Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors (16 page)

"These two know what's happened," said Tancred, perching on one of the lower logs.

"I'm always the last to know anything these days." Fidelio sat on a log halfway up.

"That's because you're not endowed," said Olivia. "Not that I am. And not that I'd want to be."

Fidelio ignored her. "Tancred, tell me please, where's Charlie gone?"

Tancred took a breath. "It all started on Sunday morning when Billy Raven escaped from his new parents." I le went on to tell Fidelio everything.

"Phew!" Fidelio glanced at the looming red walls. "That's what all the fuss was about. It woke me up. Dogs barking, cars honking, police sirens, thunder — that was you, I suppose," he said to Tancred.

"Guilty!" Tancred put up his hands with a grin. "But Sander saved the day If it wasn't for him, I don't think I'd be here."

They could see Lysander arguing with Asa Pike on the other side of the playing field, and Tancred said, Asa's really got it in for Sander today First, he said Sander's tie wasn't straight, then he said he was being too noisy which he wasn't, and now look at him."

"I've got a bad feeling about today," said Emma quietly.

Fidelio knew what she meant. Maybe it had something to do with Charlie's absence. "What's all this about a castle of mirrors?" he asked.

"My auntie read about it in a book," said Emma. "Hundreds of years ago, one of the Red King's children set the castle on fire, with his brother's family still inside. But one of them escaped, and that was Billy's ancestor. The walls of the castle turned to shining glass. Imagine!"

"And Charlie thinks he'll find his father there," Tancred added.

Olivia suddenly jumped up and flung her apple into the bushes. "I wish Charlie was here," she said, striding away from diem.

Fidelio felt the same way

* * *

That night, the atmosphere in the King's room was distinctly chilly It was a chill that seeped right through to the bone and Emma, for one, couldn't stop shivering. She shook so much that her pen kept dropping out of her hand. The third time she dropped it, the pen rolled right across the table, and Emma was sure that Inez or Idith had pushed it. The twins kept staring at Emma with their blue china-doll eyes, and she found it almost impossible to concentrate.

Joshua Tilpin had taken Charlie's empty seat beside Emma, and he leaned over the table, picked up her pen, and handed it back to her. He gave her a little smile that tugged at her until she was forced to smile back. But Joshua wanted more than a smile; he wanted her to fly. Emma suddenly imagined herself a great hawk, swooping over her friends, attacking their heads, their hands . . .. But why would she do such a terrible thing? She looked away from Joshua. He gave her the creeps.

Gabriel, sitting on the other side of Emma, whispered, “Are you OK, Em?"

Emma nodded.

"Quiet!" said Manfred. "No whispering."

Inez and Idith turned their cold gaze on Gabriel, Asa's yellow eyes hardened, and Dorcas Loom gave a secretive smile.

Emma glanced along the line beside her. Gabriel, Tancred, and Lysander were bent over their books. Their gloomy frowns made her feel even more uneasy

When homework was over, the endowed children began to file out of the King's room with Manfred at their head. Emma waited for Gabriel, who was taking longer than usual to pack up his work. The same thing was happening to Tancred and Lysander. Books dropped, others wouldn't close. Pens rolled away and paper fluttered out of their hands.

"Something's wrong," said Emma.

"You can say that again," groaned Lysander.

"We're outnumbered," Gabriel said. "Four to five, six, if you count Manfred."

The three boys managed to gather everything together at last, and Emma walked with them toward the dormitories. As they were crossing the landing, Gabriel turned away from the group and began to run down into the hall.

"Where are you going, Gabe?" called Lysander. "Matron'll get you!"

"I'm allowed to do half an hour's practice in the Music Tower," said Gabriel. "Mr. Ebony gave me special permission on Friday." He pulled a note from his pocket. "So Matron will have to shove it."

This brought a smile to his friends' faces, but all three felt inexplicably uneasy as they watched Gabriel cross the hall to the door in the Music Tower.

Gabriel too had a sense of foreboding, but he loved to practice on the grand piano, and it was precisely because he had been feeling so troubled that he could hardly wait to lose himself in music.

