Charlie became aware of the animal heads hanging in the hallway. He was reluctant to walk beneath them, but felt he had little choice. Lifting the boa onto his shoulders, he followed the two retreating figures. He caught up with them seconds later in a forest of extraordinary trees.
"Where are we?" Charlie whispered.
"We're in a forest in the enchanter's palace," Billy told him. "He made the trees and animals especially for me."
"Lucky you." Charlie let the boa slither to his feet. "It's odd, when I came here before, I arrived outside a giant's tower."
"Perhaps you naturally gravitate toward your ancestor," Matilda said in a solemn voice.
"What?" Charlie regarded the girl who, all at once, looked infinitely wise. He turned to Billy. "You can't stay here, Billy. You don't belong."
"I don't belong in your city," said Billy. "I haven't got a home there. It's nice here. The food is good and everything is beautiful and" - he looked at Matilda - "I've got a friend."
"But I've come all this way," said Charlie, shocked by Billy's words. "You know you can stay with me any time you want."
Matilda took Billy's hand. "So you'd best go home, Charlie Bone, and take your snake because..." She stared at a tree. "Oh dear! Here he comes."
The next moment, Edgar came walking out from behind a tree. "I heard a scream," he said.
Matilda let go of Billy's hand and pointed at the blue boa. "The enchanter has made such an excellent snake, we thought it was real."
The boa waved its head and hissed.
Edgar stepped back. "Stupid girl," he said. "Snakes don't have feathers. You are late for dinner again. Come immediately."
Charlie watched them go. They didn't even turn in his direction. The boa made no attempt to follow Billy. He seemed to know it was his place to stay with Charlie. Or maybe it was Claerwen's influence. The big snake had curled himself into an invisible coil.
Claerwen had emerged from Charlie's pocket and was now fluttering among the high branches, as though investigating the artificial forest. Charlie sat on the ground and put his head in his hands. He had been totally unprepared for Billy's rejection. Billy had been spellbound, he decided. But how he was to break the spell, Charlie had no idea.
"Help me, Claerwen," said Charlie. "Helpu fi."
She came and settled on his arm, but although she gave him comfort, she couldn't provide an answer.
In the distance, Charlie could see animals moving through the trees. "They're not real, are they?" he murmured to Claerwen. None of the animals came near him.
"I'll wait until they've gone to bed," Charlie told himself. "I'll find where Billy's sleeping, and maybe if he's alone, I can make him come with me."
An unreal moon was already beaming down into the forest. Charlie wondered if he would be able to tell when night fell in this palace of false light. I wouldn't want to live here, he thought as he stretched himself on the ground. He rested his head on the boa's smooth coils, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
Charlie woke up with a start. A girl in a long white robe was standing in the trees. She held a burning candle in a metal saucer.
"Are you there, Charlie Bone?" the girl asked in a whisper.
Charlie sat up. "I'm here. Where's Billy?"
"He didn't want to leave his room. I've come with a message." Matilda ventured a little closer to Charlie. "Billy won't come back with you, Charlie. I'm sorry that you've come all this way, through the years, and not without danger to yourself, I'm sure. But there is someone you might want to see before you return."
Charlie rubbed his eyes and got to his feet. "You mean my ancestor, the giant. Perhaps you can tell me how I can reach his tower, because I know it's miles away."
"Not miles away, Charlie. He is here."
"Here?" Charlie remembered Matilda's words. "Is that what your meant about gravitating toward my ancestor?"
"Of course." She gave him a wise smile.
"Where is he?" asked Charlie.
"In the dungeon. I will show you the entrance, but I dare not come with you." She looked at her candle. "I could give you a light, but it would be seen."
"I don't need a light," said Charlie.
"Come with me, then."
Charlie followed Matilda's flickering candle along the silent halls. It must be the dead of night, he thought, for the rush lights had died and the false stars had lost their shine. He supposed that even enchanters needed their sleep.
The halls became darker. The walls were now rock and stone, the ground a path of rubble. A deep, melancholy voice echoed down the passages, and as they hastened ever deeper, Charlie could make out the word "Amoret!"
"My ancestor," Charlie whispered.
