Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock (Children of the Red King, Book 7) (20 page)

"When I went to the castle," Charlie continued, "there was a wall that showed me a time picture, not a painting but, well, it was like a memory, like the walls had kept the memory of the people who lived there. I saw a family: Amadis and his wife and children, and a beautiful woman with black hair ..."

"Yes, yes!" Otus exclaimed.

"And they called her Amoret."

"And you saw her... truly?"

"She talked to me." Charlie looked into the giant's incredulous face. "I went in."

"You went... in?" Otus lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. He looked at the shelves of books, the pictures, and the calendar. He looked at Uncle Paton's desk with its jars of pens and pencils, and he didn't seem surprised by any of it. "So you could take me?" he said.

"I think I could, with Claerwen's help. After all, she was a magician's wand. The magician that sent the snow, I think."

The giant stood up, and the bedsprings twanged into place again. "When do we travel?" he asked.

"Urn ... I haven't told my uncle yet," said Charlie. "It'll be up to him."

Uncle Paton opened the door just then, and said, "We've got a visitor."

Mrs. Kettle, carrying a large basket, pushed past him into the room. She gave a little start when she saw the giant's face so very far above her, and the giant, obligingly, sat down again.

"I'm so very thrilled to meet you, Mr. Yewbeam." She held out her hand. The giant took it and leaned forward, bending his head as though he would have made a bow, if he'd been standing up.

"My name is Mrs. Kettle," the blacksmith went on, "and I've been caring for... ah, there he is." She spied the blue boa, curled up on a pile of Uncle Paton's clothes.

"Come on, Solomon darling, time to go home."

"A wondrous snake," Otus remarked as Mrs. Kettle approached the boa with her basket.

"I wouldn't like him to get into the wrong hands," said Mrs. Kettle, helping the snake to curl himself into the basket. "There." She closed the lid and smiled around at everyone. "Well, this is a most incredible event, and I am very happy to be part of it. There is some good news that I don't suppose Lysander told you, Charlie."

Charlie shrugged.

"No, I thought not. I imagine it's been very busy here." She glanced at the giant. "Anyway, Gabriel Silk has obtained so many signatures on his petition for reopening the Pets' Cafe, it is likely that the Onimouses will be successful."

Instead of giving her a happy smile, Charlie suddenly leaped up, clapping his hand to his head. "Oh, no!" he cried. "I've remembered."

"What have you remembered?" Paton came farther into the room and closed the door.

The giant stared anxiously at Charlie as he paced toward the window. "Norton Cross, the doorman at the Pets' Cafe," he said. "I saw him in the Chapel. He must be one of the shadow's followers. Perhaps he even caused the Onimouses' accident."

"We'll just make sure he doesn't go back there, my dear," said Mrs. Kettle calmly.

"You don't understand" - Charlie clutched his tangled hair - "I told Mr. Bittermouse to contact Norton, to help with repairing his door. And now I've put him in danger."

"He was in danger already, Charlie," said Mrs. Kettle. "But we'll make sure that he's safe. Don't you worry about it. You've got enough on your plate." She smiled at the giant who was sitting very still with a faraway look in his eyes. "I mean no offense, Mr. Yewbeam, but I'm sure Charlie's been making plans for you."

"Er, yes," Charlie muttered.

"And what are they, my dear? Will you let me into your secrets?"

"Urn... ," began Charlie.

The giant said, "He is taking me to my wife."

Not by a single twitch did Mrs. Kettle show her surprise. "How wonderful," she said. "I'll be off now and let you get on with things. Good luck all." She slipped out, closing the door very quietly behind her.

Unfortunately, Uncle Paton was so flabbergasted, he staggered to a chair and sat down rather heavily. "Can I believe my ears, Charlie? Did you tell Mr. Yewbeam here that you were taking him to see his wife?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before," said Charlie.

"But..." Paton looked at the giant and shook his head.

Charlie felt deflated and helpless. It was several seconds before he realized that the giant was speaking. Otus Yewbeam's deep voice stole so softly into the room, Charlie and his uncle felt they were listening to a voice from another world.

