Children of the Red King Book 07 Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock, Page 5

  "Goodness," Maisie exclaimed. "I've even forgotten lunch. That's a first. I'll get a bit ready while you all go down the cellar."

  Uncle Paton thought it unnecessary for them all to visit the cellar. Telling Fidelio and Olivia to wait in the kitchen, he chose just Benjamin to accompany him. Benjamin had, after all, seen Runner Bean vanish, and he could tell if the painting had changed at all.

  Paton lit three candles in a tall candelabra that stood on the shelf. "Don't, whatever you do, turn the light on in the cellar," he told Benjamin.

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  "Of course not, Mr. Yewbeam," Benjamin said emphatically.

  Paton made his way down the steps backward with the candelabra in his right hand. Benjamin followed.

  "Ye gods, what a grim place!" Paton declared, as the flickering candlelight played over the surface of the painting.

  Benjamin shuddered. Badlock had looked sinister before. But in candlelight it looked terrifying. He could hardly bear to think what might have become of Runner Bean in such an awful place. And then he saw it. At the bottom of the painting, peeking around the corner of one of the towers, was a dog. Runner Bean. His mouth was open in a silent howl.

  Benjamin screamed.

  "What the... ?" Uncle Paton almost dropped the candelabra.

  "Look, look, Mr. Yewbeam!" Benjamin pointed a shaking finger at Runner Bean.

  Paton bent closer to the dog's head.

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  Benjamin's scream had brought the others rushing to the cellar door.

  "What is it? What's happened?" Maisie demanded.

  "Can I come down, please," begged Olivia. "I can't stand not knowing."

  "Runner's h... h... here," Benjamin quavered.

  "Here?" said Fidelio.

  "Here... but, not here. THERE," moaned Benjamin.

  "In the painting." Uncle Paton's tone gave the already tense atmosphere an edge of menace. This was too much for Olivia, who began to scramble down the steps. She was stopped by a shout from the hall.

  "RABBIT!" screamed Grandma Bone from upstairs.

  Grandma Bone was scared of most animals, but harmless rabbits were her betes noires.

  Olivia reluctantly climbed back, while Fidelio said calmly, "It's all right, Mrs. Bone. It won't hurt you."

  "It's EVIL," shrilled Grandma Bone, and then she saw Olivia. "What are you doing here, you harpy?"

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  Olivia had never been called a harpy before. She was rather pleased. Her rabbit, Wilfred, had escaped from his basket and was now halfway up the stairs, happily grazing the carpet. Grandma Bone was standing at the top; one of her small black eyes was screwed shut, the other watched the rabbit's progress in horror.

  Olivia leaped up the stairs, grabbed her rabbit, and carried him back to his basket. "He honestly wouldn't hurt a fly," she said, fastening the basket lid.

  "I asked you what you were doing here." Feeling safer, Grandma Bone slowly descended the stairs.

  Before Olivia could think of a reply, Uncle Paton emerged and said, "I think it's about time you answered a few of my questions, Grizelda."

  "Such as?" Grandma Bone tossed her head imperiously.

  "Such as - what is that painting doing in the cellar, and where has it come from?"

  "None of your business." With a wary glance at Wilfred's basket, Grandma Bone swept back up the

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  stairs and crossed the hall into the living room. Uncle Paton followed her and the three children trooped after him. Maisie, however, sank onto the hall chair with a baffled sigh.

  "It is my business," Uncle Paton insisted.

  Grandma Bone settled herself in an armchair and picked up a newspaper.

  "Are you listening to me, Grizelda?" roared Uncle Paton, and then, to the concern of the three children hovering by the door, he said, "Your grandson has vanished into that painting."

  Benjamin muttered, "We're not supposed to tell..."

  Grandma Bone lowered her newspaper. Her long, grumpy face was momentarily transformed by a look of pure delight. "But that's what he does," she said.

  In the giant's tower, Charlie gave Runner Bean a brief wave before being lowered to the floor.

  "A dog?" said Otus. "Their like is ne'er seen in Badlock."

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  "We must rescue him before those awful troll things come back," said Charlie, making for the door.

