Midnight for Charlie Bone (Children Of The Red King, Book 1) (12 page)

            One more day and Charlie would be at home. Questions for Paton were already forming in his mind when he fell asleep at last.

CHAPTER 12

MIND GAMES

            At breakfast the next morning, Charlie was relieved to find that Manfred was absent from the table.

            "He always sleeps late on the weekends," Billy told him. "He's up half the night, you can see his candles burning from our window"

            "What's he doing?" Charlie murmured.

            "Practicing sorcery,” said Olivia, rolling her eyes. The trouble was, Charlie thought, Olivia was probably right.

            "So he won't be watching us all morning, either?" he asked.

            "Oh, no," Billy assured him. "We'll have to go and work, of course. Our books will be all ready for us, and a sheet of questions to answer, but we can talk and draw or do anything we like as long as we stay there till twelve and finish the questions."

            They made their way to the King's room, where Charlie found a sheet of very mean questions to answer. He was less than halfway through when he remembered Fidelio. "I promised to go to the music tower at half past eleven," he told the others. "Fidelio's coming to give me a sign that he's moved the case."

            "We'll cover for you," Olivia said brightly. “And if you haven't finished your questions you can copy my answers when you get back."

            "Thanks," said Charlie gratefully He remembered that he didn't know how to get to the music tower. It would take him ages to find the way.

            "Fidelio said you'd show me the way but if you're covering for me..."

            "I'll draw a map," said Olivia.

            She kept her word. As Charlie struggled with his questions, glancing at the clock every five minutes, Olivia drew out a neat plan of the passages that led to the music tower. She pushed it over to him.

            "Can you understand it?" she asked.

            Charlie studied the map. "Yes. I go through the last door at the end of the hall."

            "That's it."

            "It's nearly half past," said Billy.

            Charlie leaped up. "We'll say you've gone to the bathroom if anyone comes in," said Olivia.

            Charlie walked to the door, opened it, and looked out. No one was there. He gave Olivia and Billy a quick wave, stepped out into the passage, and closed the door behind him.

            Following Olivia's map he reached the main hall and raced toward a small arched door near the main entrance. The ancient-looking door seemed to be locked. Charlie's heart sank. He twisted the big iron ring that served as a handle and, at the third attempt, the door swung back. Charlie stepped into a dark passage and carefully latched the door behind him.

            He realized that he was now in a part of the building below Manfred's room and he began to tiptoe.

            The dark, stone passage led, at length, to an empty room at the bottom of the tower. Charlie saw the door that Billy must have opened to let the cats in. It was now firmly bolted. Opposite the door, a flight of stone steps ascended to the upper floors.

            Charlie began to mount the steps that spiraled upward, without rails or even a rope to cling to. He emerged at last into another empty room with two windows overlooking the square. He peered out. There was no sign of Fidelio. Perhaps he hadn't climbed high enough to get a good view Charlie mounted a second set of steps, and then, without pausing on the next floor, climbed quickly up to the third. From here he could see the whole city It was a bright, cold morning and, in the distance, the huge cathedral rose out of the mass of surrounding roofs like a magnificent monster, its golden spire twinkling in the sunlight.

            Two figures suddenly ran past the fountain below and stopped when they reached the tower. They waved. Fidelio had brought Benjamin with him. Charlie waved back. Had Fidelio managed to hide the case? Charlie lifted his right thumb to the window and shrugged. He spread his hands. Did they understand him?

            Apparently not. Fidelio and Benjamin began to act in a very peculiar way Benjamin pulled an imaginary.

            cord, while Fidelio stuck his hand behind him and wagged it, like a tail. Charlie shook his head and shrugged. What were they doing? It didn't make sense.

