Charlie Bone and the Hidden King (Children of the Red King, Book 5) (11 page)

It was too late to change tables. A door beside the platform opened and two waiters bustled in with carts of hot food.

Under the table, Blessed ran up to Billy, whining softly.

"Tell him to be quiet," whispered Charlie, "or he'll give us away."

Billy gave several soft grunts, and Blessed lay beside him, thumping his hairless tail.

"What's that?" said one of the waiters.

Billy puffed, almost soundlessly, into Blessed's ear and the thumping stopped.

"Probably a rat," said the other waiter.

The first one laughed. "Hope it bites someone's ankle. I'm fed up with this job. I've been here since six o'clock this morning, and the pay's rotten."

"They're a mean bunch," his companion agreed.

The two waiters made so much noise transferring food from their carts onto the tables, Charlie and Billy were able to crawl, undetected, toward the platform. Charlie wanted to be in a good position to hear what was said at the top table.

Two more carts were wheeled in, and not long after that, the boys heard a great babble of voices that drew closer and closer until they spilled into the dining hall. A hundred pairs of feet shuffled, marched, stamped, and pattered around the room, as the visitors searched for their places.

Crouched in the dark, Charlie and Billy listened to the chomping, slurping, and gulping that was going on above them. Charlie was trapped between two pairs of very long black-trousered legs. He decided to move and backed into Billy who, unfortunately, put his hand on a foot in a silver shoe.

"Do you mind?" said a woman's voice.

"Pardon?" said the man opposite her.

"You kicked me."

"You're mistaken. It was someone else."

Pushing Blessed in front of them, the boys crawled away from the silver shoe as fast as they could. Just in time. The tablecloth was lifted and the woman in silver shoes looked under the table. The boys held their breaths until, with a grunt of annoyance, the woman let the cloth fall back into place.

The Hundred Heads' dinner went on and on and on.

Blessed fell asleep and Billy started yawning, and then a hush fell over the room as Dr. Bloor began to speak.

After he had welcomed his guests, the names of all the academies were read out: Loth, Oranga, Mor-van, Derivere, Somphammer, Festyet, Ipakuk, Altabeeta . . . The list continued. Charlie's eyes began to close, and then, suddenly, he was wide awake. Dr. Bloor had uttered the name Lyell Bone, and it was connected to a crime. Charlie sat bolt upright, his head just grazing the top of the table.

"Those of you who were here ten years ago will remember my grandfather, Ezekiel Bloor, as an active and agile ninety-year-old. Today, sadly, he is confined to a wheelchair. Lyell Bone is distantly related to us, and so the crime was doubly shocking." Dr. Bloor paused and cleared his throat.

"Please," said a voice close to Charlie, "can you tell us how this crime was committed?"

"He knocked me down," shouted Ezekiel. "Tried to kill me. Pushed me. Head hit stone. Bingo! Couldn't move. Done for. The SCOUNDREL!"

A gasp rippled around the room.

"But why?" asked another voice, a woman this time. "Why did he do this terrible thing?"

"Some of you," said Dr. Bloor, avoiding the question, "will run your establishments in a different way from us. But all of you will be acting in the interests of our wider family. Like you, we draw the Children of the Red King toward us. We offer them scholarships, first-class teaching, and equipment. We protect them, nurture them, prepare them for the difficulties they may face when they are adults . . .. Occasionally, it becomes necessary, for the child's own good you understand, to remove it from its parents."

"Do you mean that you steal them?" asked an indignant voice.

"He said 'remove, screeched Ezekiel. "Stealing doesn't come into it. For the greater good we must control these children, and if their parents seem likely to resist, then, yes, we must take them by any means."

A murmur of agreement ran along the table above him, but Charlie noticed a few sounds of dissent.

"However," Ezekiel continued, "in the case of a certain child who could fly, her father, Dr. Tolly, was happy to hand her over. It was Lyell Bone who tried to prevent it by striking me to the ground. His protest was unsuccessful and he was duly punished."

"And did the punishment fit the crime?" someone asked in a gruff voice.