  "Boy, wait!" commanded Otus. "This is not as simple as it seems."

  "Nothing here is simple." Charlie began to run down the stone spiral.

  "STOP!" The giant's huge roar echoed down the stairwell, and Charlie was forced to obey. "It is most likely a trick, Charlie, to force you into the open. Come back, I beg you."

  Charlie reluctantly trudged back to the giant's room. The situation would be hopeless, he realized, if both he and Runner Bean were caught. "I feel so guilty," he told the giant, "leaving him out there, all alone, especially now that he's seen me."

  "I know, I know." Otus lit a candle and set it on the table. "But all around us there are towers and watchers. Soon the darkness will come, a darkness like no other, Charlie. No stars shine in Badlock and moonlight is - scarce. So we will creep down our tower and rescue the poor dog."

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  The giant stirred the pot hanging over his stove. "I had a dog once, in the world we come from. It was a fine dog, and we were scarce parted. Here, in Badlock, there are no dogs or cats. There are only bugs and slimy, creeping, cold-blooded things called durgles. And the birds fly on bony, featherless wings, and they have long, fearful beaks."

  Charlie climbed onto the giant's bed. "Why are there no dogs or cats?"

  "The shadow and his people consider a creature's use solely the food it can provide, or the pelt that can become a cloak, a jerkin, or even shoes. Every warm-blooded creature has been hunted, almost to extinction. Only the squirras survive; they breed like demons, that is the reason, maybe."

  "What about blancavamps?" asked Charlie.

  "Aha, the blancavamps." Otus smiled. "They dare not touch the blancavamps, for they are ghosties." He ladled several dollops of steamy stew into two wooden bowls. "Come to the table, Charlie my descendant, and eat your supper."

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  Charlie hauled himself off the bed and onto the tall chair, while the giant tore a round loaf in two and placed a piece beside each bowl. He then half-sat on the table and began to swish the bread into the stew, using it as a kind of spoon. Charlie did the same. Squirra stew was surprisingly good, but then Charlie was very hungry.

  They ate in silence for a while. Charlie kept thinking of Runner Bean outside the tower. How frightened he must be. And then the warm stew settled in his stomach, and he could only think how comforting it was. Occasionally, he glanced at his ancestor's face. He could see no resemblance between the Yewbeams he knew and the giant. Grandma Bone and her sisters had tiny black eyes and thin lips, while Otus had gray eyes and a wide, generous mouth. But, of course, many generations had come between them.

  "Tell me about your life," said the giant, scraping the last morsel from his bowl.

  Charlie licked his fingers until every delicious trace of the stew was gone, and then he began. He told the

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  giant how his father had been hypnotized by Manfred Bloor and lived for ten long years in the school called Bloor's Academy, while no one knew he was there. He went on to say how he, Charlie, had discovered his talent for traveling into pictures. He described Grandma Bone and her terrible sisters, and his friends, the normal ones like Fidelio and Benjamin. "Only Fidelio isn't really normal," Charlie added. "He's a musical prodigy and one day he'll be famous."

  And then Charlie reco
unted some of his adventures with those other friends, the endowed, the descendants of the Red King, like himself. Emma, who could fly; Billy, who understood animals; Lysander, who could call up his spirit ancestors; Tancred, the storm-maker; Gabriel, the clairvoyant. "And there's Olivia." Charlie gave a chuckle. "She's an illusionist, but the Bloors don't know about her. She's kind of our secret weapon."

  "So this ancient man, Ezekiel Bloor, keeps you prisoner in his academy for the... ?" The giant looked at Charlie questioningly.

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  "Gifted, I suppose you'd call it," said Charlie. "And we're not really prisoners."

  "But under his control."

  "Sometimes we disobey."

  "Good! Good!" cried Otus, clapping his hands. He glanced up at the window. "Darkness has come. The dog can be rescued."

  "Runner Bean!" Charlie had almost forgotten poor Runner Bean while he'd been talking to the giant.

  Otus led the way down the tower. He held the candle in an iron dish. It smelled like burning fat and cast huge, leaping shadows on the stone walls. When they reached the outer door, the giant stopped and listened. Charlie waited beside him, scarcely able to breathe.

