It was freezing cold, but he could feel the sweat running down his forehead.
Voices rang out from the direction of the ruin. Lord Grimwald and Ashkelan must have found Amos. They hadn't yet realized that Charlie was on the wall.
He gave a sigh of relief and, letting go of the ivy for a moment, wiped his forehead—and lost his footing. He tumbled to the ground with a groan.
"Sorry!" Charlie whispered to the cats. They regarded him with impatience, disappointment showing in the downturned tails and whiskers.
At least Charlie remembered where his footholds were, and he swiftly climbed to the place from where he had fallen. With the cats' help he pulled himself up the next few feet. He was very near the top when he heard the voices again. His two pursuers were crashing through the trees close to the wall.
With a superhuman effort Charlie heaved himself up, crouched a moment on the bumpy stones at the top of the wall, and, following the cats' example, let himself drop to the ground. He lay on the rough grass beside the wall, winded, shaken, and bruised, while the Flames howled and meowed in his ear.
"Give me a moment," groaned Charlie. "I'm safe now."
But he didn't have a moment. Glancing sideways, he saw a shining blade standing upright in the road. Ashkelan's sword had flown over the wall.
"No!" yelled Charlie. In a second he was on his feet again and running.
The sword pranced behind him, now slicing the air, now clanging on the hard pavement. The Flames darted around it, hissing and spitting, furious with the rod of steel that seemed to have a life of its own.
Ashkelan must have lost control of the dreadful weapon at last. Perhaps it could move only in close proximity to its owner. But when Charlie got to High Street, the sword was no longer behind him. Charlie slowed his pace. He had a stitch in his side, and his legs felt like jelly, but at least he was alive.
The Flames accompanied him to number nine and then they left him, melting into the dusk without a sound.
Charlie wearily climbed the steps up to his front door. When he walked inside, the first thing he noticed was the dark interior of the kitchen.
Maisie was always in the kitchen at this time of day. Where was she? Charlie heard voices coming from the other side of the hall.
Could she be in the living room? He popped his head around the door.
Grandma Bone and her three sisters were sitting around the fire, eating crumpets. There was a plate of toasted tea cakes on the coffee table.
"Oh!" said Charlie, quickly withdrawing his head.
"Come in, Charlie!" called Grandma Bone.
"No, it's all right." Charlie tiptoed across to the dark kitchen.
"It's NOT all right!" shouted Great-aunt Lucretia. "Come here, this minute!"
Charlie ground his teeth. "Now what?" he muttered. He went back to the living room and looked in. "I just wondered where Maisie was," he said.
"Gone shopping!" Grandma Bone told him.
"But it's late." Charlie looked at his watch. It was only half past five. He felt that a whole day and a night had passed since he left the house.
Grandma Bone snickered. "She's probably dropped in to see the kettle woman."
"Oh!" he said again. Charlie wondered what he could have for tea. He eyed the pile of tea cakes.
"Maisie's left something for you in the fridge," said Grandma Bone.
Charlie's heart sank. He would have liked something hot to eat.
"Where've you been?" asked Great-aunt Eustacia. "You smell of smoke."
Eustacia's power was obviously not at its best today, thought Charlie. And then it occurred to him that she was taunting him. She knew very well where he had been. But did she know about Amos, with his fiery torch?
"I think I'll go and have some tea," said Charlie, beginning to back out.
"Eustacia asked you where you had been," said Grandma Bone.
Charlie hesitated. If they already knew where he'd been, what would be the point of lying about it? "If you must know," he said, "I've been to the Pets'
Cafe. But, as you also know, it's been closed for good.
But someone was in there, searching for a box. So I went in, too. But I didn't find anything; neither did he."
All four women stared at him, their thin mouths grim, their black eyes hooded. They seemed to be temporarily struck dumb. And, with a sudden shock, Charlie knew that he'd said too much. He wasn't supposed to know about the box.
Now the hunt would be on. The Bloors would have to find the box before Charlie's father came home. The search had become a deadly game, and Billy Raven's future hung in the balance. So did Lyell Bone's life.
7. OLIVIA AND THE GARGOYLE
The silence lasted only a few seconds, but in that time so many thoughts swept through Charlie's head, he began to feel dizzy. In his mind's eye he saw Billy wandering endlessly through the enchanter's forest; and he saw a wooden box, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, a box that held a secret that could change the lives of everyone he knew.
Grandma Bone's voice reached Charlie as from a great distance. "What's wrong with you, boy? Pull yourself together."
"I am, I am," murmured Charlie, just managing to focus on the pale face that loomed above him.
"What's in your mind?" asked Grandma Bone.
"Nothing," said Charlie.
"Well, Eustacia?" Grandma Bone turned to her sister.
"He was thinking of Billy," said Eustacia, "and the box."
Charlie was rattled. Eustacia was in top form today. "I've never seen the box," he cried. "Well, not the box you mean," he ended lamely.
"Charlie, where's your father?" asked Eustacia, coming to stand beside her sister.
"I don't know, do I? I don't know any more than you do. He's whale watching."
"But when you think about him, what do you see?" Eustacia leaned very close to Charlie, and he flinched at her stale breath.
"Nothing," he said.
"We know you have a gift, Charlie," his grandmother snorted angrily. "We know you can see your father in your mind's eye when you think hard enough. Stop dissembling."
"I don't know what you mean," said Charlie. They must never know about the boat, he thought. And he filled his mind with pictures of his friends: Benjamin and Runner Bean, Fidelio, Olivia and Lysander...
"Well?" Grandma Bone looked at Eustacia.
"Rubbish," said Eustacia. "His mind is filled with rubbish."
Grandma Bone grabbed Charlie's arm and drew him into the kitchen, where she sat him down and made him drink a cup of cold milk. A plate of cheese and crackers was put before him, and Grandma Bone said, "Get it down you. We're all going out."
"But—" Charlie began.
"No buts," she snapped.
Grandma Bone's three sisters crowded into the kitchen. They paced around the table, looking at Charlie. Great-aunt Eustacia never took her eyes off him.
Perhaps she was still trying to read his mind. He must keep the name of the boat from her, the name on the side of a boat that rode the dangerous sea.
For if the name reached Lord Grimwald, there was no knowing what he might do.
"Maisie's not back," Charlie said, through a mouthful of dry crackers. "If I go out again, she'll wonder where I am."
"We'll leave a note," said his grandmother.
"Uncle Paton's not here," cried Charlie desperately. "My parents said that he was in charge."
"They were wrong," said Great-aunt Lucretia coldly. "We're your guardians now."
"That's not true!" retorted Charlie.
"You're coming to Darkly Wynd with us, and there's an end to it." Great-aunt Venetia whisked away the plate of half-eaten crackers. "And we have to go now. My little boy needs me."
Venetia's stepson, spiteful little Eric, had never needed anyone as far as Charlie knew. He spent his time animating stone figures, a dangerous talent, often ending in disaster for his unsuspecting victims.
"I don't understand why I have to go to Darkly Wynd." Charlie twisted nervously in his chair as Grandma Bone snatched his cup and poured the rest of his milk down the drain.
"We want to ask you some questions," said Great-aunt Eustacia.