Charlie Bone and the Time Twister (Children of the Red King, Book 2) (5 page)

Billy Raven was sitting up in bed. "Where've you been?" he asked Charlie.

"Had some extra work to do," said Charlie. He pulled on his pajamas and jumped into bed, just as Matron poked her long face around the door.

"Lights out!" she barked, flicking the light switch.

Out went the bare bulb hanging in the center of the room.

"That was a close one," murmured Gabriel Silk from the bed next to Charlie.

Just before Charlie finally drifted off he thought of the boy in the tower; cold, hungry and probably frightened. What was to be done with Henry Yewbeam?

Unable to sleep, Henry Yewbeam was staring out across the city There was a small, round window in the wall between the bookcases and Henry anxious to know if the world had changed in ninety years, had climbed onto a stool to find out.

The world had, indeed, changed. The sky above the horizon seemed to be on fire. It had a terrifying orange glow Could it be the rows of streetlights leading into the distance? Pinpricks of radiance shone out from the dark blocks of houses and below the tower pairs of shining lights, some red, some white, swept across Henry's field of vision, like earthly shooting stars.

"Motor cars," murmured Henry as one came closer. "So many"

"So many" said a voice, like an echo.

Henry became aware that a man was standing in the darkness beside him. The piano music coming from the room next door had stopped. Henry was relieved; he didn't have much of an ear for music.

"Are you Mr. Pilgrim?" Henry asked.

There was no reply to his question. In the soft light coming through the window Henry could make out a pale face and very black hair. The man's expression was solemn and faraway.

"I'm Henry Yewbeam," said Henry.

Still no reply.

It was like talking to someone who wasn't really there. Perhaps it wouldn't matter if Henry told him the truth.

"I'm very old," he said. "Or at least I should be."

In the distance a clock began to strike. The deep chimes of the cathedral pealed out across the city Mr. Pilgrim turned to Henry His eyes held a strange glitter.

Henry had just counted the twelfth stroke when Mr. Pilgrim said, “Are you cold?"

“Yes," said Henry.

The piano teacher took off his blue cape and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders.

"Thank you," said Henry stepping off the stool.

Mr. Pilgrim smiled. He stretched up to a high shelf and pulled a tin from a row of books. Lifting the lid he offered the tin to Henry "Oatcakes," he said. "You see I live up here, practically And one gets hungry"

"One does," Henry agreed, politely taking only one oatcake.

Mr. Pilgrim didn't offer him any more. He put the tin on the stool and said, "Help yourself." The faraway look had come back into his eyes. He seemed to be trying to remember something. Frowning, he murmured, "Good night."

And then he was gone, slipping away down some stone steps with hardly a sound.

Henry would have liked the strange man to stay He was grateful for the extra cape but, to tell the truth, it was not as cold as it had been. In fact the temperature was rising rapidly The icicles hanging outside the window were beginning to melt.

All around the tower there was a steady drip, drip, drip of ice turning to water. It was a sound that filled Henry with foreboding. He had just worked out that his sudden twist through time must have had something to do with the cold. He had arrived in Bloor's when the temperature had reached exactly the same degree as when he had left, in 1916. A change in the weather could make a difference in time travel.

"I won't be able to get home," Henry said to himself. "I'll never see my family again." And suddenly his situation seemed almost too grim to bear. "But I must!" he murmured.

CHAPTER 4
OLIVIA MAKES A MESS

Billy Raven lay wide awake. For two weeks he had slept alone in the long dormitory. Now he must get used to the grunts and snores, the heavy breathing and tiny whimpers of other boys. It wasn't easy Billy had always been a light sleeper.

Tonight he was feeling excited. He had something to tell old Ezekiel Bloor. Perhaps he would be rewarded. When he was quite sure the other boys were asleep, Billy swung his feet into his slippers and pulled on his bathrobe. The floorboards gave only the slightest creak as he crossed the room and slipped out of the dormitory.

