"I don't understand," Charlie kept repeating. "Where have you been? When I thought of you, I always saw a little boat far out on the sea. And then there were all those postcards with foreign stamps."
"Charlie, I'm so sorry." His mother hugged him again. "We hated doing this to you, but we had to make sure that the Bloors never guessed who the Red Knight was. We couldn't let them find out by hypnotism, clairvoyance, or any of their dreadful tricks."
"What difference would it have made?"
Amy Bone touched her son's bruised face and looked into his eyes. "They would have held you for ransom, Charlie.
They would have kidnapped you, imprisoned you, perhaps even threatened to torture you if Lyell didn't give up his quest. So they had to believe it was someone else wearing the red cloak and riding the white mare."
"I thought it was Bartholomew Bloor," said Charlie, "because he wears a blue winter coat and Gabriel saw his father give the cloak to a man in a dark-colored winter coat."
His mother smiled. "Ah, Mr. Silk knew the truth. He was the only one apart from Bartholomew."
"Why did he have to know?"
"Because he was on that boat, Charlie. There really was a boat called Greywing, and it was sailing up the Australian coast. Bartholomew had always wanted to go whale watching. He's a great sailor and was quite confident that he could survive Lord Grimwald's storms. He and his family are on their way back to the city right now."
"Phew!" It still didn't make sense to Charlie.
"Whenever I thought of you and Dad, I saw the boat. But why, if you weren't on it?"
Amy shook her head. "I'm sorry, Charlie. We had to make you believe that we were there in case you were hypnotized and Manfred got at the truth."
"I was hypnotized," said Charlie, frowning. "So someone must have gotten into my head and made me believe you were there on that boat. Hmmm. I wish I knew who it was."
His mother hesitated. She seemed to be in a dilemma, so Charlie kept his eyes on her face, determined to get an answer.
"It was Sehor Alvaro," she said at last. "He's very gifted in that way."
"I'll say." Charlie could hardly believe it.
A doctor approached them. His cheerful smile told them that Lyell wasn't in any danger. They were shown into a small room where Lyell was sitting up in bed. His head had been wrapped in a bandage, and one arm was in a sling.
Charlie wanted to hug him but he couldn't see how, so instead he kissed his father's cheek and clung to his free hand.
"Forgive me, Charlie!" Lyell's dark eyes glistened. "I don't deserve you."
"Mom told me everything," said Charlie shyly. He felt ashamed that he had doubted his father, who after all was a hero.
Lyell squeezed his hand. "You have every right to be angry with us."
Charlie vigorously shook his head. "The enchanter had to be killed, didn't he? So he'd never, ever try to take the city again."
"I so nearly didn't succeed. You saved my life, Charlie."
"Did I?" It hadn't occurred to Charlie until now.
"There are a few more things to do before the city is completely purged," his father said wryly.
"Bloor's Academy?" Charlie suggested.
Lyell gave a grim smile. "In a few days, I'll be myself, and we'll put everything to rights, you and I, won't we?"
"You bet," said Charlie.
Charlie and his mother stayed with the patient for another hour, and Charlie learned where his mother had been staying while her husband roamed the city as the Red Knight.
"Do you remember the Hundred Heads' dinner?" asked Amy.
How could Charlie forget? "It's when I found out about Mrs. Tilpin and the enchanter," he said.
"There was a man in a blue turban."
"Yes. He saw me and Billy hiding under the table, but he didn't give us away."
"His name is Mr. Singh," said Amy. "He's Officer Singh's father and he let me stay in his house in the south. I wanted to stay with you, Charlie, but it would have looked suspicious if Lyell and I parted when we had only just been reunited. Mr. Singh is, of course, a descendant of the Red King."
"Then so is Officer Singh!"
A nurse came in with a tray of pills, and Charlie and his mother said good-bye to Lyell, promising to return the next day. On their way out they caught sight of Miss Ingledew leaving another ward. She looked rather flustered.
Charlie ran up to Miss Ingledew, crying, "Where's my uncle? Have you seen him?" And then he remembered their disagreement and said hesitantly, "Or was it someone else you were visiting?"
Miss Ingledew smiled. "It was Paton," she said. "He's not badly injured. He said something about leopards helping, which I didn't really understand. But there's been a bit of trouble with the lights. They've had to move him twice, but of course the same thing happened every time."
Charlie tried to hide a grin behind his hand. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Luckily, no," said Miss Ingledew. "But there was an awful mess. Glass everywhere. He's been put in a little room by himself, just inside the door.
He'll be out tomorrow, to everyone's relief, I should imagine."
Charlie didn't wait to hear any more. Pushing through the swinging doors, he found his uncle's room and flung his arms around the long thin man, who was scratching at a bandage that poked out of the top of his pajamas.
"Blasted thing. Itches like mad," Paton complained when Charlie released his grip. "Hello, Charlie. Well done all around, I say. What a day, eh? We learned a few secrets at last. My word, your father's a dark horse."
Charlie kept nodding. When he thought his uncle had finally said all he wanted, he asked, "Have you and Miss Ingledew... ?"
"Made up our silly quarrel? Yes, we have. She was very kind. Blames herself, though it was all my fault, no doubt, rushing about the country, poking into family affairs." He gave a false sort of cough and added, "Being injured does wonders, when it comes to... er, relationships, you know. You look a bit the worse for wear yourself, Charlie." Paton gave another odd cough. "Ah, nurse is coming. Visitors out, Charlie. But before you go"—he grabbed Charlie's hand—"I want you to be the first to know..." His cheeks turned a healthy pink.
"Know what?" asked Charlie.
"Miss... er... Julia... uh..." Paton seemed to be having trouble with his throat today, though his wound was in his chest. Charlie waited patiently for the spasm to pass. "Yes. She... er... has agreed to marry me."
"WOW!" yelled Charlie. "That's outstanding!"
A nurse rushed toward him, calling, "Out, young man!"
By the time Charlie and his mother got home, a great deal had happened at number nine. Grandma Bone had left, for one thing.
"She's gone to live with her sisters," Maisie told them. "Though I don't know how long that will last."
Alice Angel was putting her old house to rights. She had decided to sell her shop in Steppingstones and come back to live in her old home.
On Sunday evening, people began to return to the city. They behaved as though they had just left for an ordinary weekend away. The pernicious fog that had covered their homes was considered a mere coincidence. No mention was made of the battle that had happened. It was an event that most people couldn't really take in. Everyone agreed that it was going to be a beautiful Easter.
Daffodils and irises were already blooming in gardens, and the avenues were filled with fragrant cherry blossoms. A curious optimism pervaded the streets.
The wild strangers that had invaded Piminy Street seemed to have vanished as mysteriously as they had arrived. Mrs. Kettle was now the only resident. She was sure that more congenial neighbors would arrive in time. Her great sword now hung back in its place on the wall of her blacksmith shop, and the blue boa once more roamed around the kettles—now you saw him, now you didn't.
Mrs. Kettle had offered Dagbert Endless a home, which he had joyfully accepted. He contemplated a long and happy life making beautiful iron objects. "Not necessarily weapons," he told Mrs. Kettle, "but maybe ceremonial swords and ornamental gates and stuff like that."