Charlie edged back along the narrow gap and stepped into the tunnel. He would have to return the way he came. If he went on, into the ruined castle, he would be trapped in the school grounds.
With Claerwen's light to guide him, Charlie began to walk back to the small door, hoping that no one else had found it. Turning a bend in the tunnel, he suddenly found himself caught in the light of a leaping flame.
"Aha!" said a mocking voice. "What have we here? A boy with a box, no doubt."
Charlie stood frozen to the spot. "I haven't got a box," he said, his voice husky with fear.
"Oh, no? I think you have!" The leaping flame drew nearer, and Charlie could see the mover's sneering features in the flaring light of a long tarred stick.
"What... what's that you're holding?" Charlie asked in a faint voice.
"Fire! That's what it is," cackled the mover. "Amos Byrne has come to warm you up, Charlie Bone."
6. CHARLIE ESCAPES
Charlie realized that there was no chance of his returning the way he had come. Leaping away from the flames, he ran toward the castle entrance. Too bad if he was caught in the academy grounds; at least he wouldn't be burned to a cinder. He had no doubt that Amos Byrne was in deadly earnest.
Charlie wished he had told someone where he was going. He could feel the heat of the flames on his back. The mover was gaining ground. He held the torch at arms' length and Charlie inhaled an acrid bitterness. His head felt as though it was on fire and, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he found that his hair had been scorched by flying embers.
Yelping with fear, Charlie rushed toward the distant light at the end of the tunnel. But a sudden ray of hope was immediately dashed when he realized that a ruined castle would be no protection from a villain with a fiery torch.
Where can I go? Charlie's eyes were open, but his mind was closed to his surroundings, for he was desperately seeking a way of escape. He was never sure when the knight had appeared. Perhaps he had been there, at the end of the tunnel, all the time, sitting astride the white mare, his armor glimmering faintly in the dusk.
Charlie almost stopped dead in his tracks. But he didn't. He found, to his surprise, that he was still running. Faster and faster. As he drew closer to the horse and its rider, the Red Knight suddenly lifted his sword and, again, Charlie was choked with fear and almost stopped. But a voice reached into his head, quiet and commanding.
"Run, boy. RUN!"
And Charlie ran. Losing his terror of the sword, he put on a burst of speed he didn't dream that he had. But Amos was not deterred by the sight of a gleaming sword. He had great confidence in the fire he carried. It was what he lived by, and it had never let him down. He kept up his pace and rushed at the horse, hoping to terrify the creature into throwing its rider.
Charlie bounded past the mare and tore into the trees that grew inside the ruin. Flinging himself behind a broken wall, he lay, gasping for breath, while a stream of oaths filled the air.
The white mare gave a high-pitched snort of fear, then came a scream that curdled Charlie's blood. There was a moment of utter silence, before hoofbeats could be heard receding slowly into the distance.
It was several minutes before Charlie felt brave enough to raise his head above the wall. Darkness was falling fast, but he could just make out a dark figure lying close to the tree whose branches hung above the tunnel entrance.
Amos Byrne lay motionless, one outstretched hand reaching for the long torch that lay just beyond him, its flame extinguished. Charlie was caught between a sigh of relief and a shudder of horror. Now he must find a way out of the ruin, and then out of the academy grounds. All at once, he felt deeply weary.
The next few minutes were going to be very tricky.
Charlie had often explored the ancient castle. He knew that if he continued along the hedged walkway behind him, he would eventually come to the glade where he had once seen the Red King, or rather, the enchanted tree that the Red King had become. But then where could he go? He had never approached the glade from the academy grounds. It was a secret place, impossible to find except by going through the tunnel.
"Claerwen!" Charlie called.
The white moth crawled out of his sleeve and sat on his hand. Charlie was glad to see her. For a moment he had wondered if she had flown into the flames, as moths are inclined to do. "But you're too clever for that, aren't you, Claerwen?" Charlie said cheerfully. "The thing is, how are we going to get out of here?"
Claerwen had no answer for him. She fluttered onto a branch and closed her wings until they became a tiny triangle of light.
Something brushed against Charlie's legs. First one side, then the other. He looked down and saw that he was surrounded by cats. Three of them. With both hands, Charlie stroked their heads, first Leo's, then the other two. They all began to purr.
Charlie's laugh was both happy and nervous. "You're going to get me out of here, aren't you?" he said.
The cats gazed at him with their bright golden eyes and then they were off.
They moved fast, jumping over broken walls and slipping easily through the undergrowth, and if ever Charlie fell too far behind, one of them would wait until he caught up with them again.
They came, at last, to the wide expanse of grass that lay between the school and the woods that surrounded the castle. The cats became more cautious now.
They sniffed the air and moved carefully through the bare trees, turning now and again to look back at Charlie. He was heavier than the cats; twigs snapped beneath his feet, and the undergrowth rustled as he brushed it aside.
The Bloors are too far away to hear me, he thought. But suddenly several lights came on in the school, and a distant voice called, "Is anyone there?
Show yourself, you miserable, creeping thing."
Charlie recognized Weedon's voice. He can't possibly have seen me, thought Charlie. The surly porter was surely not clairvoyant. But someone else could be. Mrs. Tilpin? Who knew what witches could do? And then he began to wonder if Amos had recovered and returned to tell the Bloors that Charlie had run into the school grounds.
Standing still wasn't going to get him anywhere, Charlie reasoned. The cats were growling now, anxious to get him on the move again. He began to follow them, keeping an eye on the school building. It was as well that he did. For he saw the door open and two figures step out; they stood beneath the lamp that hung over the door and stared across the grounds. Charlie could see them clearly. One was Lord Grimwald; the other, the swordsman from the past, Ashkelan Kepaldi. They began to stride across the grass. Lord Grimwald held a tall lantern that swayed violently as he lurched over the lawn. Ashkelan's sword danced in the air beside its master.
The cats' growling turned to a soft hissing, and they flew away through the woods. This time Charlie kept up with them. As he ran, he couldn't help thinking about the wall they were approaching; it was ten feet high and stood between the grounds of Bloor's Academy and the outside world. How would he ever scale it? He wasn't a cat.
The ancient wall was covered in ivy and it was difficult to make out in the gloom. Charlie first became aware of it when he saw Leo's bright form climbing quickly to the top. Aries followed, but Sagittarius waited. At dusk he was the brightest of the three, his coat gleaming like a star. He seemed to be waiting for Charlie to climb.
Charlie squinted up at the mass of dark ivy; he saw a thick stem protruding from the wall a foot above him and reached for it. With both hands, he pulled himself up, bringing his feet behind him. The leaves were slippery and it took him some time to get a foothold. Leo and Aries looked down, and, following their gaze, Charlie saw another stem. It appeared to be out of his reach, until Sagittarius, climbing swiftly beside him, clawed at the leaves, revealing a strong loop, lower down. Charlie hoisted himself up another foot.