Charlie Bone and the Red Knight

"We can't go back now," Fidelio said happily. "So you'd better let us join you."

The three adults accepted this, and Benjamin and Fidelio tagged on behind Charlie. He had to admit that he was glad to have his two best friends with him on what he guessed might be the longest day of his life. They were now a group of fourteen, if you counted Runner Bean.

On they went. Everyone had fallen silent again, but at their backs the Brankos were doing their worst. Chimneys toppled, signs fell from shop windows, doors caved in. Charlie tried to ignore the sounds. And then suddenly one of the lampposts just ahead fell to the sidewalk, its glass shattering into thousands of tiny shards. This was too much for Uncle Paton.

Leaping into the road, he glared at the Brankos before lifting his gaze to a

lighted window high in a building beside the telekinetic family. With a deafening explosion, the windowpane burst, showering the Brankos with glass.

Yelling and cursing, they retreated down the street.

"We'll get a bit of peace while they're licking their wounds," said Uncle Paton, resuming his steady march up High Street.

When they passed the square that led to Bloor's Academy, Charlie half expected Manfred and Mrs. Tilpin to come racing out. But no one appeared. A little later he became aware that two more people had joined their ranks.

Looking over his shoulder, Charlie was astonished to see Dr. Saltweather and Senor Alvaro.

"Dr. Saltweather, I didn't know... ," said Charlie.

Lysander, Gabriel, and Tancred turned and stared at the two teachers. Emma and Olivia just gaped.

"Let's go!" Dr. Saltweather commanded. "Don't stop for us."

Sehor Alvaro smiled at Charlie, saying, "Forward, Charlie Bone."

Their pupils ran to catch up with Paton, Mrs. Kettle, and Alice, who were all striding purposefully onward, though Billy had stopped for a moment to speak to Runner Bean.

The Heath lay on their left, just beyond Bloor's Academy. It was a wide stretch of tough grass and low, windblown shrubs, over a mile long. In the distance a line of rocks protruded from the earth like the spines of a great serpent. The fog made them appear almost to float above the ground. The whole place seemed to be deserted. There was no sign of the Red Knight. The group stood at the edge of the road, watching and waiting.

A warning growl rumbled in Runner Bean's throat and then they saw the dogs.

Two rottweilers were bearing down on them from the direction of the Heights.

They looked like the most bloodthirsty dogs Charlie had ever seen. He imagined their great teeth tearing into his flesh, into everyone who stood there too stunned to move. Behind the dogs came Dorcas Loom and her two large brothers.

"Go on, Brutus! Go on, Rhino! Get 'em!" urged the brothers.

Runner Bean snarled bravely, encircling his people protectively, but they all knew he didn't stand a chance against the rottweilers. For a moment, no one could think what to do. Mrs. Kettle had drawn her sword, and Tancred was already calling up a storm, but even as the rain began to fall, Billy Raven suddenly stepped forward, whining, barking, and howling at the two savage dogs.

The rottweilers stopped abruptly, dropped to their haunches, and began to whine back at Billy.

"What was he saying?" Dagbert whispered.

"Haven't a clue," said Charlie. "But it seems to be working."

The Looms were furiously egging on their dogs to attack, but all at once, the rottweilers turned and leaped at their owners, their strong teeth sinking into bone and sinew. With piercing screams, Dorcas collapsed and then her brothers fell to the ground, one on top of the other. The rottweilers paced around the three forms, growling dangerously. When they were satisfied that their victims no longer posed a threat to their new master, they trotted up to Billy and licked his hands.

"Well done!" said Billy, first in his own language and then in theirs.

"Yes, well done, Billy," said Uncle Paton, and the group echoed his words, cheering, "Well done, Billy! Well done!"

Billy grinned and patted the dogs' heads.

"Three down and two to go," Charlie said, almost to himself.

"You're thinking of Manfred and Joshua," said Tancred. "But don't forget Mrs.

Tilpin."

"And Eric. We can't forget him. Look!" Lysander pointed at the fog that swirled above the field. And they saw that the shapes they had taken for rocks were now moving forward. As they came closer, the floating forms solidified into what appeared to be huge, lumbering creatures.

"Eric!" said Charlie. "What do we do now?"

"Stop them," said Tancred.

There was a violent clap of thunder, and a bolt of lightning shot through the fog, cracking into the skull of one of the stone beasts. It made no difference. The creatures came on and now they could see a small figure prancing before the line of beasts, drawing them forward, animating them to such a degree that they were not lumbering but running, their great feet sending shock waves through the earth.

Tancred had taken off his jacket and was now whirling it above his head. His yellow hair sparkled as a gale force wind tore into the fog. It thinned and lifted, revealing something they would rather not have seen.

The fog had hidden a ghostly army of trolls and beings that could be only half human. Every one of them was armed. Spears, pikes, and axes glinted in the weak sunlight. Some swung clubs, others slingshots.

