Charlie briefly lifted Dorgo's cap. "See! It's me. I've come to take you back."
"CHARLIE!" cried Billy.
"Shhh!" warned Charlie. "Someone's coming." The footsteps above had increased their pace. Now they were descending the rough steps.
Charlie fitted Matilda's key into the lock on the cell door, and it swung open. He leaped inside.
"How... how are we going to... ?" Billy began.
Charlie held up the mirror. "With this, and with Claerwen. Hold my hand."
"Wait!" cried Billy. He ran over to his rat, who was crouching beside a small hole in the wall. "He's waiting for his friend," said Billy. "But, Rembrandt, we've got to go." He clutched the rat, who gave a loud squeal and began to struggle violently.
"Quick!" said Charlie, grabbing Billy's hand. "We must go, NOW!" He looked into the mirror and thought of Emma waiting for him in the spare room at number nine. He could see her face now, pale and anxious. Charlie wished himself there, beside her. "Claerwen, let's go," he cried.
Feet appeared, stumbling down into the guard's room. And there was Oddthumb the troll leaping toward the cell, his hand, with its great thumb, extended toward them.
All at once Charlie was rocked off his feet and was tugged upward, the mirror burning one hand and Billy's fingers clutched in the other.
The second journey was nothing like the first. How many tricks could the mirror play, Charlie wondered, as they tumbled through the dark. Wind howled in their ears, and hailstones beat into their faces. Their legs kicked aimlessly, reaching for a solid mass to land on. And still they whirled, over and over, around and around.
"Ahhh!" groaned Charlie. His knees hit the floor and he fell in a crumpled heap, unable to brace himself with either hand, as one still held fast to the mirror and the other clung to Billy Raven.
"That was quite something," said a voice.
Charlie let go of Billy's hand and rolled onto his back.
Emma peered down at him. She was smiling. "You've got him," she said. "Well done."
Charlie turned his head. Billy was lying beside him. One of the lenses in his glasses had cracked and he looked quite sinister with a starburst covering his eye.
"You didn't have time to change, then," Emma remarked.
Charlie slowly got to his feet. He was still wearing Dorgo's woolen cap and ill-fitting gown. Billy was dressed in a blue velvet jacket, braided in gold at the collar and cuffs, and blue velvet trousers. The outfit looked somewhat the worse for wear. The front was stained and the pants torn. On one foot he wore a very long pointed shoe. His other foot was bare.
Rembrandt was sitting on Billy's chest, squealing endlessly. Billy sat up.
"I'm sorry about Gloria," he told the rat in a series of small squeaks. "But it was then or never. Anyway, we couldn't have brought her back."
"Huh!" Rembrandt turned his back on Billy, and a fly buzzed out of his fur.
"How come we managed to bring a fly back, then?" the rat asked sulkily.
Billy couldn't answer that one. "Hi, Em," he said. "It's good to see you."
"You, too," she said. "Nice outfit."
"It was." He looked down at the stains on his jacket. "I hope there's something to eat. I'm really, really hungry." He got up and made for the door, but Charlie held him back.
"You'd better stay in here, Billy," Charlie said. "Grandma Bone might see you, and if the Bloors know you're back, they'll be after you."
Billy sighed, sat down on a box, and rubbed his tummy.
"I'll get you something." Emma rushed off.
As Charlie pulled off Dorgo's clothes he glanced out the window and noticed that the rooftops he could usually see were now completely obscured by the fog. By the time he tidied himself up, Emma was back with a tray of cakes and orange juice, and also Alice Angel. When Billy saw Alice, the eye behind his good lens widened in terror and he pushed himself, and his box, back into a corner. But Alice knelt beside him, not too close but near enough for him to take her hand if he needed to. "Billy, you must be so frightened," she said.
"What a journey you've had.
You're safe now. My name is Alice Angel and I won't let anything happen to you."
