Charlie Bone and the Invisible Boy

  A light breeze came whispering in their wake. Gradually, the breeze turned into a wind that sighed down the dark passages, rattling doors and windows, lifting carpets, and tugging at the curtains. In the dormitories, children pulled the covers over their heads and tried not to hear the mysterious howling, creaking, and rattling that was going on outside their doors.

  Lucretia Yewbeam had been alerted by her clairvoyant sister, Eustacia, that something odd would be happening at Bloor’s Academy that night. As soon as she heard the unnatural wind, Lucretia got out of bed, intending to put a stop to any “nonsense.” But when she opened her door, the wind threw her back onto her bed with such force, she could only lie there, breathless and terrified.

  Others were also attempting to leave their rooms. In vain. Manfred Bloor tugged at his door handle, yelling with frustration while, on the other side, two brown hands held it firm.

  Old Ezekiel couldn’t even manage to wheel himself to the door. An army of spears had invaded his room. They hung all around him, slicing the air with a violent hiss whenever he tried to move.

  On the floor below, Dr. Bloor was already marching along his brightly lit and thickly carpeted corridor. Halfway down he was met by the wind, but this was not enough to deter a man like Dr. Bloor. He battled on, grunting with fury, until he came to a force too powerful to overcome. First, the lights went out, and then three wraithlike shapes loomed before him. Their faces were hidden in mist but the dark hands that held their gleaming spears were clearly visible. And they made a strange sound, a distant rhythmic drumming.

  At the top of the western tower, a man who rarely slept lifted his hands from the piano and laid them in his lap. Mr. Pilgrim listened to the midnight chimes. There were other sounds in the air: distant drumbeats and a wind that moaned and sang. The music teacher frowned, trying to remember what his life might once have been.

  Emma and Olivia hadn’t closed their eyes all night. They’d been lying in bed, listening and watching. On the stroke of midnight Olivia saw a pale shape gliding toward the door. In a second she had jumped out of bed and raced toward the figure. It turned to face her, and in the dim light from the half-open door, Olivia saw an old and hideous woman.

  “Get away from me,” snarled the woman.

  “No.” Olivia grabbed a bony wrist.

  “Get off!” shrieked the hag.

  “I know who you are, you old witch,” cried Olivia. “Your name’s Yolanda Yewbeam, and I’m not scared of you, not one bit.”

  “Is that so?” The old woman gave a throaty cackle, and every other girl in the dormitory but two burrowed deeper under their covers.

  Olivia, still clinging to the hag, was dragged into the passage. As she kicked out desperately, her leg was clamped between jaws of iron. Olivia screamed as jagged teeth bit into her bone, and then she looked into the face of a beast so hideous and so terrifying she had to close her eyes. The scrawny wrist slipped from her grasp, and through half-closed eyes she saw the white-robed woman and the beast vanish into the shadows.

  As she dragged herself back into the dormitory, Olivia almost fell over a body lying just inside the door. It was Emma, wrapped from head to foot in thick cord.

  “Em!” breathed Olivia. “What happened?”

  “I was coming to help.” Emma gave a gasp of pain. “I thought that being a bird would …”

  Olivia saw the feathers at the tips of Emma’s fingers, bound painfully tight with cord.

  “Oh, Em. Who did this to you?” She began to tear at the cord.

  “I can’t be sure, but I think it was Dorcas.”

  Olivia looked at the two rows of beds. Every girl had her head under the covers. “I’ll get you out of this, Emma,” she said fiercely and finding a knot, she began to attack it with her teeth.

  Emma gave a sigh of relief, and the soft black feathers at the tips of her fingers started to fade.

  Charlie, Gabriel, and Billy had reached the dusty, gaslit region where old Ezekiel had lived for a hundred years. Billy was now shivering with fright. Gabriel and Charlie held his hands and led him toward the staircase where Charlie had seen the blue boa. The snake was still there, a silvery blue coil at the top of the steps, gleaming softly in the dim light.

  As the three boys mounted the stairs, the creature lifted its head, and they froze. Charlie’s legs suddenly felt like lead. He couldn’t move. Behind him he heard Billy’s sharp intake of breath.