"Harken's mercenaries," Paton muttered, and from his walking stick he withdrew a slim rapier-like sword. As soon as the sword met the air, a flash of electricity spun from Paton's hand down the narrow length of steel. "That should work," he said with satisfaction. "Let's go."

"Why, Paton Yewbeam, you've grown another foot," Mrs. Kettle declared, stepping up beside him.

Indeed, Uncle Paton did appear to be something of a giant, a rather thin one, Charlie thought, but a giant nevertheless, with a weapon that could surely deal a death to anyone it touched.

Tancred's storm was now raging above the stone beasts and, although the creatures still advanced, they had slowed down considerably and the troll army was not finding it easy to move through the icy wind that howled into their faces.

The group formed a ragged line behind the two leaders, and Charlie saw a determined smile on some of the grim faces around him. They had begun to believe that they could win.

And then, from somewhere behind them, a rock came hurtling through the air.

With a moan of pain, Dagbert fell to the ground. The others appeared not to have noticed, but as Charlie dropped to his knees beside Dagbert, he saw a row of wild figures on the road—the Piminy Street gang. An old woman with red ringlets was brandishing her slingshot and cackling with glee. Others held clubs, knives, and even hammers.

Charlie didn't know what to do. If he alerted his friends, they would turn back and the troll army would fly at them. But it was already too late.

Olivia had seen the gang on the road. "Look!" she screamed. "We're caught."

As the group turned, the gang on the road rushed to meet them. But before Charlie could get to his feet, he was knocked aside by a heavy club and he fell face forward onto the stony turf.

21. THE BATTLE

When Charlie opened his eyes, he could hardly take in the scene around him.

He'd read descriptions of battles, but nothing came close to this. Everywhere he looked, a savage fight was taking place.

He saw Lysander's spirit ancestors surround a group of roaring trolls; he saw Olivia conjure up a monster army only to have it vaporized by a gleeful Mrs.

Tilpin. The witch was sending showers of ice from her long white fingers. He saw Gabriel fighting Joshua, and a huge bird sweeping down, seizing Joshua by his neck and carrying him off the field. Mr. Torsson had arrived, and together he and Tancred were raining bolts of lightning upon the stone beasts.

Charlie dragged himself through the screaming, grunting, roaring crowd. He had lost sight of Dagbert and then he saw a leopard crouching by a boy's body. Was it Dagbert? He saw another two leopards attacking the stone beasts, and then Runner Bean and the two rottweilers came flying past with Billy Raven close behind, barking out orders.

Mrs. Kettle was laying into everything that crossed her path. Her heavy sword struck at heads, legs, and bodies. Beside her, Benjamin, Fidelio, and Gabriel used their fists and their feet to help subdue her victims.

Charlie stood up. His legs were shaking uncontrollably and he felt useless without a weapon. A hideous being with one eye lumbered toward him, wielding an ax. Charlie backed into the crowd, waiting for the ax to fall. But a man with a white cloud of hair seized the fellow by the waist and swung him around. The one-eyed creature growled in fury and raised his ax again, only to have his hand severed by a blow from Sehor Alvaro's slim silver sword.

Charlie blinked. "Th—" he began, but the two masters had run back into the battle. Charlie looked around for a friend to help. But his friends were hidden in the tangled mass of the battle. There was a sharp tap on his shoulder and he turned to face Mrs. Tilpin. Or was it Mrs. Tilpin? For this woman's features were all askew and he could hardly bear to look at her.

"This is the end for you, Charlie Bone!" the witch shrilled. She dug her claws deep into his shoulder. Deeper and deeper. And when the pain stopped, Charlie thought he must be dead, only he wasn't too dead to see Alice Angel reach over him and send a shaft of pure white light into Mrs. Tilpin's dreadful eyes.

The witch covered her face with her hands and reeled back, shrieking. A second later she was lying very still on the ground, and Alice had moved on.

"Charlie!" The call came from Uncle Paton, who was striding through the crowd toward Charlie. His uncle's sparking sword appeared to stun everything it touched and in his wake his victims lay withering on the ground.

With a surge of hope, Charlie rushed toward his uncle, crying, "We're winning, Uncle P. We're winning."

The arrow came from nowhere. One moment his uncle's triumphant smile was there before him, the next it had gone, and Paton was lying at Charlie's feet with an arrow in his chest.

Charlie's scream rang out above the sounds of battle, on and on and on. The sound wouldn't stop, even when Charlie had closed his mouth and dropped beside his uncle's motionless body. But when the scream finally ended, a deathly silence fell across the field. And he sensed an eerie, soundless movement all about him. When he looked up, the trolls and beasts, the Piminy Street gang, and all the enchanter's mercenaries had retreated. Charlie was surrounded by his friends, or most of them. He couldn't see Fidelio or Mrs.

