Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors (7 page)

"Never heard of it," said Uncle Paton. "Charlie, have you seen these de Grey people?"

"Yes, I've seen them," said Charlie, "and I've, er, you know — heard their voices. Mr. de Grey said he didn't like children. So, obviously he didn't want to adopt Billy"

"Is he with the de Greys now?" asked Miss Ingledew

"They came to get him today" said Charlie. "But he's coming to my place on Sunday so we can go to the Pets' Café together. I'll tell him about Mr. Crowquill, shall I, Uncle P?"

No." Uncle Paton held up his hand. "Not yet, Charlie. I shall have to give this meeting a great deal of thought. For now, it would be best if Billy didn't know about his guardian. If he inadvertently let the cat out of the bag, Mr. C. Crowquill would be in grave danger once again."

"OK. I won't tell him yet. The de Greys might not be very good parents, but at least Billy has got out of Bloor's Academy"

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire, if you ask me," said Emma gravely

* * *

On Sunday morning, while Charlie waited for Billy to arrive, Grandma Bone came downstairs wearing her Sunday best: a hat made of black feathers, a voluminous charcoal-gray coat, and a stole in the form of two dead minks. The minks' tails hung down her back, while their heads met each other under her chin. The animals' reproachful glass eyes always gave Charlie the shivers, and he tried not to look at them when he met his grandmother in the hall.

"Grandma, do you . . . ?" Charlie began.

"Out of my way," she barked. "Eustacia's picking me up."

Sure enough, there was a horrible squeal of brakes as Aunt Eustacia's car hit the curb outside number nine Filbert Street.

"I just wanted to ask if you knew where my friend Billy Raven is living now?" Charlie persisted.

"Of course, I know," snapped Grandma Bone. "But I'm not telling you." She pushed Charlie out of the way opened the front door, and slammed it shut behind her.

A few seconds later, Charlie heard the familiar screech of tires and a loud thump as Eustacia backed into a lamppost. There was a muffled shriek from Grandma Bone, and the car sped off.

Charlie slouched back into the kitchen muttering, "Old bat. She won't tell me where Billy lives."

"Don't worry, Charlie," said Maisie. "I expect your little friend is having a nice lunch with his new parents. He’ll turn up later."

"I suppose," said Charlie.

Almost every Sunday afternoon, Charlie and his friends met at the Pets' Café. Today Charlie waited for Billy until four o'clock, and then he left the house by himself When he reached Frog Street, he could hear the noise from the café echoing down the narrow alley: barking, howling, yelping, twittering, and squawking.

The café stood beneath the rocks of a huge, ancient wall; in fact, the place was built right into the rock and looked as if it had been part of the wall for hundreds of years. The words "
PETS' CAFE
" had been painted above a large window, and to emphasize that this was strictly a café for animals accompanied by humans, pictures of tails, paws, whiskers, wings, and claws decorated each letter of the sign.

Charlie walked through a green door and came face-to-face with a large man wearing a T-shirt decorated with parrots.

“Ah, Charlie Bone," said Norton, the bouncer. "About time, too. Your friends have almost given up on you, and as for your dog, he's going berserk."

"Got held up," said Charlie. “And Runner's not my dog."

"He is while that friend of yours is in Hong Kong."

There was a joyful bark from behind the counter, and a large yellow dog rushed at Charlie, almost knocking him to the floor.

"Hi, Runner!" Charlie gave the dog a hug and looked for his friends. Emma and Gabriel sat at a corner table, sharing a plate of cookies. They were both drinking glasses of a bright pink liquid, and three of Gabriel's gerbils were lapping up the spillage.

"Cherry Blossom Cordial," Gabriel explained as Charlie led Runner Bean up to the table. "Gerbils love it!"

"I'll say," Charlie observed as he sat between his friends. "One's keeled right over."

"Oops, so it has." Gabriel scooped up the prostrate gerbil and put it in his pocket. "It'll recover," he said confidently "It's Mrs. Onimous' new recipe. Powerful stuff. Want a sip?"

