Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors

  "Turn into a frog," he cried, throwing the wand at the ceiling. As the white stick left his hand, a searing pain traveled down Manfred's arm. "Oooow!" he yelled.

  The wand hit the fly and fell to the ground. The fly unharmed, sailed over to the window

  "Turn that thing into a frog!" screeched Manfred, seizing the wand and hurling it at the window This time, the pain that struck his hand felt like a red-hot poker. Indeed, there was a large red welt across his palm.

  As Manfred screamed, the fly buzzed behind the curtain, and once more the wand fell to the ground. There was now no doubt in Manfred's mind that the wand would not work for him. In fact, the more he attempted to use it, the more it would punish him for daring to try

  "You . . . you . . ." Swearing horribly Manfred scooped up the wand and pitched it into the empty fireplace. He then gathered as much scrap paper as he could find and flung that into the fireplace. Manfred's final act was to strike several matches and drop them onto the paper.

  The flames that roared up the chimney were very gratifying, but there was a moment of panic for Manfred when they began to leap into the room. He tore off his black cape and tossed it over the fire, smothering the flames. The cape smoldered and a cloud of smoke billowed out. Coughing and choking, Manfred staggered to the window and Rung it open.

  At the same moment, Tantalus Ebony walked into the room, chuckling merrily "What are we up to, young man?"

  Manfred whirled around, still coughing. He pointed to the fire. "Wand . . . ugh . . . Charlie Bone's . . . I'm . . . ugh . . . burning it." He cleared his throat with a hoarse, grating sound. "It wouldn't work for me, so I've finished it off. At least the little wretch can't use it now"

  "Oooo! Temper, temper." Tantalus giggled. "You'll have to learn to control that, my old pal."

  "I am not your old pal," Manfred retorted. "And I wish you could decide who you were."

  "Today I'm . . ." Tantalus gazed up at the ceiling. "I'm a bit of Vincent Ebony the postman — he called everyone his old pal — but then I'm also partly the hitchhiking headmaster, Tantalus Wright. I haven't had so much fun in years."

  "I hope you haven't forgotten why you're here," Manfred said sourly

  "Oh, THAT!" Tantalus narrowed his mismatched eyes and licked his thin lips. "No, I haven't forgotten THAT."

  The fire in the grate was by now a glowing pile of ash, and the two men watched with satisfaction as the remains of the charred wand finally crumbled to dust. A sudden draft from the open window lifted the ashes, and a tiny cloud of them fluttered into the room. Gradually the cloud assumed the shape of a white moth with delicate silver-tipped wings.

  "Catch it!" roared Tantalus.

  Manfred leaped, but too late. The moth floated out of the window, closely followed by the elusive fly

  * * *

  In the bathroom of number nine Filbert Street, Charlie Bone, wearing pajamas, stood beside the sink feeling very ill. His whole body seemed to be on fire. Was it the flu? He sensed that something awful had happened. But what? Perhaps one of his friends had been in an accident.

  Charlie held his hands under the cold tap. Steam rose from his lingers, almost as though they were the prongs of a red-hot iron. "Ow!" Charlie quaked. "Ooo, what's happening?"

  "Indeed what?" said a grouchy voice from the doorway. Grandma Bone stood, glaring in at Charlie. "You've been in this bathroom for twenty minutes. Other people have needs too, you know."

  "Yessss!" Charlie gritted his teeth as another cloud of steam hissed off his fingertips. "But I'm very hot, you see, Grandma. Look! Steam!"

  "Wickedness made manifest," growled his grandmother. "Take your nasty hands elsewhere."

  Charlie left the bathroom, flapping his steamy fingers in the air. He went into his bedroom, opened the window as wide as he could, and held his hands out in the cool air. It was a strange evening. An autumn mist was creeping through the town, muffling the sound of traffic and softening the contours of walls and fences. There was a strong scent of flowers in the air.

  A shining speck of dust floated out of the sky. As it drew nearer, Charlie could make out two white wings tipped with silver, a white moth. The little creature flew down to Charlie's outstretched hand and settled on his index finger.

