Charlie frowned. "I'm sure he's got all his charms. But he's at risk now. Mrs. Tilpin's going to be furious. I hope he's somewhere safe."
"That sounds a bit odd, coming from you," Gabriel remarked.
Charlie stared into his bowl of soup. "He needs our help," he said.
The storm began when Mr. Pope was halfway through giving a history test. The teacher's heavy-jowled face was always an angry shade of red. Even when he wasn't furious, he was grouchy. The windows in his classroom fitted very badly and on windy days their constant rattle drove Mr. Pope into a frenzy. He would thump his desk and roar out his questions, confusing his class and even himself.
The wind had blown up from nowhere. One minute the air was calm, the next, hail was beating on the windowpanes, thunderclaps reverberating through the building, and the draft from the ill-fitting windows whipped spitefully around everyone's legs.
"How am I supposed to teach in a storm like this?" screeched Mr. Pope. "I'm going to stop this test and go home if it continues."
Realizing that he'd said something silly because, of course, no one would have minded if he went home, Mr. Pope muttered, "I suppose you have all heard about the storms at sea? No, I suppose you haven't." Televisions and radios were allowed only in the sixth year. "Well, I shall enlighten you." There was another deafening clap of thunder, and Mr. Pope looked up to heaven. When the thunder had rumbled away, he said, "Severe weather in the southern hemisphere has caused havoc on the coasts. Many drowned. Ships wrecked. Boats lost." His last words were shouted above another violent rumble.
Charlie put up his hand.
"What is it, Charlie Bone?" Mr. Pope asked irritably.
"Did you say boats, sir?" asked Charlie.
"Yes, BOATS! Are you deaf?" Mr. Pope bellowed. "The storms have been appalling. Waves a hundred feet high. Wouldn't fancy my odds in a boat. They don't stand a chance." He nodded at the rattling window. "Mind you, this is just a breeze compared with the tempests out at sea. But that's no consolation when you've GOT TO TEACH HISTORY TO A GROUP OF NITWITS!" And with that, Mr. Pope gathered up his books and strode out of the classroom, banging the door behind him.
As soon as the teacher had gone, Simon Hawke leaped up from his desk, yawned, stretched, and said, "We've got twenty minutes before the next lesson. Let's do some push-ups."
Boys groaned and girls made scornful remarks. Undeterred, cheerful Simon spread himself on the floor and began to do his exercises.
Fidelio leaned over to Charlie, saying, "Let's go."
They left the classroom together. Their next lesson was music. Fidelio had violin with Mr. O'Connor. Charlie was due to see Señor Alvaro. With twenty minutes to spare they decided to go and see Cook. They hurried across the hall and down the corridor of portraits, but Charlie slowed down and then stopped altogether beside the portrait of Ashkelan Kapaldi. He leaned closer, staring at the eyes. "I can't see that it's changed," he said.
Fidelio grabbed the back of his cape. "You'll be in there with him if you don't look out," he said. "Don't forget, Gabe's kind of clairvoyant. Come on, we've only got fifteen minutes now."
They had almost reached the blue cafeteria when Dr. Saltweather came striding out and asked them what they were doing. Fidelio explained that Mr. Pope couldn't teach in a storm. The music master smiled. "If he thinks this is bad, he should try a bit of sea fishing," he said, and then he glanced at Charlie.
"Is it really that bad?" asked Charlie.
Dr. Saltweather nodded. "I'm afraid it is, Charlie."
Charlie swallowed. He could taste the tomato soup he'd had for lunch, and hoped he wasn't going to be sick. "My parents are whale watching, sir."
"I know, Charlie," said the music master.
"Do you think..."
Fidelio broke in, saying, "Do you know about the Sea Globe, sir?"
Charlie stared at Fidelio, surprised that he had mentioned the Sea Globe to a master. Dr. Saltweather frowned for a moment, then he said, "I have heard that it is here."
"And do you believe that Lord Grimwald can control the oceans with it?" Charlie blurted out.
Dr. Saltweather took a deep breath before saying, "How could I not believe, Charlie? Cook is my friend." He marched off down the hallway, his hands clasped behind his back and his big head bent.