"Yes, Dr. Loth. Thanks to my great-grandson, Manfred Bloor. Manfred, stand up!"

The distant scrape of a chair seemed to indicate that Manfred was sitting at the top table. Someone clapped and others joined in. Charlie couldn't imagine why.

"Manfred may be the greatest hypnotist who has ever lived," Ezekiel proudly announced. "At only nine years of age, he erased Lyell Bone's memory with a single glance. The man is now utterly helpless. He doesn't even know who he is."

A profound silence followed this remark, and for some reason, this made Ezekiel laugh. He laughed so much he almost choked. Charlie found the sound unbearable. He could hardly contain his anger and had to clasp his arms tight around his body, to stop himself from leaping out.

In a stirring voice, Dr. Bloor continued, "Manfred also put the baby 'under. She was two at the time. It lasted until she was ten and then Lyell Bone's confounded son woke her up."

There was a mutter of surprise. Snatches of conversation reached Charlie. "Who?" "How was this done?" "Do you . . . ?" "Could it be . . . ?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed Dr. Bloor, "do not be concerned. The girl is still here, and so is Lyell's son, Charlie. These endowed children stick together like glue. Charlie is a picture traveler, a priceless gift, as you well know. He has proved difficult, probably because he is his father's son, but he is well guarded. These charming ladies on my right are his grandmother, Grizelda Bone, and his three great-aunts,

Lucretia, Eustacia, and Venetia Yewbeam. They all keep an eye on Charlie Bone. . . ."

"And one day," Ezekiel broke in, "Charlie will take me with him, into the past, where I can . . . rearrange history." He began to cackle again.

Dr. Loth called, "Bravo!" and others took up the call. But some remained silent.

Billy, who had been lying asleep on top of Blessed, suddenly woke up and gave a tiny sneeze. The cloth was lifted right in front of Charlie and an upside-down face appeared. It had a beard and wore a blue turban.

Charlie stared straight into the man's dark brown eyes. He didn't know what to do. The man stared right back at him. Charlie waited for something to happen. The man with the turban seemed to be waiting, too. So Charlie did the only thing he could think of. He put a finger to his lips.

The man gave him a broad smile and dropped the cloth back in place.

Charlie had only just begun to breathe again when a thin, petulant voice cried, "I smell boy!"

"Boy?" said several voices.

"Smells are my thing," the thin male voice went on. "I can smell a boy, possibly two - or three."

Charlie and Billy looked at each other in terror. It was all over. They were about to be found out. And then Charlie had an idea. He pointed at Blessed.

Billy grunted into the old dog's ear and Blessed scrambled to his feet. With a little shove from Billy, he tottered under the tablecloth and out into the dining hall. As he went, he let out the worst stink Charlie had ever smelled. It was so bad and so strong he nearly keeled over. Billy had told Blessed to give the biggest fart of his whole life.

Cries of horror and disgust reverberated around the room. "Uuuurrgh!" "PU!" "What is that smell?" "It's a dog." "An old dog!" "What a monster!"

"That's not the smell of boy, it's the smell of dog," said an irritated voice.

"Your nose is growing old, Professor Morvan." This voice belonged to a jolly-sounding woman. "It can't tell boy from dog."

Laughter followed, and old Ezekiel screamed, "Don't be so rude about my doggie. He can't help it."

"I think we should let him out, Dr. Bloor," someone suggested. "I'm sure he wants to go - that is - leave."

"A good idea," Dr. Bloor agreed. "Would someone kindly . . ."

"And be quick about it," added another female voice.

A chair scraped. Someone ran and opened the door. Blessed gave a bark of thanks and padded out. More laughter.

Fortunately, the old dog had left such a bad smell behind him, Professor Morvan's nose was thoroughly confused and he said nothing more about the smell of boys.

When the laughter had subsided, Dr. Bloor coughed loudly and said, "I apologize for the distraction but now I would like to get back to the momentous development that we hinted at when we welcomed you here tonight."

"We're all ears," said Dr. Loth.