  “Talk to it, Billy,” Charlie whispered.

  Silence.

  “Billy?” said Gabriel.

  “I c … can’t,” Billy mumbled. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Anything,” said Charlie desperately. “Say anything.”

  All at once, the boa gave a loud hiss. It swayed ominously and its head swung down toward Charlie, who stepped back, almost knocking Billy over.

  To Charlie’s surprise, Billy echoed the snake’s hiss, and the creature reared up with a loud chuckling sound. Almost as though he couldn’t stop himself, Billy crept past Charlie and began to climb up to the boa.

  Charlie stepped down until he was standing in the passage with Gabriel. Breathlessly, they watched the small boy creep closer and closer to the glimmery blue coils. The boa’s chuckling grew soft and intense, and Billy, who seemed to have found the creature’s language, hummed and whistled in reply. When he reached the top step he sat cross-legged, gazing at the strange snake with its frill of feathers. And, although Charlie couldn’t understand its speech, it seemed to him that the creature had warmed to Billy and was trying to tell him a story.

  In a quiet and hesitant voice, Billy translated the snake’s words.

  “It says … it was born a thousand years ago. Once … it lived with a king … who treated it well. But one day the king went away … and his son … tortured it, until it hated … hated … hated … and killed. The king’s daughter found it … all curled up with fury … and … she … almost cured it … with kindness. But it couldn’t forget its … yearning hug … its hungry embrace … so the princess … gave it the power of … vanishment … not death.”

  Billy looked down at Charlie and Gabriel. “It’s a good snake, really,” he told them. “Since the princess died it hasn’t spoken to anyone ever … until now … I think I’ve made it happy.”

  “Look out, Billy,” said Charlie.

  The snake was gliding across to Billy, and the white-haired boy turned back just as the boa slid on to his lap. Billy gasped as the creature wrapped itself around his waist. Gradually, the lower half of Billy’s body began to disappear.

  “Oh, no!” cried Charlie. “What have we done?”

  “Shhhh!” hushed Gabriel. “Listen.”

  Billy had begun to murmur and hum again. He uttered a series of short gurgling gasps as the boa encircled his neck. It hung there, apparently listening to him, and slowly, Billy’s body became visible again.

  “Wow! It can do it,” said Charlie. “It really can.”

  “Ask the boa if it can do the same thing to another boy,” said Gabriel. “A boy that it hugged into vanishment.”

  Billy continued to hum and the boa replied with more chuckling and hissing.

  “It says … it will …,” Billy told them, “if we promise … not to put it in a jar…. For hundreds of years it was kept in blue liquid … with the bones of a bird … until Mr. Ezekiel revived it. That’s why it’s got feathers. I told it that we’d never put it in a jar. That we’d take it somewhere safe.” Billy glanced at Charlie. “I hope that’s true.”

  “It is,” said Charlie. “I promise no one will harm it.”

  “OK,” said Billy. “Now what?”

  “We take it to the kitchens,” said Charlie.

  Billy got to his feet and cautiously descended the rickety steps with the boa still happily wrapped around his neck.

  “Hope we can get it off him,” Gabriel whispered to Charlie as they made their way along the passage. “I wonder what it eats.”

  “Who knows?” Charlie sudd
enly remembered another task. He took the jar of Best Strawberry Conserve from the pocket of his pajamas and called softly, “Ollie Sparks, are you there? I brought you some jam.”

  But the building was still under the spell of wind and spirits. Charlie’s words were drowned and there was no reply.

  As they approached the main hall, the whistling and sighing of the wind intensified. Now and again a pale shape would glide beside them, and a shining spear or a feathered arrow would sail over their heads.

  Billy, quite undaunted by all the supernatural activity, led the way, while the boa whispered into his ear.

  They came to the landing and, looking down into the long flagstoned hall, beheld the source of the magical night. Two figures whirled and spun across the floor. They moved so fast their green capes looked like the sparkling wings of a dragonfly. It would have been impossible to tell them apart if it hadn’t been for their heads — one black, the other a flashing, flickering yellow.