It was a long climb to the top of the lower, and when Gabriel reached the music room, he had to sit on a stool to recover his breath. As he lifted the piano lid, he noticed a blue cape on a chair beside the window Surely it had to be Mr. Pilgrim's. Gabriel had always been very attached to Mr. Pilgrim. The strange teacher was a brilliant pianist, and although he made very few comments, Gabriel had always been aware of Mr. Pilgrim's warm approval.

Where was the piano teacher now? What had happened to him? Gabriel seldom used his endowment. It could affect him badly if he put on the clothes of someone who had suffered grief or pain. But this time Gabriel's curiosity got the better of him, and he felt compelled to put on the cape.

As soon as he pulled the hood over his head, reality began to slide away and Gabriel was imprisoned in a darkness so deep and dreadful he couldn't escape from it. He tried to tear the hood away but his arms were useless, and he was forced to endure the horror until he fell senseless to the floor.

THE WALL OF HISTORY

On a silver-while beach far away from his friends' misfortunes, Charlie found himself in a difficult situation. Billy had become angry and frightened when he heard the story of Prince Amadis. With his head down and hands thrust deep in his pockets, the white-haired boy paced the beach, kicking at sand and shells. "Why didn't you tell me?" he cried accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me about my guardian and the book and all those terrible things that happened — out there?"

"I'm sorry, Billy. My uncle didn't think it would be safe for you to know. And then, when we met the queen, somehow it was all too late." Charlie was keeping half an eye on the sea. The tide was coming in fast, and soon there would be no way off the beach. They were in a small bay with walls of dangerous-looking rocks on either side and an almost vertical cliff behind them. There was another problem. How would they reach the island?

Ignoring Billy for the moment, Charlie began to search the rocks and the base of the cliff for a boat. Why there should be one in such a secluded place, he hadn't considered. Slowly and steadily the sea crept over the sand.

"Charlie!" shrieked Billy suddenly aware of the last-approaching water. "What's happening?"

"The tide's coming in." Charlie was investigating a deep cave. It was so dark, he couldn't see where it ended. If only he had a flashlight. But he hadn't even brought a box of matches. A tiny light swept over his head and fluttered to the back of the cave. It was very faint, but it enabled Charlie to make out what looked like a boat, lying on its side at the top of a steep incline. The light moved across the cave, revealing a black wall glistening with water.

"Charlie! What are we going to do?" came a panic-stricken voice.

"Come and help," called Charlie. "I've found a boat."

Billy was beside him in a moment. "How did you find it?"

"There's a light." Charlie peered at the hovering shape. It had wings tipped with silver, "it's the white moth."

"Your wand," said Billy "and look, it's sitting on something."

“An oar," cried Charlie. "There are two of them."

It was a small boat, but it took all their strength to heave it down the sloping floor of the cave and out on to the beach. By the time they got there, the water was lapping at the mouth of the cave.

Pulling off his socks and shoes, Charlie rolled up his trousers and told Billy to do the same.

"Where are we going?" asked Billy

"Where do you think? To the island."

"N-n-nooooo!" moaned Billy "I don't want to. I won't. There'll be ghosts out there after what happened. Please don't make me."

"Don't be an idiot," said Charlie touchily "There's nowhere else to go. We'll drown if we wait any longer."

The boat was already beginning to float as they pulled it down the beach, and Charlie ordered Billy to jump in before it was too late. Still whining, Billy scrambled over the side while Charlie held the boat steady and then Charlie was in, too. Sitting opposite Billy he fixed the oars into the oarlocks and began to paddle away from the cliff.

"Can you row?" asked Billy clinging to his narrow seat.

"Like a champion," said Charlie. "My great-grandpa lives by the sea."

"Oh!" said Billy with a hint of admiration.

It was true. Charlie had become an excellent oarsman during his visits to the sea with Uncle Paton. But he'd never covered such a huge distance as the one he was now attempting. He rowed against the tide and the sea got rough. Now and again a huge wave would spill over the side and Billy would shriek with terror. Trying to hide his own fear, Charlie advised Billy to keep his eyes shut until they were safe.

"Will we ever be safe?" Billy's pathetic voice was beginning to get on Charlie's nerves.

"If you can't cheer up, just shut up!" he barked.

Realizing his life was in Charlie's hands, Billy didn't say another word. Charlie's arms were already aching so badly that he thought they would drop off before he got to the island. Every time he looked over his shoulder, the blue-gray shape with its crown of glass looked as distant as ever. If anything, it seemed to be receding and Charlie began to doubt its existence. Maybe it was a mirage that they would never reach — a cruel trick that kept pulling them farther and farther away from the mainland and out on to the empty ocean.

