you." He held out his cell phone.
Gabriel's voice was already trickling out of the phone when Charlie put his ear to it. "Charlie, you wanted to know about the cloak, but you never came to the cafe."
"I was late. Tell me, Gabe. What did you see?"
"I didn't see a king at all, I saw a tree. The leaves were so bright it looked like it was on fire."
"I know."
"You know?" Gabriel sounded disappointed.
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"I found a spell. I wanted to tell you all, but I was too late."
There was a sudden bang and Charlie almost dropped the phone. "Sorry," came a muffled voice. "Gerbil's got out. Must go. See you at four."
"Bye ..." Charlie handed the phone back to his uncle. "Gabriel saw a tree."
"It's conclusive, then." Uncle Paton slipped the cell phone into his pocket.
"Why can't we leave now?" said Charlie impatiently. "Why do we have to wait until four o'clock?"
"Sunset," said Uncle Paton. "Besides, others are involved. Everything has to be in place. By the way, you must take this." He held up a small glass bottle.
"Why?"
"In case all else fails."
"Uncle Paton, I wish you wouldn't talk in riddles." Charlie took the bottle and put it in his pocket.
"Look, Charlie, this spell - the numbers aren't right, for a start. Mr. Onimous is well over twenty years old - it might not work as we hope."
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Uncle Paton shrugged. "Just keep that bottle safe. For the tears."
Charlie spent the next hour in an agony of suspense. At last he could stand it no longer and knocked loudly on his uncle's door, shouting, "Can't we go now, Uncle P.?"
Grandma Bone leaned out of the bathroom and demanded to know what all the fuss was about. Charlie had almost forgotten his grandmother's existence and her sudden appearance gave him quite a shock.
"S-sorry, Grandma," Charlie stuttered. "Uncle and I were just going for a walk."
"At this time of day? Don't be silly," said Grandma Bone.
Uncle Paton opened his door and said, "He's not being silly. We are going to the park."
"What fools," said his sister. "You're bound to have an accident. By the way," she went on, "I've arranged for Maisie to be transferred."
"Transferred!" cried Charlie. "Where to?"
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"I can't have her cluttering up the bathroom any longer" was all Grandma Bone would say.
"Grizelda!" roared Paton. "How dare you speak of Maisie in that way. She's a very precious person. What have you arranged? Tell me immediately."
"My! We are on our high horse today," sneered Grandma Bone. "If you must know, that nice Mr. Weedon has agreed to come here tomorrow to pick Maisie up. He'll bring a body bag to avoid the drips on the carpet, and then he'll whisk Maisie off to" - she paused dramatically - "to another place."
"He will do no such thing," Paton declared. "If Weedon so much as touches our Maisie, I'll throw him downstairs."
"A forlorn hope," said Grandma Bone. "He's got muscles like iron." She gave a mocking smile and sailed into her room.
Paton stood speechless and seething, his arms stiff at his sides and his fists working overtime.
"Come on, Uncle." Charlie plucked at his uncle's sleeve. "Let's go."
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Before they left the house, Charlie took the white moth to the bathroom and let it fly wherever it wanted. It came to rest on Maisie's frozen curls.
"Keep her safe," Charlie told the moth.
As they walked through the deserted Sunday city, Charlie felt as though his whole world was tumbling down around his ears. If the spell came to nothing, then where would he be?
The mood at the Pets' Cafe lifted his spirits considerably. Every table was occupied and the cafe was full of eager expectant chatter. The Onimouses were having a hard time getting everyone served; they whizzed along behind the counter, refilling bowls, serving pets who needed special diets, and pouring tea.
The large Gunn family
had taken over a whole table. They had even brought musical instruments, Charlie observed. Fidelio beckoned him over and said, "We thought we'd entertain everyone while you guys are doing whatever you've got to do."
"Brilliant idea!" said Charlie, looking around the cafe. "I can't see any Looms."
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"I heard they were having trouble with their dogs," said Fidelio. He turned to his youngest sister, Mimi, who'd begun to tune her violin. "Not yet, Mimi! Wish Charlie good luck!"
When they heard this, every member of the Gunn family sang, "Good luck, Charlie Bone!"
Several customers turned to look in Charlie's direction. He blushed, retreated from the Gunns' overcrowded table, and sat down between Benjamin and Mrs. Brown.
"Even Lysander's dad came," Benjamin told Charlie. "Look, Homer's sitting on his head."
Charlie was impressed, especially when the judge gave Uncle Paton a friendly nod as he passed. If other customers were surprised by the high turnout, they didn't show it, at least not until Tancred and his parents arrived. As soon as Mr. Torsson set foot in the cafe, an icy blast sent every pet scurrying for cover.
"Sorry!" boomed Mr. Torsson. "Nothing personal. Can't help it." He sat beside the judge, whom he knew
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quite well, while his wife squeezed in beside Mrs. Sage. Tancred shared a chair with Lysander.
Billy had joined the Silks' table, and Rembrandt, sitting in the center, was enjoying the attention of several female gerbils.
Mrs. Vertigo had almost overdone the dowdiness. In a gray wig, tattered brown coat, and with a pale scrubbed face, she would have been unrecognizable if Olivia hadn't been with her. Miss Ingledew gave a little start of surprise when she realized who was sitting next to her.
"I don't know what you told everyone," Miss Ingledew whispered to Paton as he took the chair on her other side. "But it's certainly done the trick."
Paton winked and briefly squeezed her hand.
Charlie searched the room for Naren. There was no sign of her. He darted a desperate look at his uncle and shook his head.
"What's wrong?" Mrs. Vertigo asked in an elderly treble.