"No, thanks, but I'll have a cookie." Charlie took two cookies, one for himself and one for Runner Bean.

The big clog crunched it gratefully and then laid his chin in Charlie's lap, hoping for more.

"Where are the others?" Charlie asked, feeding Runner Bean another cookie.

"Tanc and Sander couldn't wait," said Emma. "You took ages, Charlie. I thought you were bringing Billy"

"He never showed. What about Olivia? Have you seen her? Did she get the part?"

Emma shrugged. "I phoned her house twice but no one answered. She promised to meet me here but — I don't know, something must have come up."

"Maybe by now she's a star and won't talk to the likes of us," said Gabriel.

"Not Livvy." Emma shook her head. "She's not like that. She'll show up."

But Olivia never appeared. Nor did Billy Eventually the three friends got tired of waiting. Emma and Gabriel went home and Charlie took Runner Bean for a walk. The boy and the dog were just approaching Frog Street after a good half-hour jog when Runner Bean gave a loud bark and tugged his leash.

On the other side of the road, Charlie saw Olivia darting into an alley She threw Charlie a quick, furtive glance and then disappeared. Curious about her strange behavior, Charlie ran across the road. By the time he reached the alley Olivia had disappeared, but Runner Bean tugged Charlie down the alley across a cobblestoned square, and then into an area of small shops.

In the distance, a girl in a white T-shirt and black jeans looked back at Charlie and began to run again. But she was no match for the dog. Pulling his leash out of Charlie's hand, Runner Bean raced up the street and soon caught up with Olivia. Leaping up at her, he began to bark excitedly

"Get off! Go away!" shouted the girl.

"Hold on, Liv," cried Charlie. "It's only Runner. What's the matter with you?"

Olivia slumped against the wall while Charlie ran up and grabbed the dog's collar. "He wouldn't hurt you, Liv He was just pleased to see you." Charlie stopped. "What is it? You look awful."

"Thanks very much!" Olivia grimaced.

"I don't mean “Awful,' 1 just mean . . . different," said Charlie quickly.

Olivia's face was streaked with tears, her eyelids were swollen, and her hair was a mess. She was wearing sneakers, and her T-shirt looked crumpled. Gone were the bright colors and wild clothes that she usually wore. Charlie had never seen his friend look so normal and yet so distressed. He felt he should ask about the audition; it would be worse to avoid such an important question.

"Did you get the part?"

Olivia's lips formed a tight line. She kicked the ground with the toe of her shoe and, through gritted teeth, replied, "No!"

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry." This seemed inadequate, but what else could Charlie say?

"Don't be," Olivia said furiously "I don't want people to feel sorry for me."

"OK. But what happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

Olivia thought for a moment and then decided that she very much wanted to talk. She wanted to talk and talk until the whole shameful, humiliating experience was out in the open, being shared by at least one other human being — and a dog.

The day had begun well. Olivia had ended up on the list of finalists with five other girls. "They were all smaller than me," she said with a frown, "but Mom said that didn't mean anything. There was this girl sitting next to me; she had pigtails and freckles and a silly high voice. She was thirteen, Charlie, but she was TINY." Olivia's frown deepened. "She kept saying that I was bound to get the part because my mom is famous."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Charlie remarked.

"No, but I was too confident to realize that. I went into that room and did my monologue — acted my socks off I was really good, I KNOW I was. And I was so sure I'd got the part. There were four of them sitting at the table, two men and two women. They didn't even take notes. And when I finished, the director, a friend of Dad's actually, smiled at me and said, “Thank you, Olivia. That was very good, but not quite what we're looking for.'" A tear made its way down Olivia's cheek. "Pigtails got the part," she said grimly.

"No!" exclaimed Charlie. "I don't believe it."

"The worst of it is that I took it out on Mom. We had a terrible fight and I said it was all her fault. Now she's more upset than me. I said I was meeting you guys at the Pets' Café, but I couldn't face telling everyone. I thought I'd buy Mom some flowers to make up, and someone told me there was a flower store open, somewhere down here."