            The two boys were obviously very excited about something, but Charlie wanted to know if the case was safe. He tried to make shapes with his hands, to mouth questions, "Is it safe? The case? Where is it?" It was no use. Benjamin and Fidelio had something else on their minds. Whatever it was, Charlie would have to wait until tonight to find out. He gave another wave and was about to run down the steps when he heard footsteps below him. If he went through the door into the corridor he might find himself outside Manfred's room. The only way out was up. As Charlie began to creep up to the fourth floor, distant music echoed down the narrow stairwell. Someone was playing a piano. Very beautifully It was wonderful, rich, complicated music. The pianist seemed to be using every note on the keyboard, and Charlie was drawn toward the sound as though by a magic thread. He didn't stop at the fourth floor but continued upward, slowly now, and almost fearfully because he found that it was impossible to stop. And he was afraid of what he might find when he reached the top of the tower. The room he finally stepped into was not empty like the others. This room was full of music books. Piles of sheet music lay on the floor, shelves of leather-bound scores lined the walls: Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven, Bach, Liszt. Composers' names. Some were familiar to Charlie, others he'd never heard of.

            Beyond a small oak door a stream of piano music rose and fell. Charlie touched the door handle. He twisted it and the door opened. He stood on the threshold and gazed into the room. It was empty except for a huge black piano and the man sitting behind it: Mr. Pilgrim. The strange piano teacher looked straight through Charlie; he didn't even seem to be aware of the open door, although the draft caused several papers to float off the windowsill.

            Charlie wasn't sure what to do. He stood there, mesmerized, and then, at last, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Mr. Pilgrim played on, now looking at his hands, now staring at the sky beyond the windows, his face blank, his eyes dark and unfathomable. Far away the great cathedral clock began to chime out across the city One, two, three... it was twelve o'clock, Charlie realized. He would be late. The others would wonder where he was. Manfred might come looking for him. He turned to go but, suddenly Mr. Pilgrim stopped playing. He appeared to be listening to the chimes. When the clock struck twelve, Mr. Pilgrim stood up. He saw Charlie standing by the door and frowned.

            "I... I'm sorry sir, I got lost," said Charlie, "and your music was so... well, beautiful, sir, it kind of made me want to listen."

            "What?" said Mr. Pilgrim.

            "It made me want to listen, sir,"

            "Oh."

            "I'm sorry to intrude," Charlie murmured. "I'd better go now"

            "Wait." The strange teacher stepped around the piano and came toward Charlie. "Who are you?"

            "I'm Charlie Bone, sir."

            "Charlie?"

            "Yes."

            Charlie saw a flicker of interest in Mr. Pilgrim's dark eyes, and then it was gone. "I see," he muttered. "You'd better run along."

            "Yes, sir." Charlie was gone in a second. He leaped through the door and down the spiraling steps in half the time it took to climb them. He managed to reach the King's room without meeting anyone, except a janitor who grinned and gave him a large wink as he tore across the hall.

            "What've you been doing?" asked Olivia when Charlie burst into the room.

            "Manfred's been in here twice, asking where you were!"

            "What did you tell him?" said Charlie.

            "I said what we agreed on. That you were in the bathroom*"

            "Twice?" Charlie was worried.

            "The second time I said you had a stomachache," Billy said gravely. “But I don't know if he believed me."

            At that moment, Mr. Paltry came in, collected the books, and told the children to get ready for lunch.

            Lunch was cheese sandwiches and an apple each. The staff that were on Saturday duty sat at the High Table, but Manfred and Dr. Bloor didn't appear.

            "They have their meals in the west wing on the weekends," Billy said, "with Mrs. Bloor and the rest of the family."

            Charlie was surprised. "There are more Bloors?"

            “An old, old man," said Billy. “I've never seen him but Cook's dog told me about him."

            "I bet you learn a lot from Cook's dog," Olivia remarked.

            "I do," said Billy.

            After lunch they were allowed into the garden and Olivia insisted they walk close to the ruin. Billy wasn't too eager, but Charlie was curious.

            "Come on, Billy,” said Olivia. "We won't go in. We'll just take a look. I haven't played the ruin game, yet."

            "Nor me," said Charlie.

            "Nor me," muttered Billy but he reluctantly followed the others up to the dark rust-colored walls. They were at least four meters high, Charlie reckoned, and massively thick. The great stones loomed out of the trees like the boundary of some lost and ancient city The entrance was a wide archway and beyond this they could see a mossy paved courtyard with five shadowy passages leading out of it. Charlie thought of the girl who had vanished and" shuddered. "What goes on in there?" he murmured.