"Thank you." Dr. Bloor waited for complete silence and then continued with barely suppressed excitement. "First, I must give you a brief history of someone whom even I had never heard of, until last week. Count Harken Badlock."

Silence. Obviously, no one knew about Count Harken Badlock. Charlie listened intently, aware that he was about to learn something of immense importance.

"Count Harken was eighteen years old when he arrived in Spain. He began to court the beautiful Berenice, daughter of a knight of Toledo. The young count was a sorcerer and very soon Berenice fell under his spell. They were to be married, and then . . ."

"Surely, Berenice married the Red King," a voice interrupted.

"Indeed, she did," agreed Dr. Bloor. "But there was a duel between the two men and Count Harken lost. For all his sorcery, all his charm, he could not compete with the Red King's magic, and so he lost the fair Berenice."

Dr. Bloor's audience waited in wordless suspense for the story to continue, as surely it must.

"As you know, Queen Berenice died when her tenth child, Amoret, was born. The king, as was the custom of his people, went into the forest to grieve for his wife. His children were left in the care of servants - until Count Harken appeared. Yes, my friends, he came to protect the children of his beloved Berenice. He taught them all he knew, guarded them against marauding strangers, and married the king's eldest daughter, Lilith."

"How has all this suddenly come to light, Dr. Bloor?" someone asked.

There was a dramatic pause. Charlie's scalp prickled and he imagined Dr. Bloor leaning forward, in an attitude of triumph.

"Because I have heard it from the count himself."

There was a collective gasp of disbelief before Dr. Bloor continued, "I know it's hard to believe that a man who lived nine hundred years ago is with us again. But it's the truth. I am utterly convinced of it."

Above a chorus of questions and protests, old Ezekiel cried, "He was a mere shadow in the Red King's portrait, but someone let him out."

Charlie grabbed Billy's arm so tightly, he gave a little gasp of pain. In the dim light beneath the table, Charlie could see that Billy's eyes were as wide as his own.
The shadow,
he mouthed. Charlie nodded.

The noise that greeted Ezekiel's revelation almost amounted to an uproar.

"Who let him out?"

"Where is he now?"

These two questions could be heard above all the others. Dr. Bloor begged for silence and when the commotion had subsided, he answered, "Where is he? He is safe. He has acclimated to this century in the most remarkable way. It took him ten minutes to learn our language and once that was accomplished he was able to acquaint himself with our politics, our finances, our mode of dress, our habits, in short -"

"But then, he is an enchanter," Ezekiel put in.

"Indeed, yes," said Dr. Bloor. "Unfortunately, he had to be a little ruthless when it came to finding a home and an income, but these things cannot always be avoided." He gave an awkward laugh. "At this point, I must ask you, dear guests, not to repeat a word of what I have told you outside this building. We are used to keeping secrets, are we not? We have to, or the world would turn against us."

There was a rumble of agreement and then Dr. Loth's voice drowned out the others. "Who is it?" he demanded. "Who let the shadow out, and how?"

"Ah." Dr. Bloor paused. "The count is not sure. He claims it was done with a mirror, some call it the Mirror of Amoret. We found him in the hall, during a snowstorm. The person who released him had slipped away."

"We thought it was Venetia, here," said Ezekiel. "She's the cleverest of us. The wickedest." He chuckled.

"Well, it wasn't," said Venetia sullenly.

"So you see . . . ," began Dr. Bloor.

"It was me," said a voice. "I did it."

"You?"
The headmaster sounded utterly astonished.

"Yes, me. I found the Mirror of Amoret."

Charlie froze. Every nerve in his body began to tingle. He knew that voice. It came from one of the last people in the world he would have expected.

THE SHOCKING TRUTH

The only sound in the room came from footsteps that began near the door. Sharp and light, they were made by a woman wearing very high heels.

Charlie was so shocked, he began to feel sick. Billy's face, in the gloom, looked gray with fear. If this could happen, anything was possible.

The footsteps reached the platform and Dr. Bloor found his voice at last. "Miss Chrystal, please step up and tell us how all this came about."