"I can hear it now," said Matilda. "At first only Billy could hear the giant's voice. We are getting nearer."
They came to a half circle of rusty iron railings, and lifting her candle, Matilda said, "Down there!"
Charlie saw a stairway of rocky steps, twisting down into the darkness.
"I wish you well, Charlie Bone," Matilda whispered.
"Thank you." Charlie hoped they would meet again. She was just about the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Who was she? Did she have a place in the long tangle of the Red King's descendants?
"Make haste!" Matilda looked at the ceiling where a star was beginning to flicker into life. "The enchanter is waking up."
"Good-bye, Matilda!" Charlie touched her hand and she stared at it in wonder.
"Good-bye, Charlie Bone!"
Charlie put his foot onto the first step and began to descend. It was the steepest, blackest set of steps he had ever come across and he was glad of Claerwen's bright light. He worried that his loud stumbling would wake the guard who must surely be watching the giant's cell.
At the bottom of the steps, a sharp turn brought Charlie into a narrow space where a figure sat slumped beside a table. A pile of candles lay on the table and one flickered in a brass candlestick. But it was Claerwen's light that showed Charlie the heavily barred cell beyond the guard and the giant's gaunt face peering out of it.
"Who is there?" whispered Otus.
Charlie looked at the sleeping figure. A bunch of keys lay on his lap. Which one opened the cell? Charlie would have to choose quickly. He tiptoed closer to the sleeping guard. And then he saw the huge, lumpy thumb. Snatching up the keys, Charlie tried to push the first one into the lock on the cell door. It didn't fit.
The giant watched the floating keys in astonishment. "Who is it?" he asked again.
"Me, Charlie, your descendant," Charlie whispered. "I'm going to take you to your wife."
"Amoret?" The giant shook his head. "You lie. She is dead."
The rattle of iron in the lock must have woken the troll, for all at once he opened his eyes and stared at the keys. Leaping up, he shouted, "What is this, giant? Are you trying to use magic?"
The giant backed away, still shaking his head, and Oddthumb seized the keys. He stared at them suspiciously. Charlie made a grab for them, but Oddthumb lifted his great fist and brought it smashing into Charlie's stomach. He reeled back with a groan.
"There you are," said the troll. "You scoundrel. You won't get the better of Oddthumb with invisibility, I can tell you."
What made the boa act then, Charlie would never know. Maybe Claerwen had a word in his ear, for suddenly the big snake made himself visible. From Charlie's shoulder he lunged at Oddthumb, hissing like a steaming kettle. The troll, his eyes starting from his head, flung up his hands and the keys went flying through the air.
A dreadful sound came gurgling out of Oddthumb and he ran up the steps, stumbling and moaning in terror.
Charlie quickly scooped up the keys. The second one fit the lock and the cell door swung open with a screech.
"We'd better hurry," Charlie told the giant, "or Oddthumb will be back with reinforcements."
"It is you, Charlie Bone," said the giant. "I know your voice. But what are we going to do? How can I ever escape t
his place?"
"First of all, the boa will make you invisible," said Charlie. "And then... then we'll find your wife before she dies and you will be together."
The blue boa needed no instruction this time. He seemed to know instinctively what he should do. Otus watched himself disappear in horror and fascination. It was only when Charlie began to direct his moth that he realized they would have to return the way they had come - through the painting of Badlock.
The boa looped himself around the giant's shoulders and Charlie held tight to his ancestor's arm. Claerwen spread her silver wings and, alighting on Charlie's head, proceeded to take them through time.
CHAPTER 19
LYSANDER TO THE RESCUE
As usual, Charlie had given no thought to the flight ahead. Traveling with an invisible giant was not as easy as he would have wished. Otus might have been brave but a journey to meet a wife he believed to be dead was a little daunting. If he had known he would be flying through nine hundred years, instead of twenty, he probably wouldn't have agreed to come at all. As it was, he kept calling out to Charlie for reassurance. The tumbling and whirling aspect of their journey was very uncomfortable for a giant.
"Are we there?" Otus would cry. "My legs are floating over my head. Woe, Charlie. Bring us to earth."
