Charlie Bone And The Red Knight (Children Of The Red King, Book 8) (20 page)

"He can't stay there, poor love." Mrs. Kettle dressed hastily. She was about to leave the room when the door opened and Emma crept in.

"You gave me quite a fright, my dear," said Mrs. Kettle, patting her heart.

Emma explained that she had left something in one of her drawers, a vest that Alice Angel had made for Olivia. "She's been won over," Emma told Mrs. Kettle.

"Someone gave her a vest that's made her one of THEM. She's changed completely, will hardly speak to me. And she absolutely won't be parted from the awful thing."

"So you want to swap them. The one that troubles her must be exchanged for one that brings her peace."

"It is a bit like that." Emma smiled. Mrs. Kettle had put it so well. Olivia was troubled. Even though she struggled to keep the bewitching vest with her, it appeared to be draining the life out of her. Emma went to her drawer and lifted out the vest that Alice Angel had made.

"It's beautiful." Mrs. Kettle touched the silver circles. "It's easy to see why Olivia would want to wear a thing like this."

"It's as light as a feather," said Emma, "and yet Olivia seems to sink under the other one, as though it's weighted with stones."

"Evil is heavy," Mrs. Kettle declared, "goodness a pleasure to wear."

Mrs. Kettle looked so strong and solid, any qualms that Emma might have had were instantly swept away, and she found herself describing how she would go to Olivia's house in the morning and change the vests while Olivia was dressing. "That's the only moment in the whole day when she'll take it off," said Emma.

"Good luck, my dear." Mrs. Kettle laid a hand on Emma's shoulder, and Emma could feel the strength of all those smith magicians who had gone before. It gave her a rush of courage.

"Thank you, Mrs. Kettle. Good night!"

"Good night to you, my dear. I'll be off now to get my lovely snake."

While Emma went back to bed, Mrs. Kettle slipped down the stairs. She tiptoed through the living room, where Dagbert Endless was moaning in his sleep, and into the kitchen. The back door opened into a small yard. Mrs. Kettle stepped out into the foggy air and closed the door behind her. Then she made a sudden dash across the alley to her own backyard.

On the way she had to pass behind the Stone Shop, and what she saw there made her blood run cold.

The yard was crammed with huge stone creatures, hideous things with tusks, broad noses, eyes hidden in wrinkled stone, and pointed teeth protruding from their lower jaws. What warped imagination had conjured up these dreadful beasts? she wondered. One turned its head, and Mrs. Kettle ran.
Eric Shellhorn,
she thought.
He's bringing them to life.

When she reached her shop, Mrs. Kettle dared not turn a light on. The blue boa was curled beneath a table at the back. He had obviously tried to get as far away from the window as possible. Flames from the street fires bathed the shop in an angry orange glow, and the silhouettes of prancing figures passed constantly across the window.

"Come on, my love!" Mrs. Kettle reached down and coaxed the snake from his hiding place. He crawled up her arm and wrapped himself around her neck. "We'd best be quick," she whispered.

As she stepped into the alley, two figures appeared in the Stone Shop yard: Melmott the stonemason and a burly figure in a white undershirt. Mrs. Kettle hoped they hadn't seen her, but Melmott heard the rattle of a pebble under her foot and looked her way.

"Ah! What have we here?" he said in his cold, rough voice.

"Oh, heavens," whispered Mrs. Kettle. "Solomon, do something!" She pulled the boa's tail, hoping he'd understand.

Solomon did. In two seconds he had slithered from Mrs. Kettle's head right down to her shoes, and both he and Mrs. Kettle vanished.

"What the heck!" Melmott exclaimed.

"Where did they go?" shouted the man in the undershirt.

Mrs. Kettle held her nerve. While the men turned their heads this way and that, she stealthily crept past them.

A cat jumped from a wall farther up the alley, and the men ran toward the sound, shouting, "Gotcha! You can't fool us!"

Mrs. Kettle hitched the invisible boa back onto her shoulders and ran for the bookstore. Bounding into the kitchen, she ran straight into Dagbert Endless, who was getting himself a drink of water. He was just about to scream, when an invisible hand was clamped over his mouth, and a familiar voice said, "Shhh, my dear! It's only me, Mrs. Kettle. You can see for yourself in a moment."

Dagbert watched the space in front of him gradually fill up with the broad figure of Mrs. Kettle. Across her shoulders lay a huge blue snake with feathers on its head.