Manfred Bloor had given Billy a present for Christmas; a long black flashlight with a very powerful beam. Billy hadn't expected a gift from the head boy of all people, but when Manfred bent down and whispered, "We must keep our spies happy" Billy had understood.

He switched on the flashlight and a brilliant shaft of light swept right to the end of the passage. Billy began his long journey to the upper regions of the west wing. He usually waited for Blessed to lead him. But tonight he couldn't wait.

As Billy made his way closer to the old man's room, he had to navigate a gloomy realm that never changed. It was one of the few places where Ezekiel's flawed magic had worked as he wished. So Billy's slippered feet made no prints in the thick dust, and the cobwebs he walked through wove themselves together as soon as he had passed. If it were not for the occasional hiss from a gaslight, you would have thought the creaking steps and shadowy passages had been deserted for a hundred years.

Billy had reached a black door, the paint scarred by years of dog scratchings. He knocked twice and a voice croaked, "Who is there?"

"Billy Raven," said Billy.

"Enter, Billy Raven," said the voice.

Billy walked in.

Ezekiel Bloor sat in his wheelchair beside a blazing fire. A sheepskin blanket was draped around his shoulders, and his ancient skull-like face poked from beneath a black woolly hat. A pile of faded velvet cushions were propped behind his back, and he wore a black velvet jacket studded with gold buttons. For all his finery though, Billy couldn't help thinking the old man looked a bit like a dead sheep.

Without being invited, the small boy sat down heavily in the chair opposite Ezekiel. The sudden change in atmosphere made him feel dizzy.

"Where's the dog?" asked the old man.

"I don't know I couldn't wait for him. I wanted to tell you something." Billy's glasses had misted up in the steamy atmosphere. He took them off and rubbed the lenses with his thumb.

“Ah good. Something about Charlie?" The old man leaned forward eagerly.

"Sort of," said Billy.

"Come on, then. Tell, tell."

"Well, it was Blessed really He saw it."

"It?" wheezed the old man. "It? What 'it' was this? And the dog's name is Percy How many times do I have to tell you!"

"Sorry But he thinks he's Blessed."

"Yes, yes. Never mind. Go on!" Ezekiel waved his hand impatiently.

Billy put his glasses back on, and then wished he hadn't. The old man's wizened face loomed unpleasantly close. Billy could see every wart and bristle in vivid detail.

"The dog was howling and Manfred sent me to find out what was wrong, knowing I could understand dog talk, and all that."

"Wish I could understand the wretched dog." Ezekiel shook his head. "So what did he say?"

"Said he'd seen a boy come from nowhere. And this boy had a ball, very small and shiny He said it was bad . . ."

"WHAT?" The old man clapped a hand over his mouth. "What? A boy and . . . and was it glass, this ball?"

"Could be," said Billy amazed by the excitement his news had caused.

"No, no, it can't be." Ezekiel stood up, but his useless legs let him down, and he sank back into his cocoon of sheep's wool and velvet.

"And then I noticed Charlie Bone in the hall, and Blessed said he looked like the appearing boy" Billy smiled and waited for the effect these words would have. He wasn't disappointed.

"Charlie Bone," breathed Ezekiel. "Yes, yes, of course. He was a bit like Charlie Bone. No wonder I can't stand the boy Find him, Billy Bring him here."

"Who? Charlie?"

"No, you fool. The other one. My cousin Henry"

"Your cousin?" said Billy confused. "How? I don't know where he is."

"You've just told me he's in the building. It can't be that difficult."

"You mean he's your . . .?"

"My cousin, yes. I sent him packing years ago. Never thought I'd see the wretch again." The old man's voice dropped to a low mumble. "Must be the weather — coordinating temperatures. Mm, hmm . . . Time Twister works that way . . . Ho hum." He drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair.

Billy was intrigued. "What's a Time Twister?"

Ezekiel looked up. His small black eyes seemed to be staring right through Billy "It's a marvelous thing," he murmured. "A crystal ball, hardly bigger than a marble. It can twist you through the years. No wonder the dog didn't like it. Never look at it, unless you want to travel, that's what my aunt told me. Ask the dog where that boy is. Percy knows everything. Now get out and close the door."