  "Wow!" said Charlie. "You're amazing." He carried the moth inside and let it walk onto his bedside table, where it spread its wings and sat perfectly still. Charlie got the impression that the moth felt at home in his room. He realized that his hands no longer burned and that his fever had stopped. He was perfectly well again.

  * * *

  In a house not far from Charlie's, Olivia Vertigo sat on the edge of her bed, peeling an apple. It was the fifth apple s he had tried to peel that day And this attempt was proving to be as unsuccessful as the others. Every time she thought she'd reached the end, another inch of peel appeared, and yet the strand that hung from the apple was at least a meter long.

  In a sudden fury Olivia dropped the knife and flung the apple across the room. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, "What's happening to me?"

  The door opened and her mother looked in. Vivienne Vertigo (or Viva Valery, as she was known in the movies) might have been a film star, but this had never prevented her from being a kind and considerate mother. She had always managed to help her daughter through her little "spells of temperament," as she put it. But Olivia's mood over the last twenty-four hours was beginning to defeat her.

  "The flowers are beautiful, Olivia, thank you!" said Vivienne.

  Olivia didn't look up.

  "Oh, poor Livvy." Mrs. Vertigo went over to her daughter and sat beside her on the bed. "I failed my first audition too, you know. It just wasn't the right part for you. There'll be another chance. You mustn't be so downhearted."

  "I'm not," growled Olivia.

  "Then what is it?"

  "Something's happening to me, Mom."

  "You're growing up, darling."

  "It's not THAT!" yelled Olivia. "It's something else. It's making me . . . oh, I don't know I hate it. I don't want it to happen."

  Mrs. Vertigo stopped herself from making a dramatic gesture. Instead she gave a modest shrug and said, "I don't quite understand, my darling."

  Olivia gave a huge sigh. "When I came in with the flowers, I felt like eating an apple. So I took one from the bowl in the kitchen. But I couldn't peel it. I tried four more, but . . . but the peel never comes to an end."

  "Can't you eat the peel, darling?" asked Mrs. Vertigo. "It's supposed to be good for the hair."

  “I don’t like the peel," cried Olivia, exasperated by her mother's lack of understanding. "But that's not the point. Why does the peel never end? I go around and around and around, and it NEVER ENDS."

  At last Mrs. Vertigo said, "Those apples come from the tree at the end of the garden. I've never had any trouble with them before."

  Olivia gave up on the apples. “And then there's the flowers."

  "They're beautiful," gushed her mother. "But where on earth did you find them? I thought you were at the Pets' Café. I was so worried when Mr. Onimous told me you hadn't been there."

  "That's the thing, Mom. The flowers found me. There was this alley that I'd never seen before, and I felt I had to go down there. And then I found this flower shop, Angel Flowers. When I went in, the woman inside said she knew me, and that was scary because 1 don't know her. Her name is Alice Angel."

  "Alice Angel, Alice Angel," Mrs. Vertigo repeated the name very slowly. "Of course," she said at last. "Alice Angel does the flowers — weddings, christenings, celebrations. She decorated the house for your christening party, Livvy. I haven't seen her since, but she lives just down there."

  "Where?" Olivia jumped off the bed and followed her mother's pointing finger to the window "Where? Where?"

  "On the other side of the wall there's a garden. It backs onto ours. Alice Angel lives in a house at the far end. At least she used to."

  "Mom, I'm going to take a look right now"

  "OK, Liv
vy." Mrs. Vertigo was pleased to see her daughter's sad face come to life once more. "But please don't climb over the wall. The house could belong to a stranger."

  "Never fear," Olivia said brightly. She ran downstairs and out into the garden.

  A white September mist lay over the grass, and the air was warm and filled with scents. Olivia approached the shrubbery at the bottom of the garden. She could see t he wall rising above it, but before she could reach it, she stumbled over a fallen apple. There were others lying nearby. In fact, the ground was covered with them. But there were no apple trees in the Vertigos' garden. The fruit came from a long branch that hung over the wall. The tree grew on the other side.