Kettle or Dagbert or Sehor Alvaro. And where was Gabriel?

"Have we won?" Charlie asked miserably, for how could they have won if his uncle was dead?

"Not yet, Charlie," said Lysander.

And then Charlie saw on the other side of the field a mounted knight in shining armor. He wore a green cloak, and the plume on his helmet swirled in the air like the fronds of poisonous green hemlock. His mount was a great black stallion that snorted a fiery breath and cleaved the air with hooves of white-hot iron.

The enchanter's army stood in a row behind him. But the stone creatures lay in motionless heaps between the two groups. Felled by whom? Charlie wondered.

Had the Torssons' lightning bolts pummeled them to pieces, or had Eric, their animator, finally been struck down?

"Come, Charlie!" Alice raised him to his feet.

"What's going to happen?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the prancing stallion and its green-swathed rider.

"We're finished, that's what," said Olivia.

Alice darted her a fierce look. "No."

But Olivia looked at the huddled shapes lying around the field.

The leopards were moving among the bodies, pawing and crying to them.

"Without Mrs. Kettle and Mr. Yewbeam... and without... without..." She choked on her words, and the great bird beside her rubbed its head against her sleeve.

"We must do our best," said Alice. "We cannot permit him to take the city so easily. We cannot allow him to carry us back to a life not worth living. We cannot."

"Never," said a determined-looking Dr. Saltweather.

"No!" Tancred and Lysander agreed, their faces stern and resolute.

But Charlie could see tears glistening in Alice's eyes, and he knew that she was not entirely certain of the outcome of the battle.

An awful laughed rolled across the grass: a victorious and deathly rumble.

The enchanter's voice boomed in their ears as though he were standing beside them.

"Go home!" he roared. "It's finished. The city is mine."

"No," Alice whispered.

"No," they whispered in unison, though they had all begun to wonder why they stood there waiting to die.

The enchanter kicked his horse, and the great beast came galloping toward them. They tried to hold the line, but Runner Bean and the rottweilers began to howl. They sank onto their bellies and wriggled away. And who could blame them?

On came the enchanter, his army moving after him. The group took a step back, then another.

"Why?" Charlie asked himself. Where were the bolts of lightning and the spirit ancestors? Why did the giant bird crouch beside her friend? Why wasn't Billy talking to the dogs? Why were the tears falling freely down Alice's cheeks?

They were paralyzed, Charlie realized. So we are lost.

All at once a brilliant shaft of light struck a path across the heath. The leopards leaped up, their ears pricked forward, and the black stallion reared as though the light was a lethal thread of wire before him.

The leopards bounded toward the source of light, and on a hill at the edge of the field Charlie saw the brilliant flash of a sword, held by a knight on a white horse. The leopards reached the horse as it began to gallop down the hill; the knight's red cloak flew out behind him and the leopards came leaping after it.

The enchanter turned his horse. Again came the chilling laugh. "At last!" he roared. "We'll put an end to this."

At the bottom of the hill the Red Knight reined in his mount. And now they confronted each other, the Red Knight and the Green, with a few hundred yards between them. They drew' their swords and began to advance.

Suddenly, Charlie found he was running, propelled by the worst fear he had ever known. He could hear his friends calling him back, but he couldn't stop.

He had to get between the two horses.

For he knew that the Red Knight was a man. He might have a magic cloak and an unbeatable sword, but he was not a magician, so how could he defeat a being whose very fingers were laced with deathly enchantments?

Charlie was too late. With a clash of steel the knights met in battle.

Charlie dropped to his knees and the leopards surrounded him, nudging his shoulders and purring into his ears. Did they know something that he didn't?

The fighting was fast and furious. Every trick, every bit of sorcery was dredged from the enchanter's mind and used against his adversary. His weapon was by turns red-hot and ice-cold. He rained spikes on the Red Knight's helmet and sharpened bolts onto his chain mail, while the black stallion snorted fire into the white mare's eyes.

The Red Knight was beginning to tire. His head fell forward and he swayed from side to side, lowering his sword. The Green Knight prepared to come in for the kill.

"No!" cried Charlie and again he ran. With all his strength he leaped for the stallion's harness, dragging at its head. The enchanter lifted his weapon.

"Cursed boy!" he roared. And then suddenly he gasped, as the Red Knight's unbeatable sword struck home, clean through the thick breastplate and into the Green Knight's heart.

The stallion reared and the enchanter rolled off its back. He hit the ground with a noise like the clash of giant cymbals, the sword still buried in his heart.

Charlie lay back in the grass. Above him the fog was rising and he could see blue sky and a brilliant sun. The ghostly army seemed to have vanished with the fog, and the Piminy Street gang were limping away; their heads were low and their gaudy costumes in rags. They looked so pathetic, Charlie felt almost sorry for them.