Billy was very disappointed. He'd expected to be rewarded with a cup of hot cocoa at the very least. " Er . . . you know what you said about my parents he began.

"Parents? You haven't got any" said Ezekiel. Clearly his mind was on other things.

"No, but you said someone wanted to adopt me," Billy said hopefully.

"Did I? Can't remember We'll see about them when you've found the boy And don't forget the Twister." Ezekiel dismissed Billy with a wave of his bony hand.

Billy slipped out of his chair and made for the door. Then he turned to the old man and said, "Thanks for the boots. My chilblains are much better."

Ezekiel grunted. He wasn't listening to the boy When Billy had gone the old man stared into the flames and uttered a stream of strange words and sounds. Now and again the name "Henry" bubbled to the surface, and then "Time Twister." Other recognizable words were "Never!" "How?" "No, no!" "Why?" "Impossible!" These were spat so hard into the flames they began to sizzle. The fire might have gone out altogether if the old man hadn't reached into a silver box beside him and tossed a handful of sparkling sticks into the grate. But these small magic sticks caused such a violent explosion, clouds of black smoke billowed out into the room, and the old man was overcome by a violent fit of coughing.

"Idiots!" he croaked at the innocent silver box.

Charlie was awake, he couldn't think why Something must have woken him. What was it?

The distant chimes of the cathedral clock began to ring out across the city. It was midnight and the back of Charlie's neck began to tingle. He felt as he always did when he heard the clock strike twelve. Afraid and elated at the same time.

A bed creaked at the end of the room and he wondered if Billy had been out and about. Even if he had he wouldn't be punished for it. Last semester Billy had won the ruin game, and he was now the proud possessor of a bronze medal, a medal that would give him extra privileges and a whole year free of detention.

"Billy is that you?" Charlie whispered.

No answer, but there was another long creak, and Charlie was sure that it came from Billy's bed.

"Where’ve you been?" he asked.

"None of your business," came the reply.

It was definitely Billy's voice. Charlie burrowed under the covers.
If Billy wants to be secretive, let him,
Charlie thought. He had other things to worry about: rescuing Henry for one thing. The whole enterprise needed very careful planning. First of all, he would have to get some food to Henry Before he could decide how to do this, Charlie had fallen asleep.

Fidelio's dreams had been more productive. He had devised a way for Charlie to sneak up the music tower after lunch. But they would need help.

Over breakfast next morning, Fidelio outlined his plan to Charlie. "Olivia will do it," he murmured in Charlie's ear. Although there was a great deal of noise all around them, Fidelio didn't want their plans to be overheard.

"Olivia? How can she help?" Charlie said softly He tried to keep his lips as rigid as possible because Billy Raven, sitting opposite, was watching him intently.

Fidelio was also aware of Billy's intense stare. He turned his head away from the table and whispered harshly "She can create a diversion. We need someone to stop Manfred and Asa Pike reaching the hall, when you go through the door to the tower. They both use the drama cafeteria; if Olivia can hold those two up for a few minutes, you stand a chance. No one else would bother to watch us."

"What are you whispering about?"

Charlie and Fidelio looked up to see Manfred Bloor leaning over Billy's chair. He was studying them closely It was almost as if the younger boy had called him over.

"Well, come on, share your secret, Charlie Bone!" Manfred's black eyes glittered dangerously.

Charlie immediately lowered his head. He knew he could fight Manfred's hypnotizing stare, but he didn't want to get into trouble with the head boy before Henry had been rescued.

Fidelio said quickly "We were just discussing Olivia Vertigo's hair."

"Oh?" Manfred raised a thin black eyebrow.

"Yes, we thought blue looked very nice on her," said Charlie, "but we didn't like to say it out loud, in case 1 she heard us."

“As if," said Manfred scathingly "It's not exactly quiet in here, is it? Personally I think Olivia Vertigo's hair looks ghastly"

He shouted this last remark and, hearing her name mentioned, Olivia looked over from the table behind him. When she saw Charlie's serious face, she-grimaced and returned to her attack on the lumpy oatmeal.