"I know what awaits me, sir. I know the fire was fierce and that Amoret died most horribly. I have known this for many years. I have thought of it every day since I learned the nature of my wife's passing; every day that I spent in that prison, for Badlock is a prison, my friends. And I thank you, most fervently, Charlie, for bringing me out of it. I would not have wished to die there. I know what my end will be if I am with my wife, but one day, one hour, one minute spent with her would, at a stroke, wipe away the memory of all those bitter years. So I beg you, Paton, uncle of Charlie, sir, please help Charlie take me to my wife."

Uncle Paton had been looking at the giant, as though struck by an amazing revelation. "It will be a pleasure," he said.

There was a crash from below as the front door was flung open, and a voice called, "WHERE IS IT, THEN? I've heard from my friends on Piminy Street that there is a giant in my house."

"Grandma Bone!" Charlie whispered.

"An ill-disposed voice," remarked the giant.

"Exceedingly ill-disposed," Paton agreed. "But don't let it worry you. Stay here with Charlie. I'll deal with this."

Uncle Paton left the room, calling, "Good afternoon, Grizelda. Are you grumbling again?"

"I most certainly am." She stared up at her brother, her features twisted with spite. "Where is it?"

"IT? IT?" shouted Paton, descending the stairs. "There is no IT here, unless you mean your sorry self."

Grandma Bone stamped her foot. "Don't try and be clever, Paton. I won't have it in my house."

"YOUR house, Grizelda?" Paton poked her in the chest. "YOUR house? It's half mine, and I won't have you poking your nose into my business."

"Don't do that!" Grandma Bone found herself backing down the hallway as Paton poked and poked at her.

"Stop it," she shrieked.

They had reached the cellar, and in one swift movement, Paton opened the door and pushed her in. She slipped down the first two steps, steadied herself and screamed, "HELP!"

Paton slammed the door. As the key was not readily available, he quickly pushed a heavy oak chest in front of the door.

"What's going on?" asked Maisie, looking at Paton in alarm.

"I've temporarily imprisoned my sister," Paton told her. "Don't worry, Maisie. She'll lose her voice in a minute. We've got a very long journey ahead of us, so I'd like you to make sure Grizelda stays put until we get back."

"Are you taking" - she hesitated and looked up the stairs - "the other Mr. Yewbeam?"

"We are indeed. We are taking him somewhere safe."

"I'm so glad. I was very worried about him. But I thought that little Billy would be coming back? Is he still... there?"

"Still there, Maisie." Paton frowned. "And I'm not sure how we'll get him out."

"But you will get him out," said Maisie sternly.

The light was already leaving the sky. Soon it would be dark. Uncle Paton decided he would have to put out the streetlight if the giant wasn't to attract too much attention when he left the house.

The giant waited patiently on Uncle Paton's bed. He had fallen silent, and a mysterious half-smile touched the corners of his mouth. Was he thinking of the past? Charlie wondered. Or was he imagining the moment when he would see Amoret again? The house was very quiet. Grandma Bone had stopped screaming, just as Paton had predicted.

When the first star showed, Paton put on his black fedora and stepped down into the street. With his hand on the lamppost, he murmured, "Let it happen then, but quietly, please."

There was a small popping noise; the lamp went out and Paton's fedora was covered in a silver dust. "Many thanks," he said, though he wasn't sure who or what he was thanking. He removed his hat and shook the glass fragments into the street.

Watching from the window, Charlie saw his uncle open the back doors of the camper van and slide the carpet back into place.

"It's time to go," Charlie told the giant.

Otus stood up and stretched his arms, scraping his knuckles on the ceiling. He laughed and said, "This house would never suit me, Charlie Bone."

"No," said Charlie. "They don't make houses for giants anymore."

"They never did," said Otus.

The giant's heavy feet thumped on the stairs, as he followed Charlie downstairs. Maisie handed him a box of food and he made a low bow.

"Good luck, Mr. Yewbeam," she said. "I wish we could have spent a bit more time together."

"I agree, my lady," said Otus, tucking the box under his arm. "You are very gracious." He took her hand and planted a kiss on it.

"How chivalrous," said Maisie, blushing.

"Hurry up," called Uncle Paton.

Otus walked down the steps and then stood on the sidewalk, gazing at the passing cars, the streetlights, and the lit-up houses. An airplane passed overhead, its taillight twinkling among the stars.

"Oh," sighed the giant. "What a wondrous thing this new world is. I wish I had known it better."