  Otus had barely opened the door before Charlie rushed out. He was met by such an overpowering blackness, he felt he might have been blinded. And through the terrible dark came the winds, first from one side, then another, driving him against the wall of the tower, dragging his legs, howling in his head.

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  "RUNNER!" Charlie screamed into the wind.

  He waited for an answering bark. But nothing could be heard above the winds.

  "Best return, boy," called Otus. "He has been taken."

  "No!" Charlie ran blindly forward. Suddenly, he was falling. He landed with a groan on the hard, rocky ground. Putting out a hand, he felt a damp wall. Something scurried over his fingers and he screamed again.

  There came a deep, throaty bark, and even in his dangerous position, Charlie felt a surge of joy. "Runner!" he called.

  The giant's voice drifted above the wind. "Cursed giant, that I am. I should have warned you of the pits. Where are you, boy?"

  "Here!" cried Charlie. He heard the thud of boots. A giant hand touched his, and then he was being hauled up the side of the pit. As he reached the top, a shaft of weak, ragged moonlight showed him a

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  large yellow dog, perched on the rim. "Runner!" he shouted.

  Runner Bean barked delightedly as the giant bundled boy and dog toward the tower. "Hush, dog!" he said, pushing them both through the door.

  Charlie grabbed the excited dog's collar while Otus closed the door and drew two heavy bolts across it.

  "Faith, that dog will have us all in chains before night has passed," the giant muttered.

  "Did someone hear us?" Charlie stroked Runner Bean's head, calming him down.

  "I fear my neighbor," Otus admitted, as he went up the stone staircase. "His tower is close, and he is not a kind man."

  Now that Runner Bean had found Charlie, he seemed reluctant to climb the shadowy steps. Charlie had to coax him up with strokes and promises of bones, though he had no idea if any would be found once they reached the giant's room.

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  The giant had thought ahead. By the time Charlie had enticed the nervous dog to the top of the stairs, Otus had fished two bones out of the cooking pot. Flinging them across the floor, he chuckled, "Chew on those, brave dog."

  "I don't think he feels very brave," Charlie remarked as he watched Runner Bean, ravenously gnawing the bones.

  "Charlie, you must flee from here," Otus said gravely. "We cannot hope to hide that dog. Soon my neighbor will alert Oddthumb and his crew. You will hear the horn, and then you must be gone."

  "But how?" Charlie gazed around the giant's room. "I can't," he said in a strangled voice. "I don't know how I got here. When I travel I have a wand ..."

  "A wand?" The giant's eyes widened. "Truly, you are a magician, then?"

  "No, no." Charlie shook his head. "It's just something that I inherited from my other ancestor, a Welsh wizard. It'd take too long to explain."

  Too long, indeed, for at that moment the eerie

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  sound of a wailing horn echoed around the giant's tower.

  "Oh, mercy, what's to be done?" The giant strode around and around, clenching his fists and glaring at the high window. "I shall defend you with my last breath, Charlie. But I am only one. I cannot prevail. Oddthumb will take you. Oh, poor boy, what is to become of you?"

  The giant's mournful voice was too much for Runner Bean. He leaped up with a dreadful howl - and something astonishing happened. From inside one of the dog's ears, a white moth fluttered out. She came to rest on Charlie's arm.

  "Claerwen," breathed Charlie. "My wand."

  "In my day, we called such things moths," said the baffled giant.

  "Yes, yes. She is a moth, but she was once a wand," Charlie told the giant. "Mr. Yewbeam, Otus - we can go now. Thank you, thank you..."

  "Then go," said Otus, "for I can hear troll feet. Swiftly, swiftly, Charlie Bone."

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  "Maybe I could take you with me, Otus?"

  The giant sadly shook his head. "An impossibility. Go now, Charlie."

  Charlie flung his arm around Runner Bean. "I'll come back, Otus. I promise. I'll find a way to get you out of Badlock." Gazing at the moth, he cried, "Claerwen, take me home."

