Charlie Bone And The Red Knight (Children Of The Red King, Book 8) (7 page)

7

OLIVIA AND THE GARGOYLE

The silence lasted only a few seconds, but in that time so many thoughts swept through Charlie's head, he began to feel dizzy. In his mind's eye he saw Billy wandering endlessly through the enchanter's forest; and he saw a wooden box, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, a box that held a secret that could change the lives of everyone he knew.

Grandma Bone's voice reached Charlie as from a great distance. "What's wrong with you, boy? Pull yourself together."

"I am, I am," murmured Charlie, just managing to focus on the pale face that loomed above him.

"What's in your mind?" asked Grandma Bone.

"Nothing," said Charlie.

"Well, Eustacia?" Grandma Bone turned to her sister.

"He was thinking of Billy," said Eustacia, "and the box."

Charlie was rattled. Eustacia was in top form today. "I've never seen the box," he cried. "Well, not the box you mean," he ended lamely.

"Charlie, where's your father?" asked Eustacia, coming to stand beside her sister.

"I don't know, do I? I don't know any more than you do. He's whale watching."

"But when you think about him, what do you see?" Eustacia leaned very close to Charlie, and he flinched at her stale breath.

"Nothing," he said.

"We know you have a gift, Charlie," his grandmother snorted angrily. "We know you can see your father in your mind's eye when you think hard enough. Stop dissembling."

"I don't know what you mean," said Charlie.
They must never know about the boat,
he thought. And he filled his mind with pictures of his friends: Benjamin and Runner Bean, Fidelio, Olivia and Lysander...

"Well?" Grandma Bone looked at Eustacia.

"Rubbish," said Eustacia. "His mind is filled with rubbish."

Grandma Bone grabbed Charlie's arm and drew him into the kitchen, where she sat him down and made him drink a cup of cold milk. A plate of cheese and crackers was put before him, and Grandma Bone said, "Get it down you. We're all going out."

"But --" Charlie began.

"No buts," she snapped.

Grandma Bone's three sisters crowded into the kitchen. They paced around the table, looking at Charlie. Great-aunt Eustacia never took her eyes off him. Perhaps she was still trying to read his mind. He must keep the name of the boat from her, the name on the side of a boat that rode the dangerous sea. For if the name reached Lord Grimwald, there was no knowing what he might do.

"Maisie's not back," Charlie said, through a mouthful of dry crackers. "If I go out again, she'll wonder where I am."

"We'll leave a note," said his grandmother.

"Uncle Paton's not here," cried Charlie desperately. "My parents said that he was in charge."

"They were wrong," said Great-aunt Lucretia coldly. "We're your guardians now."

"That's not true!" retorted Charlie.

"You're coming to Darkly Wynd with us, and there's an end to it." Great-aunt Venetia whisked away the plate of half-eaten crackers. "And we have to go now. My little boy needs me."

Venetia's stepson, spiteful little Eric, had never needed anyone as far as Charlie knew. He spent his time animating stone figures, a dangerous talent, often ending in disaster for his unsuspecting victims.

"I don't understand why I have to go to Darkly Wynd." Charlie twisted nervously in his chair as Grandma Bone snatched his cup and poured the rest of his milk down the drain.

"We want to ask you some questions," said Great-aunt Eustacia.

"Can't you ask your questions here?" Charlie knew the answer as soon as he saw the cold, closed-in look on Grandma Bone's hard face. They couldn't risk being interrupted by Maisie or Uncle Paton. And that meant they were going to give him a real grilling.

Charlie knew it would be useless to resist. He could kick and scream, but they would get him to Darkly Wynd in the end and he would have wasted precious energy. He needed all his strength to fight Great-aunt Eustacia's clairvoyance. And now that he thought about it, he almost looked forward to the challenge.

The four sisters frog-marched Charlie out of the house and down the steps. He was bundled into the back of Great-aunt Eustacia's car, where he sat squeezed uncomfortably between the bony thighs of Lucretia and Venetia.

Eustacia drove very badly. She was forever bumping onto the curb and lurching recklessly around corners. After driving much too fast down a narrow alley, she braked, with a screech, in front of a long cobblestone yard. They had reached Darkly Wynd.

Three tall houses stood in a row at the far end of the yard. They had steep turrets and wrought-iron balconies, and their narrow arched windows were framed by carved stone creatures: gnomes, gargoyles, and unlikely beasts. All three houses were numbered thirteen.