"It's right there!" Charlie nodded across the street. It was so distinctive, he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. The door and window frame were deep green, and the words above the window were printed in curling gold letters:
ANGEL FLOWERS
.

"They're all white!" Olivia observed, her grim expression beginning to soften.

It was true. Every flower in the window was white: lilies, roses, daisies, and strange plants that Charlie had never set eves on before.

"Let's see if the store's open." Charlie stepped off the pavement but Olivia hung back.

"Come on." Charlie grabbed her hand. Runner Bean was already dragging him across the street, and eventually the straggling three made it over to the flower store.

Peering between the white blooms in the window, Charlie said, "It's open. I can see someone." He approached the door.

"No," said Olivia. "I've changed my mind."

"Why?"

"I don't want to go in there." She stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on a bunch of lilies.

"Come on. Just one lily," said Charlie. "It won't cost much."

"How do you know?" Olivia demanded.

Charlie couldn't understand her sudden reluctance to enter the store. "I don't know, but I can lend you some money if it's too expensive. In fact, I'll buy it for you." He tried the door. It opened into a store filled with the scent of flowers.

"Mmm!" Charlie sniffed the air. "It's fantastic."

"Isn't it!" said a voice.

A woman had appeared at the back of the store. Runner Bean ran up to her, his tail wagging wildly

"What a lovely dog." She rubbed Runner Bean's ears, and he sat down, grunting with pleasure.

"We'd like some, er, lilies, I think," said Charlie.

"We?" said the woman. She had white hair and large green eyes.

"Yes, we. My friend wants some for her mom." Charlie looked behind him and saw Olivia slowly entering the shop.

“Ah, there you are," said the woman, "I'm so glad you've come at last."

"What do you mean?" Olivia froze. "I don’t know you."

"But I know you," said the woman. "I'm Alice Angel." She held out her hand. "And you are Olivia."

Olivia still didn't move, so Charlie shook Alice Angel's hand. "Come on, Liv It's OK." He looked back at Olivia, who was now wearing a dark scowl.

Alice Angel smiled. "There's no hurry How many lilies would you like?"

Olivia wouldn't even open her mouth.

"How much are they?" asked Charlie.

Alice didn't reply. She placed a thoughtful finger on her chin and said, "Ten would be nice. One for each of the king's children. Though some don't deserve the thought. Yes, ten with a few sprigs of green." Her eyes were as green as the flowers' stalks. And how did she know about the king and his ten children?

"How much are they?" Charlie said anxiously

"They're free," said Alice, skillfully arranging the lilies on her counter. She wrapped them in silver tissue and tied the bouquet with a white satin ribbon. "There!" she held out the flowers.

Charlie took the bouquet. “Are you sure they're free?"

"Absolutely." Alice looked across to Olivia. "You will come again soon, won't you? We have so much to discover together."

Olivia turned and quickly left the store.

Charlie had begun to feel very uneasy There was something odd about Alice Angel. Her name, for a start, and her hair was the same shade of white as the lilies. He said, "Thanks very much for the flowers, Mrs. — Ms. Angel. I'm sorry my friend isn't . . . well, she's had a bit of a shock. She's not normally like this."

"I know/ Would you like some apples? I grow them myself and they're very good." Alice smiled encouragingly

"No, thanks," said Charlie a little suspiciously "Mom works at a market."

"Of course," said Alice. "Good-bye, Charlie."

"Good-bye." Charlie walked out with Runner Bean at his heels. It was only when he was outside the store that he realized Alice Angel had used his name.

"How did she know my name?" he asked in a puzzled tone.

"How did she know mine?" Olivia took the flowers from Charlie. She looked both shocked and confused. "That woman can see right inside me," she said, almost in a whisper. "She knows things about me that I don't even know myself."

THE BOOK OF AMADIS

Charlie took Runner Bean back to the Pets' Café, he asked the Onimouses if they knew of a shop called "Angel Flowers."

"Rings a bell," said Mr. Onimous. "It's one of those places that comes and goes, if you know what I mean."

Charlie didn't know

"There's more going on in this town than anyone would believe," said Mrs. Onimous.

