No. A wave of nausea made Charlie sit down, quickly, on his bed. He was far more frightened for Billy than he had been for himself. What chance did Billy have, with his white hair and poor eyesight? The shadow's army was bound to catch him. But what possible reason could the count have for taking Billy and letting Runner Bean go?
Unless it had been the shadow's plan all along? He had known that Billy could never resist a cry for help from a dog. Charlie remembered Manfred's insistence that Billy should come back to number nine, where the painting of Badlock waited like a trap.
Charlie tore downstairs. "He's gone, Maisie. And I know where. He's in that painting."
"I can't believe it, Charlie," said Maisie. "If he's gone, I'm going to call the police, there's no two ways about it." She went into the hall and began to dial.208Knowing it would be useless to try and stop her, Charlie waited in the kitchen. He listened to Maisie's voice, insisting that a child named Billy Raven was missing, and then her angry response to something she'd been told. "Bloor's Academy. Mr. Ezekiel Bloor, or perhaps the headmaster, Dr. Bloor. But the boy disappeared from here, not there."
There was a pause while Maisie sighed heavily and tapped her foot. "Thank you. And will you let me know?... I'll call you, then. Good-bye." She slammed down the phone and came back to the kitchen, looking flushed and angry.
"They can't proceed until they're authorized to do so by the child's guardian," said Maisie.
"I suppose it must be Dr. Bloor, since Billy's an orphan. What a mess!"
Charlie said nothing. He was now utterly convinced that Billy had been captured by the painting. How pleased Grandma Bone had been when she saw Billy arrive. It was obviously she who had locked the cellar door after Billy had "gone in."209Charlie sat by the kitchen window waiting for Uncle Paton to arrive in the white camper van. He saw Benjamin and Runner Bean walk down to the park. He saw Mrs. Brown go to the mailbox; she was wearing a skirt and high-heeled shoes, for a change. It was no use telling Mrs. Brown that Billy was still missing.
Maisie brought Charlie a mug of hot cocoa. "Your uncle might not come back till next week. Don't look so forlorn, Charlie. I'm sure little Billy will turn up."
"He won't," muttered Charlie.
He discovered that the cellar door key was still in his pocket. When he'd finished his cocoa, he went down into the cellar and stared at the painting of Badlock. He scrutinized every inch of it, looking for a way in. He didn't care if he was caught again, if only he could find Billy. But the shadow had no use for Charlie Bone at present. It was Billy he wanted.
"Why have you taken him?" Charlie shouted at the painting. "Have you made a bargain?
Billy for your freedom to travel back into the world? Well, you210won't do it, Count Harken. Not now: The Mirror of Amoret was broken, so there's no way back. EVER!"
A blast of wind hurled Charlie against the opposite wall.
"You heard me, then!" he cried.
Dust, laden with splinters, flew into his face, and he covered his eyes just in time. His nostrils were filled with grit: It even crept between his teeth. Choking and sneezing, Charlie crawled across the cellar floor. He stumbled up the steps and fell into the hall. As he lay there, rubbing his eyes and spitting dust, he became aware of a tall figure looming over him.
"Foolish boy," said Grandma Bone. "What did you hope to achieve?"
Charlie sat up and glared at her. "You did it, didn't you? You opened the cellar door and then locked it behind Billy. I know he's in Badlock, and somehow I'm going to get him out."
"Don't meddle with the shadow," she said grimly.211Charlie watched his grandmother walk to the front door. She was wearing her Sunday best: shiny black shoes, a Persian lamb coat, and a purple velvet hat. The back of her bony shoulders expressed utter contempt.
There was roast beef for lunch, accompanied by Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, crispy sprouts, and rich gravy. It was Charlie's favorite meal, and he tried to do it justice, but the
food kept sticking in his throat, and he had to lay down his knife and fork. "I'm sorry, Maisie, it just won't go down," he said.
"Tell you what, I'll give the police a call," said Maisie. "Let's see if they've made any progress."
Charlie didn't expect to hear good news, but he was totally unprepared for what Maisie had to tell him. She came running back from the phone, crying, "They've found him, Charlie."
Charlie stood up, his fork clattering to the floor. "Found him?" he said in disbelief.
"He went back to Bloor's, that's what the police212said. They rang the school, and Dr.
Bloor said that Billy had turned up very early this morning. He was feeling homesick, the headmaster said."
"But, Maisie, he left his clothes, even his slippers. He couldn't have walked all that way in bare feet and pajamas."
"Then they're lying, Charlie, and I don't know what I can do about that." She ran the tap, and water splashed loudly onto the dirty plates and pans. "I wish your parents were here,"
she muttered. "Your father understands these things better than I do."
"Well, he isn't here," said Charlie. Adding bitterly, "He's never here."
Maisie turned to face Charlie. She didn't reprimand him for what he'd said. Instead, a look of pity crossed her face. "I'm sorry, Charlie," she said gently. "These things that happen to you and your friends, they're beyond my comprehension. I just can't deal with them."
"I'll go to the bookstore," said Charlie, leaving the kitchen. "The others may be there."213"Don't go alone, Charlie, please," called Maisie. "I know something's not right in this city, even if I can't understand it. I believe in your flying trolls and magic kettles and... and evil paintings, you know I do. I just get so upset sometimes."
Charlie's mind was made up. But as luck would have it, he didn't have to go out alone.
The doorbell rang, and when Charlie opened the door, there stood Benjamin and Runner Bean.
"Want to come over to my place?" said Benjamin.
When Charlie explained that he was on his way to the bookstore, Benjamin agreed to go with him.
On their way to Ingledew's, Charlie brought Benjamin up to date. Runner Bean bounded along in front of them, as though he were trying to escape from his own tail. His eyes still had a wary look, and he was easily spooked. Flying litter, swinging gates, and honking cars all had him leaping sideways with a loud yelp.
"I can't believe a headmaster would lie," Benjamin panted, as they ran to catch up with the yellow dog.214"Well, he did," said Charlie. "I know that Billy's in Badlock. What I can't figure out is why the shadow wants him."
They were now in the older part of the city, where the great cathedral towered above the surrounding stores and houses. Runner Bean had dropped behind them for some reason.
Every now and again he would give a low whine and sniff anxiously around a doorstep or a streetlight. All at once, the dog's whining became a full-blooded yelp of terror.
Charlie and Benjamin turned to see a huge and hideous creature approaching. The thing had to be a dog, but its legs were like concrete pipes, and its body showed not a trace of hair. Its head was a grotesque mockery of a hound, with a broad snout and dead stony
eyes. The "thing" had teeth, however. Oh, yes, it had teeth, longer and sharper than any earthly dog should have.
Runner Bean growled and, with incredible courage, moved forward - his ears were back, his body215was low, and his tail touched the ground. He was afraid but determined to defend the boys.
Benjamin grabbed Charlie's arm so tightly it hurt. "That thing will kill him, Charlie."
Charlie was thinking fast. Eric had to be near. It was Eric they had to deal with, not the hound. Charlie scanned the doorways and saw a crouching form, tucked behind a narrow porch.
"Ben, get Runner to stop that boy," cried Charlie. "See! There! Quickly!"
The two dogs were getting closer to each other. The stone hound's feet pounded the cobblestoned street like a slow, heavy machine. Thump! Thump! Thump! And then it made a sound, hollow and unearthly. It stopped Runner Bean in his tracks, but he didn't retreat.