"Can you help, sir?" Charlie called after him. "Can you stop him?"
Dr. Saltweather murmured softly in reply, and then turned down another hall.
Charlie clutched Fidelio's arm. "What did he say? Did you hear?"
Fidelio's musical ear had picked up the music master's rueful answer. "I think he said, "Only the son can do that.""
"He means Dagbert," said Charlie, "and Dagbert will do it."
"What makes you think that?"
Charlie shrugged. "We have to find him, Fido."
But where to look?
Charlie had an idea, but he had to wait until lessons were over before he could find out if he was right. Fidelio had orchestra practice, but he offered to give it up to help his friend. Charlie insisted that it was only a hunch, and one pair of eyes was enough to find someone.
"So where are you going?" asked Fidelio.
"The Music Tower," Charlie told him.
It was called the Music Tower because once Charlie's father had taught piano in the room at the very top. To reach it, Charlie had to go down the same dark hallway that led to the ballroom. The
Music Tower was out of bounds now and Charlie had to choose the right moment to make a dash for the small door into the hallway. He waited in the blue coatroom while shoes were changed and wet capes shaken out.
"You OK, Charlie?" Gabriel asked.
Charlie nodded. "I'm going to look for Dagbert," he whispered.
"Want any help?"
"Not yet."
"OK." Gabriel left the coatroom murmuring to himself, "But I'm going to make sure you're not alone."
Gabriel was the last person to leave the coatroom. When he had gone, Charlie peeped into the hall. It appeared to be deserted, so he made a dash for the tower door. Twisting the heavy bronze handle, he pulled open the door and slipped into the hallway. At that very moment Dorcas Loom left the green coatroom. She screwed up her eyes and stared at the closing door. If she was not mistaken, she had just seen Charlie Bone going into the Music Tower. Someone would have to be informed.
Unaware that he'd been spotted, Charlie hurried down the hall. When he came to the ballroom doors he stopped and noted that the heavy bolt at the top had been drawn back. He put his ear to the door. A faint sound reached him: the swish and splash of water, the boom of giant waves rising and falling. And then another sound. A curious humming. Lord Grimwald was humming to the tune of his own drowning seas. Charlie stepped away from the door as though he'd been stung. He clenched his fists, powerless to stop the awful events that Lord Grimwald had set in motion. As he turned to run up the hallway, a figure appeared in the small circular room at the end.
"Dagbert." Charlie spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Where have you been?"
"Thinking," Dagbert replied. "I've got to stop him." He came toward Charlie, holding the sea-gold charms in both hands as though he was afraid that he might drop them.
"How will you do it?" asked Charlie. "The curse, Dagbert -- your father will try and overwhelm you."
"Yes," Dagbert agreed. "But I have to make an attempt. No one else can stop him, and your parents will drown, Charlie."
"They may have drowned already," said Charlie. He was surprised to find that he wanted to give Dagbert a chance to avoid the confrontation with Lord Grimwald.
But Dagbert was determined. "You saved my sea-gold charms and they will stop him. My mother would have wanted it."
The boys stood, side by side, facing the ballroom doors.
"I'm coming with you," said Charlie as Dagbert pushed open one of the tall doors.
Charlie had expected to see a sphere of rolling water, but the sight of the huge globe took his breath away. The glass panels had been rem
oved and the unbridled waves now swept out in gigantic arcs that splashed against the high ceiling.
Lord Grimwald was standing with his back to the boys but turned as soon as they entered. He seemed to be expecting them. "Dagbert," he said. "Welcome. I see you have brought a friend."
Dagbert remained silent. He approached the globe, the charms still held firmly in both hands. Charlie followed, wondering what Dagbert would do.
Lord Grimwald stared at his son's hands and his eyes narrowed. "Give me the charms," he commanded. His voice was soft, but his face was as hard as stone.
Dagbert clasped the charms tighter. He stepped toward the globe, and Charlie followed. Sea spray flew in their faces and soaked their hair.
"Give them to me!" Lord Grimwald's mouth was clenched in a terrible smile. He held out his hand.
Dagbert shook his head.
"Don't come any closer," his father warned. "If you harm the globe, it will destroy you."