"Oh, I'd believe anything now," said Charlie. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that Runner Bean was a thousand-year-old fairy."

This made Mr. Onimous laugh so much he went bright red in the face and had to sit down very quickly on the floor.

Charlie gave Runner Bean a parting hug, said goodbye to the Onimouses, and hurried home. It was now six o'clock and his mother would be getting anxious.

"Where have you been?" cried Charlie's mother, Amy Bone, as he walked into the kitchen.

"We phoned the Gunns but Fidelio said he hadn't seen you," added his grandmother Maisie.

Charlie told them about his visit to the flower store. "That Alice Angel knows me, Mom, but how? Have either of you been to Angel Flowers?"

"I've never heard of it," said Maisie.

"Nor me," echoed Amy "Oh, Charlie, I wish you wouldn't go wandering into strange parts of town by yourself."

"I was with Runner, and anyway Olivia was there, so I wasn't alone."

"But still." Amy sighed. "I can't help worrying, Charlie. If only your father was . . . There are people out there who don't wish you well. If you were to.. disappear like Lyell, I don't know what I'd do."

"I won't disappear, Mom. My father wasn't endowed. But I am!”

“Exactly," Amy said softly. "Come and have your tea."

Charlie sat down, feeling guilty and Maisie poured him a cup of tea. "We can't help worrying," she said. "Your great-aunt Venetia was here."

"Venetia!" Charlie's knife clattered onto his plate. "Did Grandma Bone let her in?"

"Nope. She must have a key. I opened the kitchen door, and there she was, standing in the hall. She looked dreadful, hair all over the place, clothes a mess. She used to be so put together. I think she's losing her mind. That fire in her house has driven her over the edge."

"She was carrying an armful of clothes," said Charlie's mother. "Wanted to know if we'd like them."

“As if!" snorted Maisie. "She'd probably poisoned them."

"We told her to leave, and then I locked all the bedroom doors just in case. Here's your key, Charlie." Amy Bone pushed a key across the table. "Lock your door when you go to school tomorrow, and give Maisie the key."

Charlie groaned. As if there weren't enough to remember, now they all had to lock their doors.

"It can't be helped," said Maisie. "We don't want to end up with poison in our pants or snakes up our sleeves, do we?"

When snack time was over, Charlie sat back to watch his favorite TV show.
The
Barkers,
a story about dog people. Against Grandma Bone's wishes, Maisie had insisted on having a small TV on top of the kitchen cupboard. She didn't want to miss her soaps, she told Grandma Bone, and if she were to spend all her time slaving away in the kitchen, she could at least be permitted a little enjoyment while she did it. Unless, of course, certain people would like to do a bit of slaving themselves.

Grandma Bone was horrified at the thought of slaving and gave in.

Charlie's show had just begun when Uncle Paton looked in and said, "I've got it!"

Got what?” asked Charlie, hoping the gleam in his uncle's eye didn't mean that one of the aunts had given him a nasty disease.

"The Castle of Mirrors, dear boy," said Uncle Paton. "Come upstairs and I'll show you."

"But my show's just started," said Charlie, wriggling uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh, well, if TV takes precedence — so be it!" Uncle Paton backed out, slamming the door behind him.

Charlie watched
The
Barkers
for another five minutes, but he couldn't concentrate. Nothing was funny today. Maisie and his mother were giggling over a magazine article. It was horribly distracting. Charlie gave an audible sigh, turned off the TV, and left the kitchen. He ran upstairs and tapped on his uncle's door.

"What?" called Paton.

"You said you've got something to show me — about the Castle of Mirrors."

"Did I? Then you'd better come in," said Paton a little grudgingly

Charlie went in. His uncle's room was in its usual state of chaos. Books on the floor, papers on the bed, and shelves bending under the weight of manuscripts and encyclopedias. Paton sat at his desk. He was wearing his half-moon glasses and reading one of the oldest-looking books Charlie had ever seen. The pages were a dark mustard color and their edges rough and curling. The leather cover was soft and worn and could hardly restrain the coarse paper that appeared to spill out of it.