Charlie decided he wouldn't look back again until he had counted up to five hundred. He had a short rest, took a deep breath, then saw the white moth resting on his sleeve. Remembering that his former wand needed instructions in Welsh, Charlie said,
"Helpi vee!
Help me!"

He wasn't sure what to expect, but nothing miraculous happened. Giant waves still rocked the boat and broke over the bow, sending sprays of water over Charlie's back. But long before he had counted to five hundred, the boat thudded against a rock, and this time, when Charlie looked over his shoulder, they were there.

Steering carefully around the rock, Charlie jumped out, instructing Billy to sit tight while he pulled him into shallow water.

Billy's eyes were open now, and he couldn't wait to get out of the boat. With a loud splash, he landed beside Charlie, up to his waist in water.

Relief made both of them giggle. They pulled the boat out of the water and up onto a grassy bank, shaking with laughter and shivering with cold.

"We'll dry our clothes in the castle," said Charlie. "I don't want to arrive in just my underwear."

"It's not as if the king will be there," Billy remarked with another giggle.

It was just as well their shoes were dry as the ground was pitted with stones and thistles. According to
The
Book of Amadis,
the fields around the castle had once been filled with well-tended crops. But now, coarse grass grew almost waist high. It was like moving through a prickly sea.

The ground began to slope up to a rocky hill dotted with small misshapen trees. Rising above the trees, the blazing glass walls of the castle cut into the blue sky in strange, jagged points. If there were any windows in the mysterious building they were made of mirrored glass, for nothing resembling a window could be seen.

The boys began to walk through the leafless windblown trees while the sun warmed their backs and dried their clothes. Closer and closer, they moved toward, the castle. Higher and higher. Charlie found that he was trembling with apprehension. A lump had formed in his throat and he couldn't trust himself to speak.

All at once, Billy raced up to the castle. He touched the shining walls and said breathlessly "It really is made of glass."

Charlie drew up beside him. "But where's the door?"

They scrambled around the castle, searching for a way in, but seeing only themselves reflected in the mirrored walls. The castle was far larger than Charlie had imagined. He realized that they had only reached the outer walls. Inside there must be a large courtyard and then the keep. He could just see the top of a tall glass tower some distance from the walls.

They had almost reached the point where they had started when Billy a few meters ahead of Charlie, suddenly disappeared.

Charlie stumbled forward crying, "Billy where are you?"

"Here!" came a voice.

Almost at his feet, Charlie noticed a hole that had previously been covered with coarse scrub. He knelt down and, peering inside, could just make out Billy's pale face smiling up at him.

"It's OK," said Billy "There's a passage and I can see a light at the end."

Charlie climbed into the hole and slid into the darkness. It was very exhilarating flying over such a shining, slippery surface, but landing on hard rock at the bottom was a bit of a shock.

"Ouch!" Charlie stood up and banged his head on the low ceiling. "Ouch again!" He was standing in a tiny underground space with barely enough room for two.

"Look, look!" Billy demanded.
"A
passageway."

Charlie turned sideways and saw a shadowy gap in the rock. He leaned down and looked inside. A narrow tunnel led toward a distant gleam of light. "That's not a passageway it's a tunnel," said Charlie.

"Same thing."

"It's not. We'll have to crawl."

"Let's crawl, then." Billy dropped to his knees and began to crawl along the tunnel. His reluctance to visit the castle had vanished and he was now even more enthusiastic than Charlie.

They were halfway down the tunnel when Charlie began to hear the sound of a piano. His heart beat faster and yet he hesitated before climbing out of the tunnel. He was afraid of what he might see. When he finally emerged from the dark, he found himself in a vast courtyard, covered with shining stones. The music came from a square tower in the center. A flight of narrow steps led up to an arched door in the tower; both the door and the steps were made of coarse black glass.

The steps were as rough as sandpaper and easy to climb. Billy went first and when they reached the top, he knocked politely on the door.

The music stopped but no one appeared. Charlie cautiously pushed the door and it swung inward. Together, the boys stepped into the room beyond.