"This is Solomon," said Mrs. Kettle. "Isn't he a beauty?"

Dagbert nodded. He was too astonished to speak.

20

ON THE HEATH

During the night the fog crept right over the city in a smothering gray cloud. The merrymakers of Piminy Street slept where they had dropped on sidewalks littered with broken glass and drifting ash. The cathedral clock chimed seven across a city that waited, in fear, for the day that was to come.

In Ingledew's Bookstore, Dagbert had fallen into a deep sleep. The cathedral chimes never woke him, nor did Emma creeping past with the vest in a white plastic bag. Once she'd fortified herself with a glass of milk, she tucked the bag under her arm and left the house by the back door. Outside she stood for a moment in the yard. The smell of the fog and burning garbage hit the back of her throat; she put a hand over her nose and mouth. She would have to fly through that toxic air and she needed a moment to prepare herself.

Deciding at last on a jackdaw, she hastily changed her shape behind the yard wall, then picked up the bag in her beak. Olivia's house was on Dragon Street, only two blocks beyond Charlie's. If the Vertigos wouldn't let Alice into their house, Emma stood no chance, so she resolved on an alternative to the front door. Mrs. Vertigo had often complained about the mess that jackdaws made, dropping twigs down her chimney. Twice a jackdaw had been found flapping sootily around their living room.

As Emma winged her way above the rooftops, she could hear voices in the cloud of fog: hoarse whispers, distant laughter, and even the clink of weapons. She ducked her head and tilted down to Dragon Street.

Olivia's house stood back to back with Alice Angel's old home, and no one could fail to recognize the orchard that grew between them. White buds were already appearing on some of the plum trees.

Alighting on the Vertigos' chimney, Emma was surprised to find a jackdaw already in residence. Her eggs hadn't yet been laid, but a fine nest was already half built. She seemed more surprised than angry to see Emma perching at the edge of her home.

"Excuse me," Emma murmured and she dived through the tangle of twigs and straw before plummeting down the dusty chimney. She landed in the Vertigos' living room fireplace with the plastic bag still held in her beak. The remains of last night's fire were warm but luckily not alight.

After a few moments of feather riffling, Emma stepped out of the fireplace, a girl once more. It wasn't until she began to tiptoe up the stairs that she noticed her feet were leaving sooty marks on the carpet.
Can't be helped,
thought Emma.
Perhaps they'll blame the jackdaws!

There was a large linen closet in the hall, and Emma quickly crawled in, pulling the door shut behind her. Now she would have to wait.

Mr. and Mrs. Vertigo always slept late on Sunday mornings, so Olivia would be the first one up. Emma hoped she wouldn't need anything from the linen closet on her way to the bathroom.

Time passes slowly when you're waiting in the dark, in a rather uncomfortable position. Emma was just beginning to think that she couldn't bear it another minute, when she heard a door open. Someone walked past the closet and went to the bathroom. Emma heard the bathroom door close, but the lock didn't click. She crawled warily out of the closet and listened. Someone was taking a shower. It had to be Olivia.

Emma crept over to the bathroom door. She slowly turned the handle until it opened just wide enough for her to see a pile of clothes on a low chair. There was no sign of the vest. Perhaps it was under the pile? Or in Olivia's bedroom? Emma darted to the bedroom. She couldn't see the vest anywhere. Frantically she lifted the bedspread and the pillows. She looked under the bed, pulled out drawers, searched the closet. Nothing. Was Olivia wearing the vest in the shower?

Emma ran back to the bathroom. Olivia was now humming monotonously as she washed her hair. Seizing the pile of clothes, Emma turned it upside down. And there was the vest. As she pulled the new vest out of the bag, Emma's hand began to shake. She couldn't afford to stop now, even though she had no idea what might happen if Olivia discovered her precious vest had been switched. Grabbing the enchanted garment, she stuffed it into the bag, replaced it with the new one, and laid the clothes back on the chair.

"Is someone there?" Olivia called from behind the shower curtain. "Mom, is that you?"

Emma dropped to the floor behind the chair. Olivia peeped around the curtain. Her eyes were misted with soapy water and she failed to see the hunched figure behind the chair. When she went back to her showering, Emma crawled out of the bathroom and back into the linen closet, where she stuffed the bag behind some sheets. It was too late to go back and close the bathroom door. Olivia had turned off the shower.

