With much huffing and puffing, the carpet was lifted up the steps and into the hall, where it was lowered, rather fast, onto the floor. There was a bump and a voice from the floor cried, "Mercy! Let it end now, I beseech you."
Charlie quickly shut the front door and let the boa slide inside the carpet. Maisie appeared in the kitchen doorway and said, "There you are, Charlie. I see your uncle found you. I wondered what on earth had happened."
Charlie gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Maisie. Got held up."
"That's a very shabby carpet," she said, and before anyone could stop her, she gave it a little kick.
The deep groan from the carpet sent her reeling back into the kitchen. "There's someone in there," she cried.
They all followed her into the kitchen. Charlie made her sit down and Uncle Paton put on the kettle. Runner Bean slid under the table and everyone gathered around Maisie. No one knew quite what to tell her, so Charlie sat beside his grandmother and began at the beginning. When he had finished, Maisie took a very deep breath and said, "Well, you'd better do something about that poor man. Grandma Bone will be back from lunch in a minute."
It was decided that Charlie should talk to Otus. The giant would not be so alarmed if someone he knew explained things to him.
"It would be a great advantage if the fellow could be seen," said Mr. Brown.
"Not with my sister around," Paton told him.
They didn't realize that the blue boa had made his own decision until they opened the door. There stood the giant, every hair, every whisker completely visible. The boa had wrapped itself comfortably around his neck.
"Charlie," cried Otus. "What manner of place is this?"
Charlie was relieved to see Otus on his feet, but a little concerned about the huge bruise on the giant's forehead. "Shall we go upstairs?" he asked.
"I have things to tell you and we might not be safe here."
The giant gazed at the framed photos on the wall and at the hall light in its stained-glass shade hanging beside his head. "Yes, yes," he murmured. "It is very strange here, Charlie."
And then Runner Bean ran out of the kitchen wagging his tail and the giant beamed with pleasure. "We meet again, dog," he said, bending to pet Runner Bean. "Good dog. Best of all dogs."
Runner Bean licked the big hand and barked delightedly.
Mrs. Brown poked her head around the door and said, "We'll be going now, Charlie. I'm sure you've got a lot to take care of. It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Yewbeam."
The giant inclined his head.
"Nice to meet you," said Mr. Brown, tiptoeing, for some reason, toward the door. "Come on, Ben."
Benjamin stared up at the giant's smiling face. "Hi," he said.
"Hi!" the giant repeated.
"I'd better be going, too," said Lysander, holding his hand out to the giant. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, sir."
Otus solemnly took Lysander's hand. "You are a powerful boy," said the giant. "I know this. And I thank you."
When Lysander and the Browns had gone, Charlie led the giant upstairs. Uncle Paton suggested his room would be safer than Charlie's, as it was strictly out of bounds to Grandma Bone.
Otus ducked beneath the door frame and sank onto Uncle Paton's bed, which was covered in papers. Otus didn't seem to notice, nor did he pay any heed to the loud twangs the bed made, as though several springs had broken.
"You've made a mistake, haven't you, Charlie boy?" said the giant.
"Sorry." Charlie moved some of the papers and sat next to his ancestor.
"Shall I never see my wife?" asked the giant in a forlorn voice.
"I hope you will." Charlie smiled encouragingly. "The thing is, I had to come back here first because the painting of Badlock was here, and it's what I do: travel into paintings."
"There is no painting of my wife," said Otus.
"No - but - I think I have seen her."
"You... !" The giant's face came very close to Charlie. His large hand clutched Charlie's shoulder. "How is that possible?"
"The castle where she died still stands, but the walls turned to glass."
"I heard that snow fell," Otus murmured, almost to himself. "Snow sent by a magician, but it came too late."
"Too late to save them," Charlie agreed. "But it was a wonderful spell in its way, because now the walls are like glass, but they are also mirrors." He pointed to the mirror on Uncle Paton's dresser, and the giant, seeing himself reflected there, smiled.
"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, mounta
ins 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."