Charlie took the box and put it in the back of the van. "It's time to go, Otus," he said quietly. "I'm afraid we'll have to travel in this machine again."

"I am not afraid." The giant took a large step into the back of the van and Charlie closed the doors. Uncle Paton started the engine and Charlie climbed up beside him.

Maisie stood waving from the door as though she might never see them again. But Charlie's confidence didn't waver until they drove out of the city and into the night. And then a voice in his head began to ask, "What if I fail? What then?"

CHAPTER 20

AMORET

T he way to the Castle of Mirrors was long and difficult, but after his last journey there Uncle Paton had made a map of the route. The road followed the river for a while, and then at a crossroads five miles outside the city, they turned onto the coast road. Otus had never seen the castle though he had heard much about it.

"They said it was the finest castle in the world," the giant's voice rumbled softly from the back of the van. "Borlath, the eldest prince, envied Amadis in all things, and the shadow stoked the fires of his envy. Anything Borlath could not have, he destroyed."

After a long pause Charlie asked, "Where did you live, Otus?"

The giant chuckled. "I was born in a house of living yew trees. My father dug a pit in the center of an ancient grove. So wide were those yews it needed but a few beams driven between them to give us our walls. Above we had a roof of hides, tied to the highest branches. We never touched the leaves or berries for they were poisonous, but they kept the wolves at bay."

"Yewbeam," Charlie murmured. "So that's how the name began."

"Aye," said the giant.

"Well, I never found that out," Paton declared, "in all my years of research. How very interesting. And did your wife live in this house of yew?"

"Mercy, no." Otus sounded quite indignant. "I built my Amoret a fine house from stone and pine with bleached walls and a floor of slate."

"Naturally." Paton gave a small apologetic cough.

After this they all fell silent and Charlie drifted off to sleep. When he woke up, they were driving through a valley. On either side, mountains rose, dark and sheer, into the moonlit clouds. A flash of white caught Charlie's eye and he looked into the side mirror. His heart missed a beat, for there, reflected in the mirror, was a white horse. Behind the flowing white mane sat a knight in armor.

"They're here," said Charlie. "The queen and the Red Knight. They're following us."

"Are you sure?" Paton frowned at the mirror. "Ye gods, Charlie, you're right."

"The queen?" Otus heaved himself to the small window in the back door, and the van rattled and shuddered. "I see no queen; there is but a knight and his horse."

Charlie realized that, to Otus, a knight on horseback was quite an everyday sight. "It isn't an ordinary horse," said Charlie, and he explained how Ezekiel Bloor had unintentionally brought Queen Berenice back to life, in the body of her favorite mare. "He's not a very good magician," Charlie went on. "He meant to bring Borlath into the world again."

"Be thankful of the mistake," grunted Otus.

For the rest of the journey, Charlie drifted in and out of sleep, and in his waking moments, the knight and his white horse were almost always there; if he couldn't see them in the mirror, he would hear the hoofbeats, not too far behind. When the moon was at its zenith, they parked beside a cliff and ate some of Maisie's food. Then Uncle Paton slept for a while before driving the last few miles.

They turned off the main road at dawn and parked on a path that led to the sea.

"I believe this is the place," said Uncle Paton. He climbed out of the van and stretched, breathing in the sea air.

Charlie got out and ran to open the doors for Otus. He found that the giant was still fast asleep. The big man lay curled on the floor, with his cheek resting on his hands.

"Otus!" Charlie shook the giant's foot.

Otus opened his eyes, sat up and gave Charlie a broad smile. "I think this day will be kind to us, Charlie," he said, levering himself out of the van. Then, seeing a faint blue line of water beyond the cliff, he ran to the edge, while Paton shouted at him to be careful. Otus was a heavy man and the cliff had already subsided in several places.

"Where is the castle?" cried Otus. "I do not see it."

Charlie came to stand beside him. A feathery mist covered the sea and Charlie remembered that this had happened before. "It is there, I promise you, Otus," he said. "When the sun burns through the mist, we'll see it."

"It's happening." Uncle Paton had joined them, and in a few minutes, all three saw an island emerge half a mile out to sea. "The Island of a Thousand Blues," said Uncle Paton. "Soon we'll see its crown."