"Clever Julia found this among her treasures. She has an astounding memory, and when you mentioned a castle of mirrors, she knew she had seen the name before." Uncle Paton gingerly closed the book, and Charlie read the title,
The
Book
of Amadis,
printed in laded gold on the cover.

"Amadis?" said Charlie.

"The Red King's second son." Paton tapped the ancient book. "This tells it all. Amadis was forced to flee his father's castle when Borlath, the eldest, set out on his deadly pursuit of power. He destroyed everyone who got in his way, and in this he was helped by four of his siblings. The other five, including Amadis, tried to prevent the terrible slaughter that was going on in the surrounding countryside. But Borlath and his followers were strong, and eventually the more honorable siblings fled the castle in fear for their lives."

"And is Amadis Billy's ancestor?" asked Charlie.

"It would seem so."

"Then who is our ancestor? The one who began the Yewbeams. Was he good or evil?"

"From what I can find out, she was Amoret, Amadis' favorite sister."

“A girl?" Charlie hadn't even considered this.

"Yes, Charlie, a girl." Paton opened the ancient book again. "She fled with Amadis, but traveling north they became separated. Amoret was lost and Amadis sailed to an island in the northwest. He was well loved, and many who lived on the king's estates left their homes and followed Amadis rather than suffer Borlath's murderous tyranny . . .."

Charlie broke in, "But Amoret? You said she was lost. Don't you know what happened to her? Doesn't anyone? I mean, could I find out . . . maybe on the Internet?"

Paton gave a sigh of impatience. "You wouldn't find Amoret in your computer, Charlie. Her history is too secret for that. No one knows the whole truth. It is we who must uncover it. And that's what I've been trying to do for the past twenty years." He swept out an arm, indicating the shelves of books and worn papers. "When I met Julia Ingledew, it was like finding a treasure — someone else who was fascinated by the past, who thought nothing of spending a whole week pursuing one tiny, elusive fact in order to complete a puzzle. To me such a person is a jewel, Charlie, even if she were not the most congenial and lovely person I have ever met."

Charlie had never heard his uncle speak so passionately "Are you going to marry her?" he asked.

Paton blinked and then said quietly "I dare not even think about that."

"Why not? It seems like a good idea to me," he said bluntly

Uncle Paton gave a delicate cough. "Our subject was the Castle of Mirrors, not the future of Paton Yewbeam," he said in a flat tone. "Are you interested in this book or not?"

"You bet," said Charlie earnestly "Could I sit down, please? It's been kind of a long day"

"Help yourself." Paton motioned his head, and Charlie, having pushed several books aside, made himself comfortable on Paton's large, untidy bed.

Paton swiveled his worn leather chair around to face Charlie and began to read. As evening drew in and an early moon appeared in the darkening sky, Charlie was swept away by the story of Prince Amadis and the Castle of Shining Glass. The clutter of his great-uncle's room faded and, through half-closed eyes, he began to see a castle rising in the center of a blue island set in a glittering sea.

"They said it was the fairest castle in the world." Uncle Paton was the perfect storyteller. He made the written words his own, and his deep, melodious voice filled the room with bright images: splendid knights, horses, golden cups, shining swords and shields, (lying pennants, the raging surf — and fire.

"When Amadis and his followers had built their fine castle, there followed fifteen years of peace. The land was fertile and they prospered. The prince married one of his followers and they had four children. The youngest was called Owain."

“And the other three?" Charlie asked, tentatively.

"Not relevant," said his uncle. He proceeded to explain why those three poor children had no part in the story

"It was inevitable that Borlath should hear of the island castle and want it for himself With a thousand savage mercenaries, he crossed the sea and surrounded the castle, demanding that Amadis give it up."

"And Amadis refused?" Charlie threw in.

"Of course. He knew that if he surrendered the castle, his family would be slaughtered. But it was a heartbreaking decision to have to make. Amadis was well aware of Borlath's terrible talent."