The smaller houses on either side of the courtyard appeared to be deserted; their windows were boarded up, their steps covered in moss. Some grim force had driven the occupants away, a force that was evidently not strong enough to dislodge the Yewbeam sisters, unless it was they themselves who had caused the exodus.

Venetia's house, on the right, looked in better condition than the other two. Since the fire in her house a year ago, the slates on the steep, sloping roof had been replaced and her front door had been freshly painted.

At the top of the steps stood a squat stone troll. Charlie kept an eye on it as he passed. Eric liked to animate the thing, and Charlie didn't want to be knocked flat before his interrogation began.

Venetia unlocked the door and led the way into a dark hall. It had a pungent, bitter smell. A huge gold-framed mirror, hanging on one side, reflected the long coatrack on the other. The rack was filled with garments of every size and description, and Charlie didn't need reminding that Venetia could bewitch her victims with clothing. The collars and cuffs, buttons and belts of these exotic-looking outfits were, in all probability, impregnated with poison. Charlie gave a shudder and kept as far away from them as possible.

They walked in single file down a long corridor beside the staircase. Venetia led the way, followed by Charlie, who was prodded in the back by Grandma Bone's sharp nails every time he hesitated.

Charlie had never been inside any of the three number thirteens. He had looked through their windows and, secretly, crept into their back gardens, but none of his great-aunts had ever asked him into their home. And Charlie had certainly never wanted an invitation.

"Here we are!" Venetia opened a door on the left of the hallway, and Grandma Bone pushed Charlie into a large, gloomy room. An oval table stood in the center, and huge glass-fronted cabinets filled the entire wall opposite the door. Charlie gave an involuntary gasp when he saw the figure standing in the bay window.

Manfred Bloor wore an expression of malicious amusement. "Didn't expect this, did you, Charlie?" he said.

So that's why they brought me here,
thought Charlie. They needed Manfred's help. And he wondered how often Manfred visited the Yewbeams. Grandma Bone was prodding him again. His back probably resembled a Dalmatian's by now, with all those black bruises. In spite of his precarious situation, Charlie couldn't help grinning.

"What are you smiling at?" Manfred asked coldly.

"It's not a smile, actually," said Charlie. "It's a wince."

Having prodded her grandson into a chair at the table, Grandma Bone and her sisters began arguing over the seating arrangements. Eustacia was going to be working, therefore her needs were a priority. So Charlie found himself sitting opposite Manfred and beside Eustacia, who was at the head of the table with her back to the window. Grandma Bone sat on Charlie's other side, with Venetia directly opposite. Lucretia didn't sit, because she hadn't gotten the chair she wanted. She stood by the glass cabinet, regarding the shelves of labeled bottles and talking to herself.

"Where's Eric?" asked Charlie, hoping to delay the proceedings.

A forlorn hope.

"He's outside," snapped Venetia.

Charlie craned sideways, tipping his chair, and looked down into the lamplit garden. What he saw there gave him another shock.

Lumbering between bushes of bright winter berries were stone figures, pale as ghosts: hideous beings carrying stone clubs, knights in armor, horses, goblins, trolls, and massive dogs all moving in slow deliberate steps. And there was Eric, sitting on a stone head, a small, skinny boy with a sickly color. His head twisted this way and that, and his right hand swung back and forth across his body, as though he were orchestrating the movements of an army.

"Sit up!" Eustacia ordered, and Charlie lurched back, almost tipping his chair too far in the other direction.

"Impressive, eh?" said Manfred with a smile. "Our little Eric's coming on a treat."

Charlie didn't bother to reply. Manfred's black eyes held a chilling shine, and Charlie knew that all the will his mind possessed must be used in the next few minutes.

He lifted his gaze to the top shelf of the cabinet and started counting bottles.

"Look at me," Manfred demanded.

Charlie kept his eyes on the row of dark bottles: green, red, brown, and blue. How many fatal potions did Venetia keep? One, two, three...

"Look at me." Manfred's voice had taken on a fatal silkiness. Try as he might, Charlie couldn't resist it. He found his gaze drifting down to Manfred again, and he remembered the first time that Manfred had tried to hypnotize him. Charlie had fought him then. He had looked into the treacherous black eyes and then into the mind behind them.