Manfred drifted away and began to shout at a small girl who was wearing her cape inside out.

"Phew!" muttered Charlie. "Let's talk at break."

"Good idea," agreed Fidelio.

By the time the two boys had managed to call Olivia away from her friends, break was almost over. Olivia came bouncing across the snowy ground in bright pink lace-up boots studded with sequins.

"The snow's taking all the paint off," she complained, holding out her left foot. The toe of her boot was a nasty gray color.

"Olivia, we need a favor," said Charlie, coming straight to the point.

"Oh?" Olivia put her foot back into the snow "What sort of favor?"

Charlie knew it was no good trying to get Olivia to do something without a proper explanation. She would have to know all about Henry Yewbeam before she agreed to help. So, as quickly as he could, Charlie told her everything.

Olivia's mouth dropped open and her large gray eyes grew even wider.

" D'you mean that he got himself sort of whizzed out of the past to here and now?"

"Yes." Charlie looked over his shoulder. He thought he saw Billy Raven hovering behind a group of music students. "But we want to keep it a secret until we know how to help him. I've got to get him some food."

 “And we thought Charlie could sneak my sausages up the tower at lunch break," said Fidelio, " if you could keep Manfred and Asa in your cafeteria for a few extra minutes."

"No problem," said Olivia. "Leave it to me."

A long blast from the hunting horn sent children racing in from the field, and Olivia ran off to join her friends.

"We'll just have to trust her," said Charlie. "She's usually reliable."

Each department had its own cafeteria, and the drama cafeteria was always the noisiest and most undisciplined. Manfred had done his best to stop them from wearing fancy shoes and long skirts but the drama teachers were very lax with the rules. They seldom complained about their pupils' choice of clothing, in fact they rather encouraged hats with ears, unusual footwear, and colored face paint. Mrs. Marlowe, head of the drama department, considered clothes a means of self-expression, the more unusual the better. All this infuriated Manfred, but there was little he could do about it, so he took it out on the children in the music and art departments.

Today the drama cafeteria was a mess. Someone's jacket was molting and white fur lay all over the floor. Someone else's hat was shedding feathers and these had floated into the gravy boat. Glitter had stuck to some of the chairs, and the tables were littered with paint flakes, tinsel, and bits of false hair.

"It's disgusting," grumbled Manfred, staring at a sequin in his custard. "Why can't people be more conventional?" For himself he favored plain black with occasionally a purple shirt to match his cape. Even the ribbon on his ponytail was black.

Asa Pike gave a nervous snigger. The mustache he was fond of wearing had just dropped onto his plate. "Oops," he said. "Forgot I was wearing it."

Manfred shot his companion a look of contempt. "There are times, Asa, when I would enjoy giving you a good kick."

Asa's yellow eyes took on a nasty gleam. Manfred began to regret his words. He and Asa were not true friends, they stuck together because everyone else disliked them. Asa might fawn on Manfred but Manfred knew quite well that Asa could be as dangerous as he was. Manfred could hypnotize, but when night fell, Asa could become something wild and deadly a creature beyond Manfred's power.

So the two boys sat at their table, with tight lips and brooding eyes, until a sudden commotion by the door broke their disagreeable silence.

"It's Olivia Vertigo again," said Asa, looking toward the disturbance.

Manfred stood up. "Not her." He strode over to the door.

Olivia had managed to tip the entire contents of a tray right in front of the door. Most of the glass and dishes had broken and now lay in jagged pieces caked with gravy and custard.

"Sorry sorry sorry " said Olivia. "I slipped."

"Sony's not good enough," said Manfred. "Go and get a mop."

"Yes, Manfred." Olivia walked briskly across the cafeteria and into the kitchen. "I'll give them five minutes," she muttered, looking at her watch.

No one paid any attention to Olivia until Cook came through a door at the back of the kitchen. She marched up to Olivia and said, "You're on the wrong side of the door, dear!"