  Billy was about to lead the way down the main staircase when he gave a shriek of horror. A giant spider had dropped from the ceiling and now crouched on the steps in front of him.

  It was as big as Billy, with eyes like red coals and eight legs covered in coarse black hair.

  “Keep calm,” said Gabriel. “It’s not what it seems.” He moved in front of the others and began to walk down to the spider. The giant creature suddenly leaped onto the banister and swung into the hall on a silver thread as thick as a finger.

  It landed in front of Tancred, whose whirling body faltered and then stopped moving altogether. His cape drooped and his shoulders sagged. He stared at the spider, his face white with horror, and the wild wind that had filled the building died away.

  “Don’t stop, Tancred,” called Gabriel. “It’s her — Yolanda. Don’t be afraid. She can’t hurt you.”

  But Tancred couldn’t move. Yolanda had chosen her shape with insight and cunning. Tancred was paralyzed with terror. So Gabriel had to face the spider himself. Wrapping brave Mr. Boldova’s cape tightly around himself, he ran into the hall shouting, “Here, Yolanda. Here, old hag! What can you do to me, eh?”

  The spider turned her front legs reaching for Gabriel, her red eyes blazing. Gabriel leaped away, but one glance at that hypnotizing stare had already made him dizzy. And then Billy walked past him, crying, “You can’t do it to me, Yolanda. I can’t be hypnotized, not by anything.” And the boa that was Billy’s now, body and soul, lunged at the spider with a hiss that swept through the hall, making the great creature shudder and shrivel.

  Tancred smiled and raised his arms. With his green wings he stirred the air and the wind returned, sending the spider sliding across the floor.

  The little troop, with Billy at its head, continued its journey to the kitchens. But, just before they left the hall, a dreadful howl made them look back. The beast Charlie had seen in the ruin stood at the top of the staircase. It was surrounded by tall, ghostly figures in pale robes. Their arms were covered in gleaming bracelets and the tips of the long spears reached over their heads.

  “The beast won’t be moving far tonight,” Charlie said grimly.

  The three boys hurried down the corridor of portraits, and Gabriel brought out his flashlight to light their way. Cook was waiting for them by the door of the blue cafeteria, with a wicker hamper at her feet. Uncle Paton had kept his word. The hamper even had wheels.

  “My, oh my,” said Cook. “You’re a brave boy, Billy. Will your snake come into this basket, do you think?”

  Billy whispered to the boa, but the creature still clung to him. He hummed and hissed in a soft, coaxing voice, and gradually the snake loosened its grip. Billy lifted it from his neck and gently laid it in the basket. “It will do what you want now,” he said.

  “Thank you, Billy.” Cook closed the lid and fastened it with a leather strap.

  “Everything is taken from me,” Billy murmured sadly. “Everything.” And his eyes filled with tears.

  “Not always,” said Cook. “You’ll soon be seeing a friend of yours. Rembrandt’s the name, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Really?” Billy wiped his nose and beamed with delight.

  “And what news of Ollie Sparks? To my shame, I haven’t been able to get any food to the poor mite. That man Weedon has been watching my every move.”

  “We seem to have temporarily lost him,” Charlie confessed, “but we’ll find him, Cook. We won’t give up.”

  “It had better be soon, Charlie.” Cook gave a sigh. “Off you go now, you three. I’ll take care of this.” She picked up the hamper and disappeared into the cafeteria.

  Accompanied by the singing wind and a host of darting spirits, the three boys hurried back upstairs. They passed Tancred and Lysander, still working their magic in the great hall, but the spider and the beast had vanished. Gabriel and Billy were ahead of Charlie, and he had just turned into the passage that led to his dormitory when a hand clutched his wrist. Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “It’s me,” said a voice. “Ollie Sparks.”

  “Ollie?” Charlie whispered. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “Jam,” said Ollie. “I heard you.”

  “Best Strawberry Conserve,” said Charlie. “Here.” He held out the jam.

  “Wow! My favorite. Thanks, Charlie.”

  It was hard to see what was happening, but Charlie felt the jar being tugged out of his hand — and disappearing. “Ollie, I’ve got some good news,” he said. “We’ve found a way to make you appear. But, somehow, you’ll have to get out of the building. Emma made this to cover your toe. Here … it’s a spider.”