Charlie leaned forward eagerly. "That's what I was going to ask, Uncle P. All the Red King's children were endowed, right? So what could Amadis do? And what about Borlath?"

"Amadis knew the language of birds and beasts. He could talk to any creature in the world, but this didn't count for much when he had to defend his people against Borlath."

Charlie waited expectantly, until at last his uncle told him, "Borlath had fire. When he put his mind to it, he could burn anything in his way. But he didn't want to destroy such a fine building; he wanted it for himself, so he laid siege to the castle. That didn't mean that he sat around waiting for Amadis to surrender. Oh, no! First, Borlath's army tried to scale the walls. The archers on the battlements soon put a stop to that. Then the mercenaries tried to force the great oak door with a battering ram. But a cloud of bats swooped down and all but blinded them. At the end of the tenth week, Amadis and a hundred men left the castle in the dead of night and attacked Borlath's sleeping army. Surprise gave Amadis an advantage, but eventually his small force was overcome by Borlath's bloodthirsty warriors, experts in killing who relished every severed head and limb."

Charlie shuddered. "So was Amadis killed?"

"He was fatally wounded," Uncle Paton replied. “A spear in his shoulder." He referred to the book and added, "Most of his men were killed, but the few who survived managed to get the prince back to the castle and he lived — until the end.

"Perhaps, in his heart, Amadis had always known that Borlath would find him one day. So within the castle, he had stored a huge supply of grain and provisions. They also had a very deep well. When the stores began to get low, Amadis talked to the animals." Paton smiled to himself. "An army of rats invaded Borlath’s stores. Wolves attacked the sentries, birds pecked holes in the tents, and at night the bats came again, screeching out of the sky and making sleep impossible. The lives of Borlath's soldiers became intolerable. The weather was turning cold. It began to rain. The army had had enough. They wanted to go home."

“And that's when Borlath used fire, isn't it?" said Charlie.

Paton nodded. He looked down at the book. “At the base of the castle, there was an outer and inner wall of thick wooden stakes. But within the wood and rising above it was a wall of yellow stone. In a gesture of fury and contempt, Borlath raised his fists and called for fire. The wooden stakes burst into flame. Those inside the castle were immediately engulfed in a ring of fire. Some threw themselves from the battlements. Others were overwhelmed before they could climb that far. Every man, woman, and child, every creature within the castle perished — except one."

"Who?" exclaimed Charlie, jolted out of the dreadful world of flames that his uncle had conjured up. "I mean, how could anyone . . . ?"

"Wait!" his uncle commanded. Charlie fell silent.

"The intense heat of those burning stakes caused the stones to vitrify; in other words, the walls turned to glass, a thick, black glass." Paton's dark eyes took on an animated gleam. "Now, this is the really interesting part, Charlie. I believe it might hold a clue to the other side of your family." Paton turned a page. "During his travels, Amadis had made friends with a Welsh magician, a man called Mathonwy. This magician lived on the mainland far south of the prince's island. But the blaze that Borlath created was so fierce, it lit up the sky for miles around. Clouds turned to lire, birds became black, and the bloodred sea boiled like a cauldron.

From far away Mathonwy saw the conflagration. He guessed what had happened. Was it too late to save his friend, Prince Amadis? Mathonwy did the only thing he could. He caused a snowfall. A blanket of snow swept toward the burning castle. When it reached the island, the snow fell, and where it touched the scorched walls, a strange thing happened. The vitrified stones began to shine."

"A castle of shining glass," breathed Charlie. "But, Uncle P, what's the connection to my family?"

"Mathonwy," said Paton brusquely. "Remember the name on the family tree that Maisie gave you? Your Welsh ancestor?"

"Oh," said Charlie slowly "But the date is wrong."

"The name is enough. The Welsh used their ancestors' names over and over."

"Oh," Charlie said again, and thinking of his Welsh ancestor, he remembered the wand. "Uncle Paton, I've lost the . . . you know . . . the wand."

"What!" Paton's glasses slid to the end of his nose.

"I took it to school. It was stupid of me. I put it under my mattress and now it's gone."

"Do you suspect anyone?"