Charlie met Manfred's gaze. He looked at him steadily and tried to read his thoughts.

"Stop that!" said Manfred.

"What?" said Charlie.

"You're trying to block me. Well, you won't get away with it this time." Manfred leaned across the table. His face came closer and closer. So close that Charlie could see the deadly glitter at the center of those dark eyes. He felt as though he were falling into them. All he wanted was to escape, to close his eyes, to sleep. Desperately, he tried to avoid the images that crowded into his head.
I mustn't, I mustn't,
he thought. But it was no use. He saw the boat
Greywing.
He saw the heaving foamy sea and a night sky crammed with stars.

"What does he see?" Grandma Bone's voice was very faint.

Eustacia's answer was even fainter. "A boat called
Greywing...
sunrise... whales calling ... a night sky, but... aha... the constellations are upside down."

The voice droned on and on, and Charlie was powerless. He could neither move nor open his eyes. They were asking him another question now. A question he couldn't answer.

"Who is the Red Knight, Charlie?"

"I don't know."

"We think you do."

"No."

"Who is he?"

"The Red King."

"Not true. Concentrate, Charlie."

Charlie's head drooped. He tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. He found himself thinking of the stranger that came to Gabriel's moonlit yard, the stranger in a dark, heavy coat who carried the Red King's cloak away. Did Charlie know anyone who wore a coat like this? No. No one, except... except... Manfred's grandfather Bartholomew Bloor. He was utterly different from the other Bloors. He had even helped Charlie to find his father. Before Charlie could prevent it, an image came into his mind. The last time he had seen Bartholomew Bloor, he had been wearing a similar dark blue, thick coat.

Eustacia's muffled voice said, "Aha!"

A loud bark broke into Charlie's thoughts. He raised his head. The dog must have been at the front of the house, but its bark came ringing down the hall. Charlie didn't know that Benjamin had lifted the flap on the letterbox, and Runner Bean was barking right through it.

Charlie's eyes flew open. Manfred had straightened up, but Eustacia sat in a confused silence, gazing at the table.

"Snap out of it, Stace!" Grandma Bone clicked her fingers close to Eustacia's nose, and Eustacia frowned up at her. "Well done, we got what we wanted."

"There's more," mumbled Eustacia.

"And there's a stupid dog at the door," shouted Venetia. "We'll have to deal with it." She rushed out, followed by Lucretia and Grandma Bone.

"I think Eric's already dealing with it," Manfred said easily.

Charlie leaped up and ran blindly toward the front door. He had to blink several times before he could focus properly, but when the hypnotic haze had lifted he saw that Eric was standing in the open doorway with Venetia at his side.

There was a loud thump and then another. Someone screamed and a dog howled. When Charlie had pushed his way past Venetia, he saw Benjamin, Runner Bean, and Olivia trying to dodge the stone gargoyles that came flying at them from the wall. Eric was enjoying himself. He gave a little jump for joy every time a gargoyle came loose and crashed onto the pavement.

"That's enough, Eric," said Venetia. "You'll ruin the house."

"Charlie, get out of there!" cried Olivia.

Charlie was already bounding down the steps. "Run, Liv! I'm right behind you!" he shouted.

A stone gargoyle came flying after him and caught his heel. Runner Bean bounced around him, barking furiously.

"Eric, enough!" Venetia commanded.

"Let's get out of here!" yelled Benjamin. "Runner! Here, boy! Quick!"

The four children raced away from the three number thirteens.

If they had all kept running they would have escaped with a few bruises, but then something happened. And for one of them, nothing would ever be quite the same again.

Olivia suddenly turned around. She picked up the headless body of a broken gargoyle and was about to throw it back at Eric when, horribly, it stretched out a puny arm and grabbed her wrist. Olivia let out a shriek that brought the boys to a skidding halt. They ran to help her, tugging at the squirming stone body, pulling its legs and trying to pry the rigid fingers away from Olivia's wrist. Eric began to laugh.

All four sisters had now crowded onto the top step behind Eric. Venetia was laughing. Eustacia and Lucretia joined her and then, in spite of herself, Grandma Bone gave in to a bout of loud, undignified giggling-Olivia glared up at Eric and the four women. She wondered what would frighten them. What would wipe the silly grins off their faces and stop their spiteful giggling. She imagined a tall skeleton in a black hat and cloak, wielding a six-foot saber.