Billy relaxed and a smile touched the corners of his mouth. "I'm Billy Raven," he said, clasping her hand. "And that's Rembrandt." He pointed at the rat, who was sulking in a corner, facing the wall. "He had to leave his girlfriend behind in Badlock, and he's very upset about it."
Alice covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn't hold back a peal of laughter. Emma joined in, and even Billy started to giggle. But Charlie thought of Matilda and couldn't find the joke funny.
"I'm glad I'm back," Billy said, "and Rembrandt will be too when he's found another girlfriend. I suppose I was silly to like it so much in Badlock. But the count was nice to me at first. He made all those animals for me, and even if they didn't have hearts, they let me pet them, and the tiger even purred.
But then I was put in that dungeon. I think the count got bored with me.
Maybe he thought I'd be useful, and then he found out that all I could do was talk to animals"—
Billy took off his glasses and touched the frame of the shattered lens—"and that wasn't good enough."
"Count Harken trapped you in Badlock because the Bloors wanted it," Charlie said.
"Why?" asked Billy.
Charlie didn't think that now was the right time to tell Billy that he would inherit the Bloor family fortune, if a certain will, in a certain box, could be found. Uncle Paton had been reluctant to discuss the hidden will just lately. Perhaps he had changed his mind about it.
The doorbell rang and voices could be heard down in the hall. Charlie went out onto the landing and called, "Who is it, Maisie?"
Maisie came to the foot of the stairwell and said, "Miss Ingledew's come for Emma."
"Miss Ingledew?" said Charlie. "Why?"
Emma ran out onto the landing, crying, "I'm sorry, Auntie, so sorry. I should have come straight home."
"She can't hear you," shouted Maisie. "She won't come in, but she doesn't want you to walk home alone. The fog's getting thicker."
"Emma, take this, it's finished." Alice handed Emma a white plastic bag.
"The vest," said Emma, peeping into the bag.
Alice nodded. "Good luck."
"Thank you, Alice!" Emma kissed Alice's cheek and ran down the stairs. She reached the landing below just as Grandma Bone came out of the bathroom.
"What are you doing here?" Grandma Bone demanded, seizing Emma's shoulder.
"Paying a visit," said Emma, wriggling free and bounding down the next flight.
"At this time of the morning?" Grandma Bone leaned over the banister and stared down into the hall. "Maisie, why's the front door open? What's going on?"
Before Maisie could reply, Alice Angel appeared at the top of the stairwell and called down to Grandma Bone.
"There's nothing to worry about, Grizelda. Go back to bed and I'll bring you a nice cup of tea."
"Oh." Grandma Bone looked confused. "All right, then." She padded back to her bedroom and closed the door. Emma left the house at the same moment, and Maisie shut the front door. Half a second later, Uncle Paton opened his bedroom door and, looking up at Charlie, asked, "Was that... ?"
"Miss Ingledew, Uncle P.," said Charlie.
"She didn't come in, then?" his uncle inquired, tentatively.
Feeling a little uncomfortable, Charlie replied, "No, Uncle."
"I see." Uncle Paton withdrew his head, and Charlie felt even worse.
In the spare room, Billy had coaxed Rembrandt out of his corner with a piece of fruitcake, the rat's favorite. The fly that had traveled from Badlock in Rembrandt's fur was now buzzing around the window.
"I don't like the look of that fly," said Alice, trying to swat it with a duster.
Charlie noticed that, in a certain light, the fly looked green. Claerwen fluttered after it, but the fly dropped behind a pile of books on a shelf and went quiet.
Alice went to tell Maisie what had been going on and to fetch Grandma Bone a cup of tea. Charlie ran down to his bedroom to look for some clothes for Billy. It was decided that Billy should stay in the spare room until other arrangements could be made. What those arrangements might be, nobody could work out just yet. Even Alice was stumped. And when Charlie asked his uncle for advice, Paton just stared at Charlie as if he'd been told that a Martian was sitting in the spare room.