Emma waited. Waited and waited. How long did it take a person to dry themselves and get dressed? There was a sudden long wait and then a thump. Emma ran back to the bathroom. Olivia, fully dressed, was lying on her back. Her eyes were open and her hands rested on her chest. She seemed to be finding it difficult to breathe. "Ah! Ah! Ahhh!" she moaned. Beneath her fingers the silver discs on the new vest were turning all the colors of the rainbow. They sparkled and crackled and sang, while Olivia cried, "Help me! Oh, help me! I'm dying."

Emma dropped to her knees beside her friend. "You're not dying, Liv," she said. "You're coming to life again." She took Olivia's hand and held it tight in both of her own. It wasn't easy to escape wickedness, she realized, and she couldn't imagine the pain that Olivia must be feeling. She began to thrash about, kicking her legs, flinging one arm out and banging the floor with her free hand while Emma still clung to the other.

"Whatever's going on?" Mrs. Vertigo ran into the bathroom and bent over her daughter. "Liv, what is it? What's the matter?"

Emma wondered how she could tell Mrs. Vertigo the truth. She was afraid the vest would be torn off Olivia before she had been healed. But Olivia suddenly became still. Her eyes closed and she appeared to be in a deep and peaceful sleep.

"Has she fainted?" Mrs. Vertigo asked Emma. "She's smiling. Emma, what's been going on?"

"I'm not sure, Mrs. Vertigo," Emma 'said a little guiltily. "But I think Liv's OK now."

Olivia opened her eyes. "Hi, Em," she said. "Wow! I feel weird."

"You fainted, darling," said Mrs. Vertigo. "I expect you got up too early."

"I expect I did," said Olivia. She sat up. "Silly me."

It was too much for Emma to behave as if nothing extraordinary had happened. She suddenly hugged her friend tight, crying, "Oh, Liv. I'm so glad you're better."

"Me, too," said Olivia, looking somewhat puzzled.

Nobody thought to ask how Emma had got into the house, and the sooty marks were put down to yet another chimney jackdaw. Soon Emma and the Vertigos were eating a hearty breakfast. When the doorbell rang, the girls continued their conversation about fashion while Mrs. Vertigo went to the front door in her white bathrobe.

When Mrs. Vertigo came back, she looked anxious. "There are three young men here," she told the girls. "Friends of yours."

Before she could go any further, Tancred Torsson poked his head around the door and said, "Hello, Em. I'm glad I found you. Charlie said you might be here."

Emma's cheeks turned pink as she gave Tancred a profoundly welcoming smile.

"I'm here, too," said Olivia. "In fact, I live here."

"And you look quite your old self to me," said Tancred. "I heard you'd been acting a bit peculiar."

Olivia frowned. "I was tricked," she said. "It won't happen again."

By now Lysander had pushed Tancred farther into the kitchen and walked in himself, followed by Gabriel Silk. At this moment Mr. Vertigo chose to come galloping down the stairs in jeans and what might have been a pink pajama top, but you couldn't always tell with him, as he was a famous film director.

There was now quite a crush in the Vertigos' kitchen, but they managed somehow to get everyone around the table, and luckily there was enough orange juice left for the three boys. Lysander waited until Mr. Vertigo had helped himself to a banana before explaining why they had arrived so early on a Sunday morning.

"It was Mr. Silk," he said, glancing at Gabriel. "You can imagine what it's like up in the Heights in this fog. We can hardly see an inch in front of our faces. Mr. Silk rang my dad and Tancred's, and he said... well, he said something odd, although it made sense to us, to me and Tancred anyway."

"Well, none of it makes sense to me yet." Mr. Vertigo knitted his brows. "Everyone seems to be leaving the city, which is a dumb thing to do, if you ask me."

"Something has happened, Mr. Vertigo," Lysander said earnestly. "I expect you've heard of Count Harken?"

Olivia's parents might have been in the movie business, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of the city's history. In fact, they knew a great deal about it and they had certainly heard of Count Harken the enchanter. They also knew that a day would arrive when their daughter's extraordinary talent would be needed for something more vital than scaring a fev^ misguided children.

"I imagine that he's got back somehow," said Mr. Vertigo, looking at the mist creeping through their garden.

"That's about it." Lysander was relieved to find that he wouldn't have to explain a rather complex situation. "The thing is, Gabriel's dad has advised us to walk up to the Heath."