When he sat up he saw that his fallen friends were not fatally injured. Alice Angel was lifting his uncle's head. Fidelio had gotten to his feet. The leopards were moving around the injured, purring and nudging them back to life.

Lysander and Tancred came racing over to Charlie. "He's gone!" cried Lysander.

"Not a trace," said Tancred. "Truly dead!"

It was true. There was no sign of the enchanter, though the unbeatable sword lay where he had fallen, and a black stallion chomped the grass beside it.

"But the Red Knight!" said Charlie, standing up.

He lay on his back, only a few feet away. The white mare stood over his body.

Now and then she nuzzled the battered helmet, snorting encouragingly. Blood seeped through the chain mail on the knight's chest and arms. It trickled from beneath his helmet. Was he already dying when he made that fatal thrust into the enchanter's heart? Charlie ran over to him. "What should we do?" He looked at his friends.

"Better take off the helmet!" Lysander suggested.

Charlie was afraid. Suddenly he didn't want to know the identity of the Red Knight. The spell would be ended. And if the knight was dead? But I must know, he thought. He knelt in the grass and gently pulled off the helmet.

A familiar face smiled up at him.

Charlie couldn't speak. His astonishment, his joy was too great. He could feel the others gathering behind him, murmuring. "It can't be!" "Is it, really?" "Why didn't we know?"

"Dad!" Charlie breathed.

22. THE SEAT OF EVIL

The city had not been entirely deserted. Officer Singh and Officer Wood arrived at the field soon after the battle had ended. More police arrived.

Ambulances parked at the edge of the grass, and medical teams ran over to the injured.

Lyell Bone was lifted onto a stretcher and carried to an ambulance. Charlie was allowed to travel with him. Just before the doors were closed, Officer Singh approached Charlie and asked how he felt. "You've got a lot of nasty bruises, lad," he said. He looked intently at Charlie, as though he had a particular interest in him.

"I'm OK," said Charlie. "I'm just worried about my dad. And my mom, she ought to know what's happened."

"She does," said Officer Singh. "I've just given her a call."

Charlie was puzzled. "You know where she is? But how?"

"Ah," said the policeman. "She'll have to tell you that herself."

Charlie's mother was waiting for him at the hospital, and after she hugged him half to death they went to wait in the hallway while Lyell's wounds were dressed.

"I don't understand," Charlie kept repeating. "Where have you been? When I thought of you, I always saw a little boat far out on the sea. And then there were all those postcards with foreign stamps."

"Charlie, I'm so sorry." His mother hugged him again. "We hated doing this to you, but we had to make sure that the Bloors never guessed who the Red Knight was. We couldn't let them find out by hypnotism, clairvoyance, or any of their dreadful tricks."

"What difference would it have made?"

Amy Bone touched her son's bruised face and looked into his eyes. "They would have held you for ransom, Charlie.

They would have kidnapped you, imprisoned you, perhaps even threatened to torture you if Lyell didn't give up his quest. So they had to believe it was someone else wearing the red cloak and riding the white mare."

"I thought it was Bartholomew Bloor," said Charlie, "because he wears a blue winter coat and Gabriel saw his father give the cloak to a man in a dark-colored winter coat."

His mother smiled. "Ah, Mr. Silk knew the truth. He was the only one apart from Bartholomew."

"Why did he have to know?"

"Because he was on that boat, Charlie. There really was a boat called Greywing, and it was sailing up the Australian coast. Bartholomew had always wanted to go whale watching. He's a great sailor and was quite confident that he could survive Lord Grimwald's storms. He and his family are on their way back to the city right now."

"Phew!" It still didn't make sense to Charlie.

"Whenever I thought of you and Dad, I saw the boat. But why, if you weren't on it?"

Amy shook her head. "I'm sorry, Charlie. We had to make you believe that we were there in case you were hypnotized and Manfred got at the truth."

"I was hypnotized," said Charlie, frowning. "So someone must have gotten into my head and made me believe you were there on that boat. Hmmm. I wish I knew who it was."

His mother hesitated. She seemed to be in a dilemma, so Charlie kept his eyes on her face, determined to get an answer.

"It was Sehor Alvaro," she said at last. "He's very gifted in that way."

"I'll say." Charlie could hardly believe it.

A doctor approached them. His cheerful smile told them that Lyell wasn't in any danger. They were shown into a small room where Lyell was sitting up in bed. His head had been wrapped in a bandage, and one arm was in a sling.

Charlie wanted to hug him but he couldn't see how, so instead he kissed his father's cheek and clung to his free hand.

"Forgive me, Charlie!" Lyell's dark eyes glistened. "I don't deserve you."

"Mom told me everything," said Charlie shyly. He felt ashamed that he had doubted his father, who after all was a hero.