            Olivia guessed what was on his mind. "I'm going to make sure I'm never alone in there, not for one second. It gives me the creeps, wondering what happened to that poor girl. They say her cape was practically shredded to bits."

            "It was a wolf" said Billy.

            “A wolf?" Charlie and Olivia stared at him.

            "Cook's dog told me," said Billy. “It never lies. Dogs don't. To be precise, it said the thing was a kind of wolf. It lives in the academy but it comes out to the ruin at night."

            They found themselves looking up to the sky which was already beginning to fill with evening clouds. Olivia took a step backward, and then she ran across the grass dramatically howling, "Nooooo! Noooooo! Nooooo!" The others ran after her, laughing at her flying white legs and funny high-pitched wailing, although Charlie secretly admitted that there was a bit of fright mixed up in all the laughter.

            They burst through the garden door and ran straight into Manfred.

            "Olivia Vertigo, go and pack," he said coldly. “Bone, come with me."

            "Why?" asked Charlie, staring at the floor.

            Manfred said, "Because I told you to."

            Charlie was tempted to run up to the dormitories with Olivia. Soon his mother would be at the door. Surely Manfred couldn't stop him from going home? On the other hand, perhaps he could.

            Manfred turned away and snapped his fingers. Charlie grinned nervously at his two friends and began to follow the older boy.

            "Good luck!" Olivia whispered.

            Manfred led the way to the prefects' room. Today it was empty and Manfred allowed Charlie to sit in one of the easy chairs, while he took his usual place behind the large desk.

            "Don't look so petrified, Charlie!" Manfred attempted to smile but he wasn't very good at it. "I'm not going to eat you." Charlie wasn't convinced. He kept his eyes on the floor.

            "I just want to know where you've put the case Miss Ingledew gave you. It belongs to us, you see." Manfred's tone was soft and persuasive, but Charlie wasn't fooled.

            "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

            "Of course you do, Charlie. It's no good to you. In fact it'll only bring you trouble. Come on, where is it?"

            When Charlie didn't respond, Manfred began to get impatient. "Look at me, boy!" he barked.

            Charlie kept his eyes on the floor.

            "How long do you think you can keep that up?" sneered Manfred. "Come on, look at me. Come on, just a quick look. It won't hurt." Charlie found his gaze being slowly drawn to Manfred's pale face. He couldn't stop himself If Manfred managed to hypnotize him, all would be lost. He knew he would tell him everything. And then another thought occurred to him. Perhaps he could fight Manfred. If he read his face and listened to his thoughts, maybe he could break the older boy's control. So Charlie looked at the thin, cold face and the coal-black eyes, and he tried to hear the voice of Manfred's thoughts. But no voice came. Instead a picture crept into his mind, a picture of a man playing a piano.

            "Stop it!" Manfred commanded, "Stop doing this, Bone!" But Charlie clung to his image, and now he could hear music, rich and fast and very beautiful.

            "Stop it!" shrieked Manfred.

            A glass of water whizzed past Charlie and smashed against the wall behind him, He leaped out of the chair as a large book came flying at him. The next missile Manfred picked up was a glass paperweight, but before he could throw it, the door opened and Dr. Bloor looked in.

            "What's going on?" he asked.

            "He won't respond," hissed Manfred. "He keeps blocking me. He can play mind games, too."

            "Interesting," said Dr. Bloor. "Very interesting. You shouldn't get in such a state, Manfred. I've warned you. You must control yourself." Charlie glanced at the wall. Broken glass lay across the back of the chair he'd been sitting in, and a large wet stain darkened the rose-colored wallpaper.

            "Charlie, your mother's waiting," said Dr. Bloor. "Go pack, immediately."

            "Yes, sir," Charlie said eagerly He left the room as fast as he dared. Billy was waiting for him in the dormitory He wasn't alone. On the floor beside his bed lay the oldest dog Charlie had ever seen. It was very fat and its long, brown face was jso creased and folded it was difficult to make out where its eyes and mouth were kept. It was panting heavily which wasn't surprising as it must have come up several staircases from the kitchen. Its smell reminded Charlie of his mother's rotting vegetables.