"Why?" asked Olivia's father. Her mother was more interested in "Who?"

"Us." Lysander looked at Gabriel.

Taking his cue, Gabriel said, "Er, my family has always kept the Red King's cloak but just lately, my dad passed it on to someone else, a... er" -- he cleared his throat -- "a... um... knight. The knight has been protecting us, but now my dad says we must do something for ourselves. All of us" -- he glanced at Emma and Olivia -- "all of us children of the Red King. The knight needs our help to save the city."

"Who is this knight?" Mr. Vertigo demanded. "He could be leading you into a trap."

"I don't think so, sir," Gabriel said firmly.

Mr. Vertigo leaped up. "I'll get my jacket. We'll come with you. I can't allow the girls to go alone."

"They'll be with us, sir," said Tancred, "and we think it's best if you stay here." He allowed a slight breeze to blow across the table to emphasize his point. "We have talents. We can protect ourselves better than you can, if you don't mind my saying so. Mr. Yewbeam will be there, and Mrs. Kettle, and Alice Angel."

"Alice?" Mrs. Vertigo looked at her daughter.

"Alice Angel? Why didn't you say?" cried Olivia. "I'll be absolutely fine, Mom, if Alice is with me."

"If you say so." Mrs. Vertigo clasped her face in her hands. "And I suppose we must just sit here and wait?"

"That's about it, Mrs V," Tancred said cheerfully. "I think we'd better be off now, so if you two girls ..."

"Ready in a minute." Olivia pranced out of the room and up the stairs. She returned a few seconds later wearing a silver-gray bomber jacket, black boots, and a white faux fur hat with earflaps. "Ta-da! I'm ready!" she announced.

Emma smiled. It was so good to have the old Olivia back again.

With brief kisses for her parents, Olivia followed the others out into the fog. Their next stop would be at number nine Filbert Street.

Charlie was waiting for them in the open doorway. As soon as he saw the group arrive through the fog, he called up the stairs, and his uncle appeared, wearing his black fedora and long coat. He was carrying a stout walking stick that Charlie had never seen before.

Alice Angel came down the second flight, followed closely by Billy. When she reached the hall, Olivia caught sight of her and jumped up the steps, crying, "Alice! Alice! I'm so happy to see you!"

Alice gave her a hug. "I'm happy too, Olivia, dear."

Maisie and Cook came out of the kitchen, and Maisie said plaintively, "What are we going to do, Cook and me? Just wait and wonder? And what about Grandma Bone?"

"She won't give you any trouble," Alice told her. "We'll be back, dear Maisie. Please don't worry."

"I'll be with you." Cook took Maisie's arm. "We'll keep the balance together."

Maisie looked briefly reassured; nevertheless she watched anxiously from the door as the two groups met at the foot of the steps and then proceeded up Filbert Street together.

"Good luck!" called Maisie and Cook.

Seven children and two adults turned and waved to her.

They walked on in silence, an unusual state for some of them. Even Olivia had nothing to say, though she clung to Emma's hand. The gravity of the situation had finally struck home, and all of them were preoccupied with their own thoughts.

Halfway up High Street two figures loomed out of the fog. One very large and one small. Mrs. Kettle and Dagbert had been waiting for the others. As they drew closer, the sight of Mrs. Kettle's cheerful face and strong, broad shape brought a sudden babble of chatter from the group, and they increased their pace.

"Is Julia all right?" Uncle Paton asked Mrs. Kettle.

"Just fine," she replied. "Piminy Street's deserted. There's no one there to worry her now."

"That means they're all on the Heath," said Paton.

"It does indeed," Mrs. Kettle agreed. "But we can cope, can't we?" She pulled back her coat and patted her hip, and they all saw the bronze hilt of a great sword sheathed in a leather scabbard attached to her belt.

Charlie realized that, apart from Mrs. Kettle, none of them had a weapon of any kind. "Shouldn't we have one of those?" he asked, staring at her sword.

"You have your endowments, my dear," said Mrs. Kettle.

"They don't amount to much," Charlie muttered. He was thinking of himself. Traveling into pictures wasn't much use in a fight, nor were Gabriel's psychic powers. And what about Billy? Communicating with animals wouldn't help when there were no animals around.

"Listen, my dear," Mrs. Kettle said gravely. "You are children of the Red King. That's all you will need when the time comes. Isn't that so, Alice?"

Alice gave one of her enigmatic smiles. "Of course!"