Lyell squeezed his hand. "You have every right to be angry with us."

Charlie vigorously shook his head. "The enchanter had to be killed, didn't he? So he'd never, ever try to take the city again."

"I so nearly didn't succeed. You saved my life, Charlie."

"Did I?" It hadn't occurred to Charlie until now.

"There are a few more things to do before the city is completely purged," his father said wryly.

"Bloor's Academy?" Charlie suggested.

Lyell gave a grim smile. "In a few days, I'll be myself, and we'll put everything to rights, you and I, won't we?"

"You bet," said Charlie.

Charlie and his mother stayed with the patient for another hour, and Charlie learned where his mother had been staying while her husband roamed the city as the Red Knight.

"Do you remember the Hundred Heads' dinner?" asked Amy.

How could Charlie forget? "It's when I found out about Mrs. Tilpin and the enchanter," he said.

"There was a man in a blue turban."

"Yes. He saw me and Billy hiding under the table, but he didn't give us away."

"His name is Mr. Singh," said Amy. "He's Officer Singh's father and he let me stay in his house in the south. I wanted to stay with you, Charlie, but it would have looked suspicious if Lyell and I parted when we had only just been reunited. Mr. Singh is, of course, a descendant of the Red King."

"Then so is Officer Singh!"

A nurse came in with a tray of pills, and Charlie and his mother said good-bye to Lyell, promising to return the next day. On their way out they caught sight of Miss Ingledew leaving another ward. She looked rather flustered.

Charlie ran up to Miss Ingledew, crying, "Where's my uncle? Have you seen him?" And then he remembered their disagreement and said hesitantly, "Or was it someone else you were visiting?"

Miss Ingledew smiled. "It was Paton," she said. "He's not badly injured. He said something about leopards helping, which I didn't really understand. But there's been a bit of trouble with the lights. They've had to move him twice, but of course the same thing happened every time."

Charlie tried to hide a grin behind his hand. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Luckily, no," said Miss Ingledew. "But there was an awful mess. Glass everywhere. He's been put in a little room by himself, just inside the door.

He'll be out tomorrow, to everyone's relief, I should imagine."

Charlie didn't wait to hear any more. Pushing through the swinging doors, he found his uncle's room and flung his arms around the long thin man, who was scratching at a bandage that poked out of the top of his pajamas.

"Blasted thing. Itches like mad," Paton complained when Charlie released his grip. "Hello, Charlie. Well done all around, I say. What a day, eh? We learned a few secrets at last. My word, your father's a dark horse."

Charlie kept nodding. When he thought his uncle had finally said all he wanted, he asked, "Have you and Miss Ingledew... ?"

"Made up our silly quarrel? Yes, we have. She was very kind. Blames herself, though it was all my fault, no doubt, rushing about the country, poking into family affairs." He gave a false sort of cough and added, "Being injured does wonders, when it comes to... er, relationships, you know. You look a bit the worse for wear yourself, Charlie." Paton gave another odd cough. "Ah, nurse is coming. Visitors out, Charlie. But before you go"—he grabbed Charlie's hand—"I want you to be the first to know..." His cheeks turned a healthy pink.

"Know what?" asked Charlie.

"Miss... er... Julia... uh..." Paton seemed to be having trouble with his throat today, though his wound was in his chest. Charlie waited patiently for the spasm to pass. "Yes. She... er... has agreed to marry me."

"WOW!" yelled Charlie. "That's outstanding!"

A nurse rushed toward him, calling, "Out, young man!"

By the time Charlie and his mother got home, a great deal had happened at number nine. Grandma Bone had left, for one thing.

"She's gone to live with her sisters," Maisie told them. "Though I don't know how long that will last."

Alice Angel was putting her old house to rights. She had decided to sell her shop in Steppingstones and come back to live in her old home.

On Sunday evening, people began to return to the city. They behaved as though they had just left for an ordinary weekend away. The pernicious fog that had covered their homes was considered a mere coincidence. No mention was made of the battle that had happened. It was an event that most people couldn't really take in. Everyone agreed that it was going to be a beautiful Easter.

Daffodils and irises were already blooming in gardens, and the avenues were filled with fragrant cherry blossoms. A curious optimism pervaded the streets.

The wild strangers that had invaded Piminy Street seemed to have vanished as mysteriously as they had arrived. Mrs. Kettle was now the only resident. She was sure that more congenial neighbors would arrive in time. Her great sword now hung back in its place on the wall of her blacksmith shop, and the blue boa once more roamed around the kettles—now you saw him, now you didn't.

Mrs. Kettle had offered Dagbert Endless a home, which he had joyfully accepted. He contemplated a long and happy life making beautiful iron objects. "Not necessarily weapons," he told Mrs. Kettle, "but maybe ceremonial swords and ornamental gates and stuff like that."

"And iron kettles?" asked Mrs. Kettle.