  Olivia pushed her way through the dense shrubbery She wasn't tall enough to see over the wall, so she hauled herself up and sat on the top. When she looked down into the garden beyond, she thought there'd been a sudden snowfall, for it was filled with white flowers. They climbed into trees, crowded the borders, and crept across the narrow stone path. White petals lay everywhere, like patches of snow

  At the end of the path, a very small house stood under a blanket of white roses. Only the door and one window could be glimpsed. Even the chimney was wrapped in greenery

  Olivia had hardly taken in this extraordinary scene when her eyes were drawn to a rounded wooden structure that she could just make out above the sea of flowers. Olivia squinted into the dusk. It was a caravan, a real gypsy caravan.

  Just then the door of the house opened and light flooded onto the path. A figure stepped out. It was small and very thin; it wore a long, hooded coat, and it shuffled up the path, head bent and shoulders hunched. And then it left the path and waded through the flowers until it reached the caravan. Olivia heard feet dragging up the wooden steps. She squinted her eyes and leaned farther over the wall, trying to see whether the strange figure was a man or a woman.

  A voice called, "Sleep well, my dear." Framed in the doorway of the rose-covered house stood a woman with shining white hair. Alice Angel.

  "Bless you!" replied the hooded figure. It went into the caravan and closed the door.

  Alice remained where she was for a moment. And then she called, "Is that you, Olivia?"

  Olivia shuddered and dropped down into her own garden.

  A MAN TRAPPED IN GLASS

  On Monday morning, Charlie expected to see Billy Raven on the school bus, but there was no sign of him.

  Charlie finally caught up with Billy in assembly. The small boy appeared to be exhausted. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his face wore a hungry, pinched look.

  "How are things at home, Billy?" Charlie whispered as the orchestra tuned up.

  "Fine," said Billy. "It's great. Really."

  "I waited for you. I thought your parents would bring you to the Pets' Café."

  "No. I . . . you see . . . we were busy" Billy said solemnly

  A hundred blue-caped children launched into the first hymn, and Charlie gave up temporarily but after the first break, he found Billy in the blue coatroom.

  "Billy . . ." Charlie began.

  Billy cried, "Stop!"

  Charlie stared at Billy in surprise. "OK."

  "Please don't ask me about my home or my parents or anything like that, because I won't tell you." Lowering his voice, he added, "I can't."

  For a moment, Charlie was at a loss. The de Greys had obviously threatened Billy, and Charlie didn't want to make trouble for him. "OK. Maybe you can tell me if you stole my wand?"

  Billy's pale face turned scarlet. "I . . ." He struggled with his answer. At last, he said quietly, "I'm sorry, Charlie. Really sorry."

  "I suppose you gave it to Manfred."

  Silently Billy nodded.

  "Let me guess. He threatened you in some way Maybe he said you wouldn't go to a new home after all."

  Billy gave another mute nod.

  Charlie sighed. "I wish you hadn't done that, Billy, but I suppose I can't blame you." He left the coat-room and hurried on to his classroom. The sound of laughter echoed toward him as he approached Tantalus Ebony's room. When he walked in, he found hall the class in fits of giggles.

  Tantalus Ebony sat behind his desk with his chin resting on his chest. His purple hood was pulled over his head, his eyes were closed, and he was snoring very loudly.

  Charlie took his place next to Fidelio, who was sprawled across his desk, shaking with helpless laughter. Charlie couldn't stop himself from giggling, although he kept an eye on the teacher.

  Suddenly Mr. Ebony's head shot up and he bellowed, "Quiet!" His voice sounded completely different. Last week, he had a high-pitched whine, but now his voice sounded as though it were rumbling up from a deep cavern. It was such a shock, the whole class immediately fell silent.

  Mr. Ebony looked a bit shaken by the deep voice that had come booming out of him. “Ahem," he said, clearing his throat. "Hmmm! Hmmm!"

  It was difficult to keep a straight face while the extraordinary teacher worked his way through a series of coughs, wheezes, whistles, and puffs, but none of the children in the classroom allowed a glimmer of a smile to cross his or her face. They feared detention.

  At last, the teacher found a suitable voice for his lesson, and in a pleasant but commanding tone, he announced, "Medieval history Open your books to page forty-three. The Plantagenets."

  For forty minutes, the class listened to Tantalus Ebony's description of the reign of Henry II and the murder of Thomas a Becket. It was the most interesting lesson Charlie had ever had. The lesson had almost reached its end when, to their surprise, Mr. Ebony asked, "And where was the Red King when these battles, murders, and intrigues were taking place?"