All at once Charlie knew what Dagert intended to do. He would throw the golden charms into the sea. Would this calm the giant waves all over the world? Without his mother's protection, Dagbert would die.
"Give them to me," Lord Grimwald demanded, seizing his son's clasped hands.
"No!" cried Dagbert. He fell to his knees, his body hunched over the precious charms.
Snarling with fury, the Lord of the Oceans raised his arm, and a wall of water curled out from the globe. With an angry roar it rose to the ceiling and then began to fall. Charlie found himself enclosed in a tunnel of thundering black water. He fell to his knees beside Dagbert and waited for the roaring wave to crush them. Just before it smothered them, the sound of drums broke through the boom of water. And then Charlie was beaten down by the weight of the wave. He couldn't breathe, his lungs were bursting. He closed his eyes, his head full of shrieking sounds.
And then the weight of water was gone and he opened his eyes. He was lying in a pool of water with Dagbert's blue fist only inches from his face. A golden fish floated through Dagbert's fingers, and Charlie grabbed it before it could be washed away. Black boots splashed toward him. One came down hard on Charlie's hand.
"Ahhh!" Charlie heard his muffled scream through the thunder of drums. The boot lifted from his fingers and Charlie rolled onto his back, still clutching the fish. Dagbert lay beside him; his eyes were closed, his face blue and lifeless. His hands were empty.
"Dagbert!" Charlie screamed, shaking the limp arm.
Dagbert didn't move.
The drumbeats grew louder. Faster. Deeper. They filled the air with their threatening rhythm. Charlie sat up and rubbed his eyes. Lord Grimwald stood a few feet in front of him. His back was toward Charlie, his arms spread wide.
The blue sea light had been replaced by the red and gold of leaping flames. Charlie rose shakily to his feet. Now he could see them: Lysander's spirit ancestors. Tall, dark figures lined the walls. There was not an inch of space between them. Gold adorned their necks and arms, their robes were white, their belts colored like rainbows. Each man held a spear in one hand, a flaming torch in the other.
The drumming came from figures on the stage. Standing two rows deep, they beat their drums with feverish intensity, making the chandelier crystals chime like a thousand tiny bells.
Lysander moved so fast around the great room that Charlie could catch only a glimpse of his dark face and flashing eyes. The graceful whirl of his arms caused his cape to move through the air like a spinning green circle.
Charlie stepped away from the Sea Globe. Now he could see Lord Grimwald's face. It was gray with fury and terror. He lurched from side to side, his arms outstretched protectively, as he backed toward his precious globe.
The lines of warriors began to advance. Closer and closer to the globe. Charlie could feel the heat of their torches. Clouds of steam rose from the globe, and the spirits moved closer still. For a moment Charlie panicked. He didn't know where to go. They were almost upon him, their dark, impassive faces only inches away. And then they were flowing around either side of him, and he could taste the fire and smell the pungent scent of their robes.
They encircled the globe. Closer and closer. Their ranks were four men deep now as the circle became small. And still Lysander whirled, and still the drums beat.
Charlie could no longer see Lord Grimwald. He was trapped in the circle of warriors. They were so densely packed, their torches had become a ring of fire. There was a sudden, awful scream as the Lord of the Oceans was forced into the very seas that he had used to drown so many.
The scream became a gurgle, the gurgle a desperate thrashing, as the Sea Globe churned and boiled and swallowed its master.
Above the rows of spears and torches, Charlie could see the top of the globe. The blue water had turned a dull gray; it was now more steam than water. The patches of brown land were cracking and shrinking. Slowly the globe began to sink. Charlie dropped to his knees, desperate to see what became of it. Through the lines of white robes he glimpsed steaming oceans and scorching land. The Sea Globe was dwindling, sinking, and boiling away.
Minutes after Lord Grimwald's scream, the spirit ancestors still held their lines, and then, slowly, they began to move back. Once more Charlie felt them drift past him. The flames of their long torches were dying now, their white robes fading into clouds of steam. Charlie couldn't say when the drums stopped or when the warriors vanished, because he was staring at the Sea Globe, or rather at the space it had occupied. There was nothing there -- except...
A small glass sphere, slightly larger than a tennis ball, rocked gently to and fro in a pool of water. Dagbert lay beside it.