"Thank you." There were four light footfalls on the steps up to the top table.

"Someone give her a seat," said Ezekiel.

"I prefer to stand," said Miss Chrystal.

"Are you going to tell us your . . . your history, my dear?" asked Dr. Bloor. "And how you released the count? We are all eager to know the details."

Jolted out of their dumbfounded silence, the audience loudly agreed.

"Of course." Miss Chrystal's voice was still light and musical, but all the sweetness had gone out of it. Now there was a coldness behind her words, a hard and brittle note that made Charlie shiver.

"Fourteen years ago I was the happiest girl in the world. I was in love and I thought the man I loved returned my feelings. But he rejected me and married another. My heart was broken. I thought I would die. Eventually, I married a man named Matthew Tilpin. We had a son, Joshua."

At this point Charlie almost spluttered out loud. Billy carefully laid a hand over Charlie's open mouth.

"Not long after Joshua was born," Miss Chrystal went on, "my husband left us. He said he was afraid of our baby. Things stuck to Joshua, you see. Dust, fluff, insects, bits of paper, and when you touched his tiny hands they clung. It was difficult to draw away. Matthew said that if he stayed, one day the baby would make him do something terrible. He could already feel Joshua bending his will.

"My mother had often told me that we were descended from the Red King," Miss Chrystal continued, "and I had some success with magic when I was a child. But it is useless in affairs of the heart, so I rather gave it up. And then, last Christmas, my great-uncle died and left me a chest full of papers. Some had been in the family for nine hundred years. A lot of it was impossible to read. Much was useless scribbling, but I did discover that we were descended from Lilith, the Red King's eldest daughter, and her husband, Count Harken Badlock."

The hundred heads all gasped at once, but Miss Chrystal plowed on, almost without taking a breath. "Among the papers there was a map in perfect condition, but very, very small; you wouldn't believe how small it was - is. It must have been overlooked for generations. I have no idea who made it, perhaps the count drew it himself; I must ask him." She gave a small laugh. "It told me where I could find the Mirror of Amoret. The mirror that would bring the count back into the world. I merely had to hold it before the Red King's portrait, so that reflected light fell over the shadow behind him and" - she paused - "and so I did - and it worked. The count is back!" When she said the last four words Miss Chrystal's voice crackled with rapturous excitement.

"A glass of water," said Dr. Bloor.

"Here, a chair." Someone pushed a chair across the floor.

A babble of conversation broke out among the guests. If Charlie and Billy had wanted to change their positions, now would have been the time, but Charlie was too stunned to move.

Miss Chrystal hadn't finished with her audience. "I have something more to say," she announced. "My son, Joshua, is very powerful. Like Charlie Bone, he has the blood of two magicians running in his veins. If Charlie is to be controlled, then Joshua can do it. As for the matter of Charlie's father, the count will make sure that he never wakes." She gave a brittle laugh. "Oh, yes, the count will make sure that Lyell Bone is lost, lost, lost forever."

After a brief silence, a voice above Charlie said,

"Miss Chrystal, I would like to ask you a question." Charlie had a feeling that the voice belonged to the man in the turban. "Will you tell us the name of the man who rejected you?"

"Who do you think?" she said coldly. "It was Lyell Bone."

Charlie shuddered so violently Billy had to hold his arm.

"Let's get out of here," Charlie whispered.

There was now such a hubbub in the dining hall, the boys' frantic scramble to the end of the table couldn't be heard. Chairs began to squeak. People got up and moved about. Carts were wheeled in and the boys could hear the clink of china.

"Coffee, everyone!" Dr. Bloor announced. "Coffee and Turkish delight. Please take your seats for a few more minutes."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Billy whispered.

Charlie shrugged hopelessly. The doors were at least two yards from the table. Even if they crawled, someone was bound to see them. He had an idea. Hoping that the waiters would wheel their carts right to the end of the table, he waited just out of reach of the last pair of legs.

The carts rolled closer, one on each side of the table. As best as he could, Charlie mimed climbing onto the lower shelf of the cart. Billy understood and nodded.