The giant clutched his chest. His heart was beating so fast and loud, Charlie was afraid that it might stop altogether. Gradually, the mist evaporated and small patches glittered in the light. As the sun rose higher, the last traces of mist melted away and the castle of shining glass appeared.

"Ahh!" breathed the giant. "It is there." He began to stride down the perilous path to the beach while

Charlie and his uncle slipped and staggered in his wake.

"There is a boat, kept in a cave," said Uncle Paton, "but" - he looked at the giant - "I'm not sure that it'll take your weight, Otus."

The giant opened his mouth and let forth a great gust of laughter. "A boat? I do not need a boat, Paton," he roared, and without another word, he rushed into the sea. His joyful laughter echoed back to the beach as he strode through the waves, and then he was treading water, his white head bobbing among the seagulls that floated on the surface.

"We'd better get that boat," said Uncle Paton.

The boat was just where Charlie had found it before - at the back of a deep cave. They soon had it afloat and Uncle Paton, his back to the castle, rowed as fast as he could while Charlie gave directions. When they reached the island, the giant was sitting on the shell-covered beach, wringing water out of his shoes.

Uncle Paton chose to stay with the boat, while

Charlie took Otus up to the castle. The sun had risen, and Charlie and the giant could not look at the blazing glass as they tramped through the stony scrubland that surrounded the castle. They walked around to the north, where the sun couldn't reach the mirrored walls, and the giant had another good laugh at their reflections, one almost twice the size of the others.

There was no door. They had to squeeze through a narrow tunnel that led under the walls. Twice the giant got stuck, but his laughter only increased as he heaved and struggled to get himself free. At last they stood in a wide courtyard paved with shining cobblestones. In the center, a flight of steps led up to a door in the keep: a tall square tower.

"The walls of history are up there." Charlie pointed to the top of the tower.

"And that is where we shall say farewell," said Otus.

The steps were made of coarse glass and they climbed up to the door without slipping. The room they entered was walled in long rectangles of misty glass, and their reflections became colored fragments that wavered and parted whenever they moved.

Beside the door a staircase led to the top of the tower. "I'll go first," said Charlie. "It's a long climb."

The giant smiled and tapped Charlie's shoulder. "Lead on, Charlie."

The steps were narrow and uneven, and Charlie wondered how the giant would manage as the stairway wound upward. Claerwen flew out of Charlie's pocket and lit the way, or they would have been climbing in the dark. Charlie could hear the giant grunting and shuffling as he hauled himself up the rough glass steps, and then, at last, they were in the extraordinary room at the top of the tower where Claerwen's light was reflected a thousand times, bouncing from wall to wall, on and on, through the shining glass.

"Where is Amoret?" Otus whispered.

Charlie wanted to tell the giant to have patience, but couldn't bring himself to utter a word. He felt anxious and afraid. Suppose the walls had lost their memory, suppose there was nothing there? "I can travel," he' told himself, "and Claerwen is Mathonwy's wand."

Deep in the shimmering glass before him a fragment of color moved, a soft red. A hint of green appeared, followed by a brown and a mellow gold. And now the fair-haired Amadis could be seen in his silver-gray armor.

Still gazing at the wall, Charlie reached for Otus with his left hand. The giant's fingers closed over his. Now holding out his right hand, Charlie said, "Claerwen,
dwi isie mynd mewn."

The white moth fluttered onto Charlie's forefinger, and he began to move closer and closer to the tantalizing shapes and colors through a fog of stifling air, through clear then stormy weather, on and on, his face now warmed by the sun, now brushed with snow. He could feel the giant's fingers crushing his own, and then as though breaking through the surface of a frozen pond, Charlie found himself in that ancient room again.

They were sitting at a table, just as they had been before: Prince Amadis at the head, his wife and daughter gazing at Charlie. Another child sat with his back to Charlie; the third, with hair as white as snow, turned to look at him. And then Charlie saw Amoret; she was standing beside Amadis, her black hair framing a sad, pale face.

High above him Charlie heard a voice call, "Amoret!"

She looked up and a smile of astonishment lit her face.

Charlie felt the giant's fingers slipping away from him and he knew he must go back. "Let's go," he said, bringing Claerwen closer to his face.
"Gad'nifynd."