  No one knew what to say.

  Mr. Ebony looked directly at Emma Tolly and said, "You should know, Emma the Endowed, should you not? You who have the king's blood in your veins, the king's gift in your fingers"— he leaned over the desk and whispered hoarsely — "in your wings."

  Everyone looked at Emma, who stammered, "I . . . don't know, sir."

  "He was right here, you silly girl. Living very comfortably in that old ruin you can see at the edge of the grounds. Who would have thought a gloomy old castle like that could have been a nice family home? But it was. The king and queen and their ten children lived there happily until one day the queen died — hey-ho, it happens. So the king went off to mope in the woods, deserting his children, even the baby." Mr. Ebony shook his head. He had an odd, satisfied grin on his face now. "Of course, there were plenty of servants to look after them, but it's not the same, is it? Not the same as having a mommy and daddy, is it, Emma?"

  "No, sir." Emma looked close to tears.

  Charlie wondered why Tantalus Ebony had picked on Emma. There were two other endowed children in t he room: he and Gabriel, who was sitting at the back, nervously pulling at his hair. Without thinking, Charlie asked, "Are you endowed, sir?"

  Ignoring the question, Mr. Ebony turned his gray-brown gaze on Charlie and asked, "How's the wildlife on Filbert Street, Mr. Bone?"

  Charlie was completely dumbfounded. "What?" he croaked.

  "The wildlife, Charlie. Come on. Seen any unusual butterflies lately? Any moths? And how about a horse?"

  Charlie's mouth dropped open but not a sound came out. "No," Charlie mumbled.

  "No, what?"

  "No, sir," said Charlie.

  "Stupid boy I meant which. No moths or no horse."

  Charlie's mind raced. Was it a trick question? Before Charlie could make up his mind, Fidelio said, “H e hasn’t seen either of them."

  “And who asked you, insolent boy?" yelled the teacher. All at once, his mood changed. Locking his fingers together, he stretched out his arms, turning his palms toward the class. A horrible crunch of bones could be heard, and Mr. Ebony said cheerily, "Class dismissed."

  Hardly believing his luck, Charlie gathered his books and made for the door. As he left the room, he heard Mr. Ebony whistling a familiar tune.

  "Is that man weird or what?" said Fideli
o.

  "It's like he's two different people," said Charlie.

  "Three," put in Gabriel, who had just caught up with them. "When he's teaching piano, he's completely different — calm and serious and his playing is fantastic."

  Emma and Olivia were walking ahead of the boys, but just before they reached the hall, Olivia turned to Emma and shouted, "Oh, shut up! I don't want to talk about it," and she ran across the hall to the drama coatroom.

  "What's up with her?" asked Fidelio.

  Emma hung back until the boys reached her. "I suppose everybody knows by now that she failed her audition. It'll be all over the school."

  "I'd forgotten about it," Gabriel admitted.

  "Poor thing," said Fidelio. "She must feel awful."

  Charlie confessed that he'd seen Olivia since the audition. He told the others about the woman in Angel Flowers, who seemed to know Olivia and him.

  Asa Pike, who was prowling around the hall, called, "You bunch, stop lurking in corners. You're supposed to be getting ready for lunch."

  Observing the rule of silence, the four children walked into the hall and went to their respective coatrooms.

  Billy Raven was standing at the back of the lunch line when Charlie and his friends walked into the cafeteria. "Can I sit at your table?" he asked Charlie.

  "I suppose." Charlie grinned. Billy looked so nervous, it was impossible to remain angry with him.

  Today, it was tomato soup and rolls. While the others hungrily spooned up the soup, Billy just sat staring at it.

  "Not well, Billy?" asked Fidelio.

  "Oh, yes, I'm very well," gushed Billy "My parents are great. They give me wonderful things to eat. I had such a gigantic breakfast, I just can't eat any more."

  The others stared at him, surprised by his enthusiastic speech. But after that, Billy said nothing until the end of the meal. They were piling up their plates, ready to take them to the counter, when Billy asked shyly "Gabriel, could you tell me about something? It's a thing that's been worn by someone, but it's not a usual kind of thing."