At last the two waiters reached the very end of the table. With a last look at Billy's anxious face, Charlie grinned encouragingly and scrambled under the red cloth that covered one of the carts. The lower shelf was now empty, and the waiter was distracted by serving coffee. Huddled uncomfortably on the shelf, Charlie realized that the red cloth didn't entirely cover him. Crossing his fingers, he remained perfectly still while the cart was wheeled slowly to the other end of the dining hall. As soon as they were safely through the swinging doors, the waiter came to a stop and began to swear. "What the . . . ?" He looked under the cloth and found Charlie.

"For heaven's sake! A kid!" said the waiter, a young man with a slightly pimply face. "What are you doing here?"

"I got detention and I was bored," said Charlie, hoping the young man was a sympathetic type.

The young man laughed. "I'll bet you were bored. Now, do you mind getting off my cart? My back's been hurting something awful."

"Please, couldn't you take me a bit farther?" Charlie begged. "Just through the kitchens?"

"You're joking. I've been working since six o'clock a.m."

"Just through the green kitchen, then," Charlie pleaded. "I don't want Mrs. Weedon to catch me."

"I get your point. All right, hold tight."

Charlie gritted his teeth as they passed through Mrs. Weedon's domain. He could see the lower half of her wide body stomping along in a cloud of steam beside the vast sinks. And then they were in the next part of the kitchens, behind the drama cafeteria. The waiter wheeled Charlie through the cafeteria and into the hallway.

"Now, scram," said the waiter, "or I'll be in for it as well as you."

Charlie rolled off the cart, thanking the waiter profusely. "I've got a friend who's . . . ," he began, but the waiter had gone.

Hoping that Billy was also in sympathetic hands, Charlie raced up the back stairs and along the dark halls until he reached his dormitory.

Billy didn't appear. Charlie waited and waited. The cathedral clock struck ten. The voices of departing guests could be heard in the courtyard. What had happened to Billy? Charlie chewed his lip anxiously. If Billy was caught, would he tell the Bloors that Charlie had been with him?

When the clock struck eleven, Charlie made a body-shaped bundle out of his clothes and pushed it under the covers of Billy's bed. A few minutes later the matron looked in. Charlie closed his eyes and lay very still. The matron left.

Charlie couldn't sleep. He went over to the window and looked out across the courtyard. No lights showed in the windows of the west wing. The whole building was in darkness. Charlie had just decided to go looking for Billy when a small figure crept in.

"Billy, where've you been?" cried Charlie.

"I got locked in a storeroom," Billy said wearily.

"How?"

"The waiter just shoved my cart into this closet sort of place and locked the door." As Billy crossed the pitch-dark room his face was suddenly lit from below by a tiny, flickering light. Charlie saw that he was carrying a slim candle that had, apparently, burst into flame by itself.

"How did that happen?" asked Charlie.

Having reached his bed, Billy blew out the candle and scrambled under the covers, flinging out the bundle of clothes as he did so. "Neat trick," he said with a yawn.

"Billy, I'm wide awake," said Charlie. "Before you go to sleep, please tell me how you got out of the storeroom, and how that candle lit itself."

"Well." Billy yawned again. "I waited till it was quiet, then I found a bit of paper and pushed it under the door. I poked a pencil into the keyhole and knocked the key onto it, then I pulled it through to my side. It was dark and I was so, so scared. I always carry my candles with me, the ones my guardian, Mr. Crowquill, gave me before he died. I didn't know what they could do until tonight. I took one out and . . . and . . ." Billy's next yawn was almost a groan.

"And," pressed Charlie.

"I tried to find a match, but it was so, so dark, and I was so, so scared, and . . . and . . ."

"And?" cried Charlie, who was now past caring if the matron heard him.

"And . . . and I cried," Billy confessed, "and I said, Oh, I wish I could see, and the candle just - lit itself."

"Wow!" Charlie lay back at last. "Amazing. You've had those candles for ages and you never knew what they could do. Poor Christopher Crowquill."