"Naturally," said Dagbert.

Not one student attempted to go back to Bloor's Academy on Monday. Word had spread that it was not a good place to be right now.

On Monday afternoon, Lyell Bone and Uncle Paton came home to Filbert Street.

Cook took Grandma Bone's room temporarily. There was much to do, for Lyell and Amy wanted to move into their old house, Diamond Corner, as soon as possible. But before this happened, there was one more mystery to clear up.

Maybelle's box.

The next evening, Lyell took Charlie and his uncle up to the cathedral, where Lyell was still the official organist. They walked along the wide aisle and around the choir stalls to the great organ, its long pipes reaching right up to the vaulted dome. And Charlie wondered where his father could possibly have hidden the pearl-inlaid box. Lyell gave a mischievous smile and lifted the cushioned top of the organist's seat. In a neat compartment just beneath sat the box.

"Well, I never," Uncle Paton exclaimed. "What a hiding place. Who would have guessed?" He lifted it out. "But without a key, how is it to be opened?"

"We could force the lock," Lyell suggested, "but the pattern would be destroyed in the process."

Charlie took the box from his uncle. He turned it over and studied the intricate patterns: tiny mother-of-pearl stars, birds, leaves, and flowers adorned the lid and the sides. He stared at the stars and found himself traveling very slowly, very gently into a candlelit room where a craftsman was pressing tiny pieces of mother-of-pearl into the back of the box.

The man turned and looked at Charlie, holding up his finger. And Charlie gasped, for it was his old friend Skarpo the sorcerer and on his finger sat a small pearl cat.

"Charlie!" His father was shaking his arm. "What is it? Where are you?"

Charlie blinked. Skarpo had gone. "His finger," Charlie gasped. "His finger."

Uncle Paton and his father stared at Charlie in concern.

"It was a cat!" Charlie looked at the back of the box. He saw leaves and flowers, birds and stars, but no cat. He brought the box up close to his face. And then he saw it. There was a cat. Its ears poked from behind a star, its tail ran beneath a flower. Charlie gently pressed the slim tail. And the lid of the box clicked open.

"Charlie! How extraordinary!" said Uncle Paton.

"How clever!" said Lyell.

Charlie kept his secret traveling to himself.

Inside the box was not one will but many, beginning with Septimus Bloor's.

He had left everything to Maybelle. There was also a will made by Maybelle when she feared her life was in danger. She had left her entire estate to her son, Daniel Raven. And then there was Daniel's will, leaving all he possessed to...

"His daughter, Ita?" said Lyell. "Who on earth was she? I thought Daniel left everything to his son, Hugh, who gave the box to Billy's father to prove that he would inherit the Bloor estate if Septimus's true will could be found."

"Which it has been," Paton agreed. "I want you both to come and look at something." He led them down to the front pew and they sat either side of him while he drew a folded paper from his pocket. "This is what I have discovered during my weeks of research," he said, flattening the paper on his knee.

Charlie and his father bent their heads over the paper. There was nothing to see but a vertical line of names, beginning with Daniel Raven's eldest child, Ita. Who, in 1899, had married a Simon Bone.

"Bone!" said Charlie and his father.

And there, beneath Ita and Simon, was the name of their son, Eamon, who had married a Clara Lyell. And beneath Clara and Eamon was the name of their son, Montague Bone, who had married Grizelda Yewbeam in 1961 and died the following year.

"My father," said Lyell slowly.

"Who left everything he owned to you," said Paton.

They sat a while longer in the quiet cathedral, trying to take in this momentous news.

"So Bloor's Academy belongs to you, Dad," said Charlie at last.

His father frowned. "I suppose it does. But how do we prove it?"

"Quite easily, I hope," said Uncle Paton. "I've made an appointment to see Judge Sage tomorrow morning."

The following day, Lyell Bone and Paton Yewbeam took the box of papers to Lysander's father, Judge Sage.

He was known as one of the wisest and most open-minded members of the judiciary, and it didn't take him long to declare that Lyell Bone was the indisputable heir to Septimus Bloor's fortune. He would have to take the matter to court, of course, but the judge thought Lyell stood an excellent chance of winning his case.

"We'll have to warn the present owners of Bloor's Academy," Uncle Paton wryly remarked.

Charlie wanted to accompany his father and uncle on their visit to the Bloors, but Lyell was reluctant to let him. "All the recent woes of this city have come from that family," Lyell said, laying a hand on his son's shoulder.

"It's the seat of evil, Charlie, and there's no knowing what they will do when they discover that Septimus's will has been found."

"Please!" begged Charlie. "I want to be there. After all, I was the one who opened the box."

Lyell laughed. "So you were. All right. You've won me over, Charlie, but please do everything I say."