  The room around him began to jerk and jolt. Defying gravity, the table, chair, and bed tumbled sideways, then became airborne. Charlie was treading air. Now he was upside down. His ears were bombarded with a thousand sounds. He felt Runner's coarse hair melting under his fingers and tried to grip it tighter, but something or someone was trying to tear the dog from his grasp. And then his hand was empty and he was whirling away.

  Charlie caught one last glimpse of his ancestor's kind, incredulous face before he was thrust through time, through a sparkling, shifting web of sounds, smells, and sensations.

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  He landed with a light bump on the cold cellar floor of number nine Filbert Street. The painting of Badlock stood against the wall behind him. Giving it one brief glance, Charlie ran to the steps and climbed up to the hall. He could hear voices arguing above him.

  "Mercy on us!" yelled Maisie, jumping out of her chair. "Charlie's back!"

  There was a sudden silence in the living room. Uncle Paton stepped out, followed by Fidelio, Benjamin, and Olivia.

  "Charlie!" cried Benjamin. "Have you got Runner?"

  Charlie still felt unsteady. Grasping the railing for support, he said, "Bit of a problem there, Ben."

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  CHAPTER 4

  GREEN VAPOR

  Charlie Bone, I hate you!"

  Benjamin's sudden explosion was so out of character, Charlie could only stare at his friend in astonishment.

  "You're always doing it," yelled Benjamin. "You're always losing my dog. That time he nearly drowned, and that other time when the enchanter came and..."

  "Benjamin Brown," roared Uncle Paton, "control yourself."

  Benjamin's mouth closed in a grim pout. His usually pale face had turned an angry red and his eyes were filled with tears.

  Charlie stared miserably at his feet. "I'm sorry, but I tried to bring Runner back with me, I really did."

  "You saw him?" Benjamin almost choked on his words. "How come you got out and he couldn't? He's trapped in that awful place... and... and ..."

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  Uncle Paton put a hand on Benjamin's shoulder and gently propelled him toward the kitchen. "Come and sit down, all of you. We need to discuss things carefully."
>
  A voice called from the living room, "Oh, what a to-do!"

  "I suppose this is some devilish plan of yours, Grizelda," Uncle Paton retorted.

  "Mine?" came the plaintive cry. "I know nothing whatever about it. That painting was all wrapped up. How did I know Charlie would start prying?"

  "You knew all right," muttered Uncle Paton. Having gotten everyone into the kitchen, he slammed the door.

  "I'll make some sandwiches," said Maisie in her soothing, matter-of-fact voice.

  Everyone sat at the kitchen table while Maisie started slicing bread. Uncle Paton paced up and down, pinching his chin and scratching his head.

  "Charlie, aren't you going to tell us what happened?" Olivia demanded.

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  Charlie looked at Benjamin, sitting hunched at the end of the table. "OK... if you all want to know."

  "Of course we do," said Fidelio. "That's why we're here."

  "It was weird," Charlie began, with another glance in Benjamin's direction. "I was just standing there, looking at the painting, when I felt myself being kind of dragged toward it. It was all wrapped up, but I heard a sound coming from it - the wind."

  "The wind?" Uncle Paton stopped pacing and came to sit at the table.

  "Go on," urged Olivia.

  "So I unwrapped the painting, just a bit, and then suddenly I was there. I hardly traveled at all. It was as if the painting reached out and sucked me in." Charlie looked around at the expectant faces; even Benjamin was staring at him.

  "Yes," Uncle Paton prompted, "and then?"

  "And then I met a giant."

  "A GIANT!" everyone exclaimed, including Maisie,

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  who squeaked as well, having accidentally slammed her fingers in the fridge.

  "A sort of giant," Charlie amended. He went on to tell them about Oddthumb and the troll army, about the squirras and blancavamps, the black fortress on the mountain, and finally, how Runner Bean had arrived, with Charlie's moth hidden in his ear.

  Not once during Charlie's long account did anyone say a word, and when he came to the end, such a deep silence had fallen in the room that no one seemed inclined to break it until Benjamin said, very softly, "What will happen to Runner if the trolls want his fur?"