"I've got five candles now, because your uncle gave me the one Mr. Crowquill sent to him. I wish my guardian was still alive." Billy shuffled and turned over.

Charlie allowed himself to feel tired, but before he went to sleep he asked Billy if he'd like to come home with him on Saturday night.

"No thanks," mumbled Billy. "I think I'll stay here. I've never seen a Grand Ball."

Charlie hadn't seen a Grand Ball, either, but nothing could have persuaded him to spend another night at Bloor's Academy.

The following morning, the boys' breakfast was interrupted by a tall man with a bald head and a large ginger mustache. Putting his head around the door of the blue cafeteria, he said, "Ah. Not in here, then?"

"What were you looking for, sir?" asked Charlie through a mouthful of cornflakes.

"Don't speak with your mouth full," snapped Ginger Whiskers.

Cook emerged from the kitchen and the stranger said, "You look like a reasonably sensible woman. Where is the meeting hall?"

Cook glared at the man, indignantly puffing out her chest. "I've no doubt at all that I'm a lot more sensible than you. You should have turned right, not left."

Ginger Whiskers withdrew his head and closed the door with an irritable click.

"Head teachers," muttered Cook. "No manners at all. Think they're gods. And some of them just can't resist showing off. I've had enough of shape-shifters, vanishers, and hocus-pocusers. They vanish the food, send it into the air, change it into chocolate or whatever takes their fancy, and some even tinker with the china, just because they've got a preference for gold or silver. Well, they'll have to restrain themselves tonight, the mayor can't stand that sort of thing."

The boys had been unaware of the enchantments going on while they had been under the table, and were very sorry to have missed them. But they hadn't missed everything.

"Cook." Charlie lowered his voice. "Miss Chrystal is . . ."

"I know, Charlie. I heard. I can't talk about it now. They'll all be here in a minute. All the heads. They start in the theater and then there'll be meetings all over the place; some in the classrooms, some in the gym. I don't know where you two are going to go."

The boys soon found out. They were on their way back to the dormitory when they walked straight into Manfred Bloor.

"What are you two doing here?" barked Manfred.

"We don't know where else to go," said Billy.

"Out!" Manfred pointed to the main staircase.

"Out?" said Charlie. "Till when?"

"Until I come get you," said Manfred.

There was no point in arguing. Charlie and Billy reluctantly walked back to the stairs, where they looked down on a great crowd of head teachers. Some were still showing off. Charlie spotted a donkey and a bear, and watched an ostrich change into a yellow-robed woman. A man in a black coat vanished into thin air, and there was a giant lizard hanging from a beam.

Charlie and Billy cautiously descended into the hall. Once there they had to push their way through the gabbling mass. No rule of silence for them, Charlie noted. No one paid any attention to two boys fighting their way toward the coatrooms, until they came face-to-face with the man in the blue turban.

"Aha, we meet again," said Blue Turban, smiling broadly. He put a finger to his lips and winked at Charlie. "Good luck!"

A large woman pushed Charlie sideways and before he knew it, the man in the blue turban had disappeared into the crowd.

"Who was that?" asked Billy, when they were safe inside the blue coatroom.

"He saw me under the table last night. But he didn't give me away." Charlie pulled on his coat and boots.

"So they really aren't
all
bad. He didn't look like a head teacher, did he?" Billy sat on a bench to untie his shoes.

"He's foreign," Charlie pointed out. "Maybe head teachers look like that wherever he comes from."

As soon as they were outside, Charlie headed for the ruin. The frosty grass crunched under their feet and a freezing mist lay over the grounds. The great red arch of the ruined castle could hardly be seen.

Billy trudged along behind Charlie, hoping it would be warmer inside the ruin. He didn't realize that Charlie had a different purpose.

"What's happened?" Billy stepped into the wrecked courtyard and gazed at the broken flagstones.

"She was looking for the mirror, and that's where she found it." Charlie pointed to the dark square of earth. "Miss Chrystal - the teacher we all thought was the best and kindest in the whole school."

"And she's the worst," said Billy.