Charlie made a solemn promise and in the late afternoon, before the streetlights had come on, Uncle Paton, Charlie, and his father made their way up to the academy. They were approaching the square when a black car drove out. It stopped a moment before turning onto High Street, and Charlie saw Weedon at the wheel. Beside him sat his wife, and in the back was the unmistakable figure of Norton Cross in his elephant jacket. Beside him was a hunched figure veiled in black. Charlie didn't see the fourth passenger until the car was driving away from them. A small white face looked out of the back window and then hastily bobbed out of sight.

"Joshua," muttered Charlie.

"And his mother, most likely," said Paton. "They're all leaving."

"Rats and a sinking ship come to mind," said Lyell drily.

Weedon hadn't even bothered to close the academy doors behind him. The three visitors stepped into the shadowy hall without bothering to knock.

And for the last time in his life, Charlie shivered in the cold wickedness that seemed to pervade the building. It was truly a seat of evil, and the prime cause of all that evil was sitting in his wheelchair, staring down at them from the landing at the top of the staircase. It was almost as if he had been waiting for them.

"I suppose you've come to gloat," he shouted. "But you haven't won yet.

You've finished off Count Harken, but I'm still here and I'm not budging."

"We have the will, Ezekiel," said Lyell. "The true will. It's all over for you."

"Never!" screeched the old man.

"I'm afraid, Ezekiel," said Uncle Paton, "you'll have to spend your last days in a nice home for the elderly."

"NO! I won't. I'm staying put!" Ezekiel began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Manfred's going to make sure of that. If you make another move, he's going to burn the place down, and you wouldn't want that, would you, now?"

At these words Manfred walked out of the shadow behind the stairs. He held his hands in the air, every finger blazing like a torch. "Don't come any closer," he warned. The awful power of his ancestor Borlath, the Red King's eldest son, had at last materialized in Manfred.

Lyell took a brave step toward Manfred.

"Dad, no!" cried Charlie, staring at the flames leaping from Manfred's fingers.

"Woooo!" shrilled Manfred, and the flames leaped higher. "Scaredy-cats!"

What happened next was so astounding, Charlie could hardly believe his eyes.

For old Ezekiel came flying down the stairs. The wheels of his chair hit the treads once, twice, and then he was in the air. Too shocked to move, Manfred could only stare at the airborne thing in horror. When it landed on him, he emitted a single high-pitched scream that would echo in Charlie's head for years to come.

Old Ezekiel rolled out of his chair, gave a long gurgle, and fell silent. The flames, smoldering on a hand that protruded from the tangled heap, spluttered and died.

The three visitors were momentarily too shocked to speak, and then Paton murmured, "How on earth?"

Charlie had seen the culprit, or rather their savior, depending on how you looked at it. A short, fat dog stood at the top of the stairs, wagging his meager tail. "Blessed!" cried Charlie. "Dog of the day!"

Paton brought out his cell phone and began to call for an ambulance. While he was doing this, Charlie noticed a solitary figure standing by the door to the west wing. Dr. Bloor moved toward the dreadful pile of wood and bones. It was difficult to read his expression, but he didn't touch either of the bodies.

"It was the dog," said Lyell. "He must have pushed the chair."

"I knew he would do that one day," Dr. Bloor said bleakly. He looked up at Blessed, still happily wagging his tail. "I gather you've found the will."

"We have," said Lyell.

Dr. Bloor gave a huge sigh. "I won't give you any trouble," he said. "There's no point now. I'll go and pack."

"Thank you," said Lyell.

The Easter holiday arrived and Paton Yewbeam and Julia Ingledew were married in a small church at the edge of the city. It was packed to the door; there were even people singing outside under the cherry blossoms. After the ceremony the newly-weds went to live in candlelit harmony above the bookstore. Emma was very happy with the new arrangements.

Billy Raven was unaware that he had almost been the heir to the Bloor fortune. While Charlie and his parents were packing up their belongings in number nine, Billy stayed with Benjamin. But after a few days of being chased around the house by Runner Bean, Rembrandt said that he couldn't stand another day in the place. So Billy went up to the Silks' home in the Heights.

He enjoyed talking to the Silks' many pets, but Gabriel's sisters kept complaining that they needed more room, even though Mr. and Mrs. Onimous had moved back to the Pets' Cafe. Fidelio Gunn's house was Billy's next temporary home. The Gunns were such a large family, they decided that one more child would hardly make any difference and they asked the social services to start drawing up some adoption papers.

It was difficult to tell if Billy was happy with this arrangement. He smiled at the appropriate time and nodded his head when he was required to. But was he happy? He had taken to visiting the cathedral when Lyell Bone was practicing the organ. He would sit himself in a pew behind one of the great pillars, close his eyes, and listen. But his presence didn't go unnoticed.

One day Lyell called to Billy and asked if he would like to learn how to play the organ.

Billy crept shyly out of his hiding place and approached the great organ.