As he floated away from the scene, he saw a tall young man take Amoret in his arms. He swung her around and the hem of her red dress swirled over his hands. She buried her head in his shoulder and he laughed with happiness. The man had chestnut hair and strong, handsome features. He was exceptionally tall - a giant, in fact.

Before Charlie lost sight of them, the giant caught his eye and deep, muffled words broke through the waves of time. "I thank thee."

And then Charlie was alone in the room where the shining walls of history kept their secrets. He should have felt elated. He did, he told himself, for he had been successful, and yet as he stumbled down the narrow stairway, a sense of failure spoiled his happiness. The last time he had been in the Castle of Mirrors, Billy had been with him.

Charlie stepped into the room where he had met the man he had mistakenly thought to be his father. "Why are you never here, Dad?" he said to his own reflection in the mirrored walls.

Claerwen fluttered to the door and Charlie followed her, down the rough glass steps, across the glittering courtyard, and into the tunnel under the walls.

Uncle Paton was sitting on a rock, close to the boat. When he saw that Charlie was alone, he stood up and waved. "You were successful, then," he called.

Charlie nodded.

"You seem unsure," said Uncle Paton when Charlie reached the boat. "Didn't things go according to plan?"

"Yes," said Charlie. "It was fantastic. Otus was young again and Amoret was smiling."

"Well done." His uncle patted him on the shoulder. "I have to admit I had my doubts. It was an extraordinary undertaking. You're tired, I expect."

"A bit," said Charlie.

They got into the boat and Uncle Paton began to row away from the island. They hadn't gone far when a huge wave slapped the side of the boat, tipping it dangerously. The sun had disappeared and the sky was filled with dark, angry clouds. There was a sudden crack of thunder, followed by a torrent of rain.

"Dagbert didn't follow us, did he?" Charlie looked at the heaving waves.

"Could be the other one, his father," said Paton. "Mrs. Tilpin and the shadow have been gathering their forces, no doubt."

And they'll be angry about what I've done,
thought Charlie.

The waves rose higher; great walls of water lifted the flimsy boat and tossed it down as though it were a toy.

"I should have thought of life jackets," shouted Uncle Paton through the roar of water.

The next wave sent the boat rolling onto its side. Charlie lost his grip and felt himself sliding into the sea.
He's not going to let me get away with it,
he thought as the waves closed over his head.
But at least I got one thing right.

"Charlie! Charlie, hang on!"

As he came up for air, Uncle Paton grabbed his wrist. "Come on, come on, Charlie. Don't let go," he shouted. "We'll get there, don't give up."

Charlie felt his uncle's hands pulling the back of his jacket, but the waves kept washing over his head, and he knew that they wanted to drown him. And then, beneath his feet, the water began to force him upward. A strong current wrapped itself around his legs and held him steady. Gradually, his body was carried upward, and as he scrambled to get a hold on the boat, he was firmly thrust over the side.

Uncle Paton picked up the oars and smiled down at Charlie, who was lying on the bottom of the boat. "We'll get there, Charlie," he said.

Hauling himself onto the seat, Charlie saw that they were moving through a wide path of smooth, tranquil sea. On either side the waves still rose and fell in threatening banks of water, but they seemed incapable of touching the boat.

The sea around the boat sparkled in sunlight, and in the same bright rays, Charlie suddenly saw the figure on the cliff. His windblown cloak and feathers looked like a burning cloud.

"The Red Knight," cried Charlie.

"What was that?" called Uncle Paton, pulling on the oars. His coat was soaking, Charlie noticed.

"It's the knight. The Red Knight. I think he saved us."

Uncle Paton looked over his shoulder. "I can see him now. Perhaps you're right, Charlie."

I know I am,
thought Charlie.
The Red Knight saved us.

Their passage was smooth from then on. They reached the shore and drew the boat into the cave. Charlie felt he would never make it up the steep cliff path, but with Uncle Paton's persuasive voice urging him on, he eventually tumbled onto the wet grass at the top.

The Red Knight had gone.

"What happened to his horse?" Uncle Paton wondered aloud.

"She can't look at the island where her children died," Charlie told his uncle.

Uncle Paton frowned. "How would you know that?"

"Billy understands her."

"Ah, Billy," said Uncle Paton.

"I wish I could have brought him back, Uncle P., but he's spellbound. I know it."