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On their way, Charlie noticed that the great hall seemed emptier than usual. And then he realized there was not one purple cape in sight. The drama students were all missing.

It was not until first break that they found out what had happened. In the wide frosty field behind the academy, purple capes could now be seen on children jogging around the perimeter, talking in groups, or playing soccer at the far end. The academy capes were made of thick wool, and the hoods were particularly comforting on cold winter mornings.

Olivia, her purple hood pulled well down over her matching curls, rushed up to Charlie and Fidelio, with Emma hot on her heels.

Olivia breathlessly gave them the news. "There was an accident. It was awful. The Onimouses were on their bike, you know how they ride. Mrs. Onimous in front, pedaling, and Mr. Onimous on a little seat behind her. Well, a mysterious motorcyclist109ran into them and they both fell off. The motorcycle disappeared, but then a car, trying to avoid them, backed into our bus. There was glass everywhere, and we all had to get out and walk to school."

"But the Onimouses!" Charlie exclaimed.

"Well, Mrs. Onimous stood up. I saw her," said Olivia. "She was a bit shaky, but OK, I think. Not sure about him, though. He was lying as still as a stone."

Gabriel and Billy had joined the group. Billy began twisting his hands together. "What about my rat?" he cried. "What about Rembrandt? Who's going to feed him?"

Olivia said sternly, "I'm sure your rat is perfectly capable of looking after himself. It's the poor Onimouses we should be thinking about. We don't even know if Mr. Onimous is alive."

Billy looked sheepishly at his feet. "Sorry," he muttered. "I've had a bad weekend."

Billy's remark pricked Charlie's conscience. He should have invited Billy home with him.

He was about to mention the following weekend, when110the sound of a horn rang out over the field. Break was over.

The small group began to drift toward the school door, and Fidelio said, "What we should be asking ourselves is, who knocked the Onimouses off their bike?"

"And why?" added Emma. "Mrs. Onimous is a fantastic cyclist."

Charlie was about to say that Norton Cross, the Pets' Cafe doorman, owned a motorcycle.

But the idea that Norton could have caused the accident was preposterous.

Just as Charlie was going into his French class, he was roughly pulled aside. "I want a word with you," said Manfred Bloor.

"But I'll be late for Fr -" Charlie began.

"Not now," said Manfred. "Come to the King's room five minutes before homework."

"Yes, sir." Charlie eased himself out of Manfred's painful grip and rushed into the French room. Madame Tessier was about to begin the lesson and111Charlie was lucky to avoid her beady French eye, as he snuck to his desk at the back.

For the rest of the day Charlie's thoughts kept turning to his forthcoming meeting with Manfred. The headmaster's son was now the talents master. He'd been head boy when Charlie entered the school a year and a half ago. A head boy who used his hypnotic power to terrorize the younger students. Charlie had been one of his victims. But gradually, Manfred's power had waned until Charlie had begun to feel almost safe looking into those coal-black eyes. And yet, today, he'd noticed an odd glint in Manfred's gaze, and he began to dread the evening ahead.

"What's wrong, Charlie?" asked Fidelio. "Don't you want your fish cakes?"

Charlie shook his head. "You can have them. I feel kind of queasy."

They were sitting at one of the long tables that ran the length of the dining hall. Dinner had been particularly good. Fish cakes with broccoli and cheese.112All around Charlie there were murmurs of approval and enjoyment. "Mmm," "Yum-yum," "Ahhh!" Plates were scraped and one or two surreptitiously licked. But Charlie had lost his appetite. His gaze constantly slid to the staff table on the dais at the end of the room, where Manfred sat between Mr. Paltry, woodwinds, and Mrs. Marlowe, drama.

"Charlie! Charlie!" Charlie gradually became aware that Billy, on his other side, was whispering to him.

"What did you say?" asked Charlie.

Billy, trying not to move his lips, whispered, "Mrs. Tilpin is still here."

Fidelio overheard him. "Do you mean Joshua's mom. The witch?"

"Shhh!" begged Billy. "I'm already in trouble. They said I was spying on them."

"Who?" said Charlie.

"Dorcas, Dagbert, and the twins, and Joshua, of course. They were in this dark old room in the basement. And then Manfred came in." Billy threw113a frightened glance at the staff table. "I think something's going on between them - Mrs. Tilpin and Manfred, I mean."

Charlie gave a moan. "Manfred wants to see me alone after supper."

"I'll come with you, if you like," Fidelio offered.

"You can't," said Charlie mournfully. "You're not endowed. I've got to meet him in the King's room, and you won't be allowed anywhere near it."

Fidelio grimaced. "Oh, well. He can't eat you, Charlie."

"Maybe not," said Charlie, "but I've got a feeling he can hypnotize me."

It was no good trying to put off the meeting. Charlie knew he would only get detention if he was late. After dinner, he collected his books from his desk and trudged up to the King's room. Theother endowed children will be arriving very soon,he thought,so Manfred might not have time to do anything too unpleasant.114In a circular room on the third floor, a portrait of the Red King hung between shelves of ancient-looking books.

The king's features could barely be discerned in the cracked and darkened paint, but a gold crown glinted on his black hair, and his red cloak fell around him in soft, velvetlike folds.

"Charlie Bone," said Manfred as Charlie sidled through the tall black doors. Manfred was standing opposite Charlie, on the other side of a large round table. "Sit down, Charlie!"

he commanded.

Charlie took the nearest chair and sat down, facing Manfred. The talents master continued to stand, and Charlie immediately felt at a disadvantage.

"Why didn't you invite Billy Raven home with you last weekend?" asked Manfred.

Charlie struggled to understand why he was being asked such a simple question. What was behind it?

"Have you had a fight with Billy?" Manfred persisted.

"No," said Charlie.

"You always invite Billy home." Manfred put his115hands on the table and bent forward.

"So what went wrong?"

"I... nothing." Charlie was thoroughly confused. "I just forgot."

"You FORGOT?"

Was it a crime, forgetting to ask a friend home? Now Charlie was suspicious.

"You won't forget next time, will you, Charlie?" Manfred's eyes glinted. The coal-black irises were quartered with flicks of blazing light.

Charlie felt an intense pain in the center of his forehead. Why is Manfred doing this? he wondered. He doesn't have to hypnotize me. I would have asked Billy home next weekend, anyway. Having to resist Manfred's gaze made Charlie angry. It had happened before and Charlie had discovered that he could block the hypnotist. He had to look beyond the black glare and into the mind of Manfred Bloor.

Images swam before Charlie's eyes: a knight in a green cloak; a stone troll; and, last of all, far, far out on a furious gray sea, the sail of a tiny boat.116"No!" cried Charlie. The pain in his head increased. He thought he could bear it no longer. He would have to let go.

"You will... ," came the words. "You will ..."

"Will...?" Charlie murmured. He felt his head sinking forward. And then another image cut through the darkness in his head: a knight on a white horse, red feathers streaming from his silver helmet, and a sword whose blade flashed like a ray of the sun.

The dark figure on the other side of the table began to sink. Charlie heard a distant roar, and then the doors behind him opened, and he was surrounded by moving, murmuring forms. Charlie sat up and rubbed his eyes.