Lyell helped him to place his fingers in the right places, and Billy was thrilled by the sound that came from the tall pipes. After the lesson they walked out of the cathedral together. It had begun to rain. It was only a light spring shower but enough to make them stop in the porch for a while.

As they watched the rain bouncing on the shiny cobblestones, Lyell put a hand on Billy's shoulder and said, "Would you like to come and live with us?"

Billy frowned. He took off his new glasses and rubbed the lenses with his thumb. "How long for?" he asked.

Lyell smiled. "Forever."

Billy replaced his glasses and stared straight ahead. He could hardly believe what he had heard. He felt breathless, his throat closed up, and he wondered if he was going to die.

Worried by Billy's silence, Lyell said, "I would do my best to be a good father."

In a small, choked voice, Billy asked, "What about Charlie?"

"It was his idea," said Lyell. "And Amy and I thought, well, we thought we'd really like another son." Lyell peered down at Billy's rigid face. "So how about it?"

Billy couldn't believe it. The kindest, bravest man in all the world had just offered him life with a family he loved. Speechless, he clasped his arms around Lyell's waist and clung to him.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Lyell.

"There's just one thing," said Billy in a whisper, and he reached into his pocket. He felt that his life depended on Lyell's answer. "What about my rat?"

Lyell took the proffered glossy black creature into his hands. "I'm particularly fond of rats," he said. "Welcome, Rembrandt."

"Many thanks," squeaked Rembrandt.

A week after the Easter holidays, Bloor's Academy opened under new management. It also had a new name. The Bone Academy. Dr. Saltweather's appointment as headmaster proved to be very popular, and Sehor Alvaro replaced him as Head of Music. A few of the staff left—old Mr. Paltry and Mr.

Pope among them. They were considered no great loss. Cook moved back into her old apartment beneath the kitchen, but this time she said her closet door would always be open to children in need of cocoa and sympathy. Blessed spent most of his days lying beside her stove, and Dr. Saltweather visited her often.

Cook brought her friend, Maisie Jones, back to the academy with her. Maisie spent her weekends with her family, of course, but every weekday she was queen of the green cafeteria in place of grumpy Bertha Weedon. It took only a few days of the new regime for every student to declare that the Bone Academy was the best and happiest school for miles.

* * *

Today the city is a very different place. It has a permanently springlike atmosphere. The three number thirteens in Darkly Wynd are deserted. No one knows where the four sisters and Eric have gone. The Loom family have left the city, and the Brankos' shop and cafe lie empty. Not so the Pets' Cafe. It reopened with a grand party. So many animals attended, there was scarcely any room for their owners. Gabriel arrived with enough gerbils for everyone, even Dagbert. Lysander came with his parrot, Homer, plus his girlfriend, Lauren, and her parrot, Cassandra.

The three Flames watched the proceedings from the counter. No one dared to suggest they should move.

Charlie and his friends had managed to grab their favorite place beside the window. Altogether there were twelve pets and eleven children. Mrs. Onimous had outdone herself; six plates piled high with delicious pet food and assorted cakes sat in the middle of the table.

After too much food, Rembrandt fell asleep and slipped off Billy's lap. Billy quickly ducked under the table to rescue him from Runner Bean. When Billy came up again, his eyes were very wide and he had a big grin on his face.

Leaning close to Charlie, he whispered, "Tancred and Emma are holding hands."

Jenny Nimmo

I was born in Windsor, Berkshire, England, and educated at boarding schools in Kent and Surrey from the age of six until I was sixteen, when I ran away from school to become a drama student/assistant stage manager with Theater South East. I graduated and acted in repertory theater in various towns and cities.

I left Britain to teach English to three Italian boys in Amalfi, Italy. On my return, I joined the BBC, first as a picture researcher, then assistant floor

manager, studio manager (news), and finally director/adaptor with Jackanory (a BBC storytelling program for children). I left the BBC to marry Welsh artist David Wynn-Millward and went to live in Wales in my husband's family home. We live in a very old converted water mill, and the river is constantly threatening to break in, which it has done several times in the past, most dramatically on my youngest child's first birthday. During the summer, we run a residential school of art, and I have to move my office, put down tools (typewriter and pencils), and don an apron and cook! We have three grown-up children, Myfanwy, Ianto, and Gwenhwyfar.

Also by JENNY NIMMO

OTHER BOOKS IN THE CHILDREN OF THE RED KING SERIES

Midnight for Charlie Bone

Charlie Bone and the Time Twister

Charlie Bone and the Invisible Boy

Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors

Charlie Bone and the Hidden King

Charlie Bone and the Beast

Charlie Bone and the Shadow

THE MAGICIAN TRILOGY

The Snow Spider

Emlyn's Moon

The Chestnut Soldier

Griffin's Castle

The Dragon's Child