  Ollie gave a low chuckle and the spider was taken out of Charlie’s hand. “This’ll be very useful, but I’m not going out while I’m still invisible. Where would I go?”

  Charlie gave him Miss Ingledew’s address. “It’s close to the cathedral, and she’ll look after you until … well, until you’re cured.”

  “How will I be cured?” asked Ollie suspiciously.

  Charlie realized he would have to mention the boa. He described Billy’s strange disappearing and reappearing act. “It’ll work, trust me,” said Charlie.

  “The boa?” squeaked Ollie. “No way. It’ll finish me off.”

  “But you are finished,” said Charlie, “in a way. I mean, being invisible is a pretty miserable existence, isn’t it? Don’t you want to go home to your parents? Think about it. Don’t you want your brother to see you as a real, whole boy?”

  There was a long silence, then a sigh, and Ollie’s voice came floating out of the dark again. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.”

  Charlie felt guilty about mentioning Mr. Boldova — or Samuel Sparks. For a moment he thought of telling Ollie the truth, that they didn’t really know where his brother was. But when he spoke Ollie’s name there was no reply and he realized the invisible boy must have drifted away.

  I hope he gets out, thought Charlie. Or it’ll all be for nothing.

  Cook carried the hamper back to her secret room behind the kitchen. When she got there, she stood on a chair and opened the skylight in her low-beamed ceiling.

  “Hm. It’ll just about fit,” she said to herself.

  Three pairs of glowing eyes looked down from the darkness above her.

  “Ah, there you are,” she said. “Good cats. I’ve got a package for you. Here it comes,” and she lifted the hamper up through the skylight.

  Any sleepless citizen, glancing through their window that starry morning, would have seen a strange sight indeed. Three large cats were running through the empty streets: one yellow, one orange, and one a wild copper-red. Their fur was touched with fiery gold and their whiskers flashed like silver. Each cat held in its mouth the end of a leather strap and behind them they pulled a wheeled wicker basket. What could it contain? A stolen baby? Priceless jewels? Or a feast for a party? No one would have guessed the truth.

  The bright creatures ran through the town until they reached a green door at the end
of a narrow alley. The door opened and a very small man appeared.

  “Well done, my beauties,” said Mr. Onimous. “Now let’s have a look at your treasure!”

  To make his escape from Bloor’s Academy, Ollie chose a door that not many children knew about.

  Before the novelty of being invisible had worn off, Ollie had used the freedom it gave him to indulge his insatiable curiosity. One night he had discovered the back door. But it was locked, and even had it not been, he wouldn’t have left the building. It was dark for one thing, and for another, where would he have gone?

  This door was situated at the back of the green kitchen, where Mr. Weedon’s wife, Bertha, held sway. When Bertha wasn’t cooking, she would sit in a worn armchair, reading thrillers. She was especially fond of Agatha Christie’s novels. But even when she appeared to be totally engrossed in her book, Bertha Weedon would have half an eye on the door. She liked to know exactly who was coming in and going out.

  Outside the door there was a small yard for trashcans. The garbage collectors made a big fuss about these cans, and why shouldn’t they? To reach the street, they had to wheel the huge cans up a steep ramp and then through two tall iron-studded gates.

  All the deliveries came through these gates and down the ramp or by a set of stone steps favored by the mailman, who had once slid from top to bottom down the ramp. (A moldy banana had been blamed.)

  On Tuesday morning, Ollie made his way down to the green kitchen. Emma’s spider fit his right toe perfectly and he enjoyed watching it leap ahead of him whenever he put his right foot forward.

  The academy was unusually quiet, and Ollie thought no one else was awake — until he reached the green kitchen. Mrs. Weedon stood by the back door while the fishmonger and his assistant staggered through with large trays of frozen fish.

  “In there! In there!” shouted Mrs. Weedon, pointing to the huge freezer. “And be quick about it.”

  Ollie waited until the two men were sliding their trays into the freezer, and then he took his chance. As he moved his right foot over the threshold, Mrs.