"Hush, Otus," Charlie would reply, as though he were speaking to a child.
"When will we arrive? Will we be too late to see
Amoret?" The giant's voice quavered as a violent gust of time spun into a fast descent.
"I think we're here," said Charlie as his feet scraped the ground.
When the giant touched down a second later, there was an earth-shuddering crash.
"Woe!" yelled Otus as his invisible feet plunged through the floorboards.
A long shriek followed the crash and a voice cried, "He's here! He's here!"
"Where? Where?" called other voices.
Charlie found himself on the stage of the Old Chapel, looking out at a crowd of angry, aggressive-looking people. Mrs. Tilpin thrust her face very close to his. "You're there, aren't you?" She tried to poke him in the chest, but Charlie stepped sideways, just in time.
"Where am I?" roared the giant. "My feet are gone."
"They're stuck in the floorboards," Charlie whispered. "Pull them out, Otus."
There was a sound of cracking, splintering wood as Otus heaved his big feet up through the floorboards. "OW!" he bellowed.
"There're two!" A woman at the front of the crowd pointed at Charlie. Her bright red ringlets looked very odd framing such an old, wrinkled face. "I can see them. One is a giant."
"A giant?" screamed Mrs. Tilpin, stepping back.
"Dolores has the second sight," said a burly fellow in a black woolen ski mask.
Standing just behind the wooly-masked man, Charlie caught sight of someone he recognized, but events were moving too fast for him to put a name to the man.
"Where's my wife?" the giant called plaintively. "Where's Amoret?"
"Amoret?" Mrs. Tilpin turned to the crowd. "Friends, this giant is the shadow's prisoner."
The crowd surged forward and began to climb onto the stage. Charlie grabbed the giant's hand and tugged him to the green curtains at the back.
"There! There!" shouted Dolores, her black-gloved finger following Charlie as he pulled the giant toward the door at the side of the stage.
The crowd closed in. Coarse, deep-throated oaths filled the air as a dozen tall figures surrounded Charlie and the giant.
"There be monsters in your world, Charlie boy," said the giant, "but they shall not have us." And he thrust out his big foot, pushing two of the men to the ground.
The others stepped back, staring in horror at the giant's shoulders, for the blue boa had made himself visible. He was thrusting his head out at the crowd, his open mouth revealing dreadful shining fangs.
"Dolores, do something!" screamed Mrs. Tilpin.
As Dolores reached into her pockets, Charlie heard drumbeats. They grew louder and louder until the sound filled the chapel. The crowd looked around, trying to see where the drumming was coming from. But nothing could distract Dolores. Raising a small silver catapult, she shot a stone straight at the giant's forehead. He crashed to the floor with a groan.
"Oh, Otus, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I brought you here," cried Charlie, falling to his knees beside the giant. The distressed boa wrapped himself around Charlie as though to comfort him. Too late, Charlie realized that he was becoming visible. He waited for Mrs. Tilpin's sharp fingers to grab him by the neck. But nothing touched him.
Charlie looked up. The crowd was backing away, men and women falling over one another in their haste to leave the stage. Even Mrs. Tilpin was moving down the steps. Her eyes were fixed on the wall behind Charlie, her face contorted with fear. Following her gaze, Charlie looked behind him and saw a line of ghostly forms, half hidden in a swirling mist. Their faces were undefined, but their brown arms were all too clear. Each one held a long, gleaming spear.
"Lysander!" said Charlie.
"You bet!" Lysander came striding through the stage door. He swept his arm in an arc above his head and pointed at the crowd.
Lysander's spirit ancestors, their weapons held aloft, advanced on Mrs. Tilpin and her sinister followers. Many of them held their hands over their ears, the drumbeats were now so loud. They jostled and moaned as they pushed their way to the door that opened onto Piminy Street. And then they were through, and above the drumming, their heavy feet could be heard pounding down the street.
The still-invisible giant groaned.
"Whatever was that?" Lysander stared at the floor.
"A giant," said Charlie. "And he's alive. Thanks, Sander. Thank you, thank you. You saved our lives."
"A giant," said Lysander. "I expected Billy."