Charlie felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into Lysander's grave face. "You finished it," Charlie said, hardly able to believe what he had seen.
"There was no other way," said Lysander. He nodded at Dagbert. "But perhaps it was too late for him."
Charlie got up and ran over to Dagbert. His face looked utterly lifeless. And then, suddenly, his eyelids fluttered and his strange arctic eyes stared up at Charlie. "Am I alive?" he croaked.
"YOU are," Charlie said, helping Dagbert to his feet. He pressed the golden fish into his palm and then, seeing the crabs and the sea urchin floating at the edge of the pool, he scooped them up and gave them to Dagbert, saying, "You're safe now."
Dagbert thrust them into his pocket and then stood swaying slightly as he gazed around the ballroom. "Where is it?" he said, turning a full circle and looking down at the water around his feet. "Where's the Sea Globe?"
Lysander picked up the small blue-green sphere. He shook it free of water and handed it to Dagbert. "I think you'll find that this is it," he said.
Dagbert looked utterly bemused. He stared at the tiny globe and then at Lysander. "How did it... ?" he breathed, and then, "Where's my father?"
"The globe swallowed him," said Charlie in a matter-of-fact voice. There didn't seem to be any other way to tell a boy that he was holding his father in his hand.
Dagbert grimaced. "Then he's... ?" He looked at the globe.
"In there," said Charlie.
Dagbert shook the globe and turned it upside down, as though he half expected a tiny version of his father to drop into the puddle. Sparkling sea spray trickled slowly from the top to the bottom, but nothing fell out of the sphere.
"It's quite pretty," Charlie remarked. "Like one of those snowstorms in a glass snow globe."
"A sea storm," Dagbert murmured.
Lysander took Dagbert by the shoulder and nudged him toward the doors. "You can't stay here, Dagbert," he warned. "The Bloors will be furious that Lord Grimwald and his globe have gone. We'll get you out, but then it's up to you."
"Where will I go?" Dagbert asked desperately. "I don't know anyone in the city. I have no family."
Where could Dagbert go? Lysander and Charlie realized that he wouldn't be safe in the fish shop where he stayed on weekends. The Pets' Cafe was closed and he couldn't go to Charlie's house while Grandma Bone was there.
>
"I know!" cried Charlie. "The Kettle Shop. It's only a few doors up from the fish shop where you've been staying."
Lysander looked doubtful. "It's on Piminy Street, Charlie. A nest of vipers, if I may say so."
"I know, I know, but Mrs. Kettle is very strong," Charlie argued. "She's withstood them all so far. And I can't think of anywhere else right now."
For a moment Lysander looked thoughtful.
He stroked his chin in a manner reminiscent of his father, Judge Sage, when he was passing judgment. But whatever objection had passed through Lysander's mind, he quickly banished it and agreed with Charlie. "Tell her you've come from us," he said. "Show her the globe."
"Tell her..." Charlie hesitated. "Say "Matilda" and she'll know you're with us now."
Lysander gave Charlie a questioning look and Dagbert said, "Who's Matilda?"
"Never mind," said Charlie, going pink. "Just say it."
"OK."
They took Dagbert down the hallway and across to the garden door. There was no one about and they realized that the bell for dinner must have rung. The entire school was in the underground dining hall.
"How shall I get out?" Dagbert looked utterly exhausted. Pale and frightened, he stepped into the garden and looked back at Charlie.
Charlie told him where to climb the wall. He hoped the twisted vines of ivy would still show signs of his own speedy clambering.
"Hurry, Dagbert," urged Lysander.
They watched Dagbert run toward the trees, and then Lysander closed the door.
As they hastened across the main hall, someone came out of the side hall leading to the ballroom.
"Very impressive, Lysander Sage," Manfred said through clenched teeth. His whole frame shook with fury, fury at his own cowardice, for he'd been unable to screw up enough courage to face Lysander's spirit ancestors.
"You're too late," Manfred went on, enraged by Lysander's look of disdain. "Charlie's parents will never come home now." And he gave Charlie a terrible smile.
14
A PERPLEXING POSTCARD
Charlie watched Manfred step back into the side hall and swiftly close the door.