Charlie's first sight of the man inside was a fragmented reflection, for the room was walled in rectangles of misty glass and its occupant stood behind him. Very slowly, Charlie turned. He saw a man of medium height with dark hair and large green eyes. He had a long, aquiline nose and a wide mouth. His skin was sallow and he looked as if he had spent a long lime indoors. There was something familiar about the man and it gave Charlie a surge of hope.

The stranger smiled tentatively "What have you brought me?" he asked.

"Nothing." Charlie was puzzled. "Were you expecting something?"

"Sometimes they send food." The man sat down on a rickety-looking chair and sighed. “A boy brings it from the mainland."

Aware that his father had lost his memory Charlie asked, "What do they call you, sir?"

"I am called Albert Tuccini but, of course, that is
not
my real name."

"Do you . . . do you know your real name?"

Albert Tuccini shook his head. "I cannot help you there."

Charlie took a step closer to the man. "I think I know you, sir."

The man lowered his head. "Many people know me. I was a famous pianist."

"Then why are you here, sir?" asked Billy.

“Ah." Albert Tuccini put a finger to his lips. "It's not sale for me outside. I do not belong here, you see. I have lost my country my home, and my name."

Charlie thought he detected a foreign accent in Albert's speech, but he told himself that this could be explained by the man not knowing who he was. He went up to Albert Tuccini and touched his shoulder. "I think I know your real name, sir. Maybe I can help you to remember."

"Yes?" A little gleam of hope lit the man's sad, green eyes.

"I think your name is Lyell Bone."

"Lyell Bone," the man repeated. "It is a good name."

“And I'm Charlie, your son," said Charlie in a rush.

Billy pulled his sleeve. "You don't know that," he said in a low voice.

"I do," said Charlie. "I'm sure of it."

The man looked puzzled. "Son?" he said doubtfully. "It's not possible."

"Yes, yes!" cried Charlie, utterly convinced that this was indeed his father. “And now that I've found you, everything's going to be all right. I'll take you home, and you'll meet Uncle Paton again. Remember him? Paton Yewbeam."

"Paton?" the man repeated. "I remember Yewbeam. It was Miss Yewbeam who brought me here. Miss Eustacia Yewbeam. It is she who sometimes brings food."

"Of course!" Charlie was so excited he could hardly keep still. "There are three Miss Yewbeams. They're my great-aunts, and I know they made you disappear."

The man said, "Well, well," and shook his head. "Please, will you call me Albert for now? I am used to it."

"Just for now, then," Charlie agreed.

Billy suddenly said, "I can't live in this place! Not if the Yewbeams come here."

Charlie realized that for Billy the situation was as bad as ever. "We'll find somewhere else," he told Billy "soon as we can."

But while they had been talking, there had been a dramatic change in the weather. A northerly wind had begun to howl around the castle, and flurries of hail beat upon the glass walls. A journey across the sea would be too dangerous. They would have to wait until the storm died down.

Albert offered to give the boys a meal. Lifting the lid of a large oak chest, he took out several cans and emptied them into a saucepan. A small paraffin stove stood in the corner of the room and Albert proceeded to heat the food. When this was done Billy and Charlie were handed two bowls of baked beans and two spoons.

"I will use the saucepan," their host said cheerfully dipping a wooden spoon into the remaining beans. "Food from a can can be very good, yes?"

"Yes," said Charlie, wondering if his father lived entirely on beans.

The boys sat on a straw mat that partially covered the hard glass floor and Mr. Tuccini sat on the only chair. While he ate, Charlie looked around the mirrored room. It was sparsely furnished. Against one wall was a mattress with a pile of blankets on top of it. A battered suitcase stood beside the mattress, and Charlie assumed it held all its owner's possessions, for there were none to be seen, except for a few books, some plates and spoons, and a pile of paper sitting on a round table. Beneath the table was a large bowl, a jug, and several jars. A windup gramophone had been placed on the floor just inside the door.

On one side of the door, a flight of steep steps led farther up the tower. Billy had been staring at these steps while he ate; in fact, he couldn't take his eyes off them. "Where do they go?" he asked, nodding at them.

"They lead up to the walls of history," said Albert. "I have been there but the walls tell me nothing. Sometimes, I hear laughter and singing, a word or two that I cannot understand and — sounds that I do not wish to tell."

"Ghosts?" asked Charlie.