"Billy," sighed Charlie. "He wouldn't come."
Lysander stared at Charlie in disbelief, and then, studying the floor where the groaning was coming from, he said, "We'd better get that giant out of here. I'm sure they'll be able to see him, even if I can't." He beckoned his spirit ancestors.
The tall, wraithlike forms lowered their spears and rested them against glittering belts. Charlie got to his feet as they came toward him. There were seven of them, their dark features appearing briefly and then receding into the mist that seemed to accompany them. They bent down and lifted the giant onto their shoulders, as easily as if he'd been an empty sack. At least Charlie assumed that's where the giant was, because his groaning voice was now coming from somewhere just above their heads.
Lysander led the way through the door and around the back of the chapel. Charlie came last with the blue boa hanging about his neck. He took a quick look into the chapel before he closed the door. The painting of Badlock was lying on its back, facing the ivy-clad ceiling. Charlie was tempted to destroy it, knowing what it could do. And then he remembered Billy.
Charlie slammed the door of the chapel and raced around into the alley. He could hardly believe his eyes. Uncle Paton's camper van was parked in a space no camper van should occupy. Luckily, the back doors were right beside the opening in the chapel wall, and the ancestors had no trouble in depositing the giant on the floor. When this was done, the tall figures slowly melted away. Lysander made a bow in their direction and closed the van doors.
"Uncle Paton, when did you get here?" Charlie clambered in beside his uncle, who shied away from the boa and started the engine.
"An hour ago," said Uncle Paton. "You don't need to tell me where you've been."
Lysander leaped in beside Charlie and said, "Let's go, Mr. Yewbeam."
They sped up to the top of the alley and turned onto a road that would eventually take them to Filbert Street.
"Is young Billy hurt?" asked Uncle Paton as he drove, rather too fast, along Park Road. "He's making a devil of a noise."
"It isn't Billy," said Charlie.
"No?" Uncle Paton glanced at Charlie. "Who then?"
Charlie hesitated and Lysande
r said, "Mr. Yewbeam, you have a very large man in the back of your van."
"WHAT?" Uncle Paton's foot slipped onto the brake and everyone lurched forward rather sickeningly.
A dreadful groan came from the back, and a melancholy voice called, "For pity's sake, what monstrous machine is eating me?"
"How large is this very large man?" asked Paton in a low voice. "Are we talking of giants?"
"He's not strictly a giant," said Charlie. "He's only about eight or nine feet tall."
Uncle Paton sighed. "May I ask why he is here?"
"He's from Badlock," Charlie told his uncle. "He's my ancestor, and yours. I HAD to rescue him, Uncle P."
"Of course you did," Uncle Paton said wearily. "And may I ask what you propose to do with such a very tall person, nine hundred years out of his own time?"
Charlie grimaced. He couldn't bring himself to tell his uncle that he planned to take Otus to the Castle of Mirrors. He knew it would sound ridiculous.
Lysander leaned forward and said quietly, "The giant is at present invisible, Mr. Yewbeam."
"Oh, great." Paton glanced at the blue boa. "I suppose that makes everything all right, doesn't it?" He put his foot down hard on the accelerator and they whizzed up Filbert Street, coming to a screeching halt outside number nine.
Charlie wasn't quite sure what to do next. His uncle sat in the driving seat, scratching his head and looking stressed.
"I'll get the Browns." Charlie raced over to number twelve to explain the situation to the Browns.
Uncle Paton eventually roused himself and joined Lysander, who had opened the van doors. The giant had fallen silent.
Mr. and Mrs. Brown came running across the road followed by Benjamin, Charlie, and Runner Bean. They all crowded around the back of the camper van, Runner Bean barking with excitement.
"How interesting!" Mr. Brown peered into the van, accidentally resting his hand on one of the giant's feet. "Oops! There he is."
"Charlie, open the front door. Quickly," ordered Uncle Paton.
Charlie leaped up the steps and opened the door, calling, "Hi, Grandmas! We're just bringing in a carpet." When he looked around, Lysander, Uncle Paton, and the Browns were carrying the giant, wrapped in the van's carpet, toward the house.