"It's me, Charlie," called Charlie.
Miss Ingledew crossed to the door and unlocked it. "Whatever are you doing here at this time of the morning?" she asked, not unkindly.
The Flames, satisfied that Charlie was safe, went about their business.
Charlie bounded down the steps into the store. "It'll take me a while to explain," he said.
"You'd better come and have some breakfast." Miss Ingledew led him through her living room and into the small kitchen at the back of the house. Charlie was surprised to see Olivia and Emma eating343boiled eggs. Or rather, Olivia was eating. Emma hadn't touched her egg.
"Wow! You're having breakfast early for a Saturday," Charlie remarked.
"And you're having a walk early for a Saturday," said Olivia.
Emma lifted a wan face and said, "I can't sleep and that makes it difficult for anyone else to sleep. Do you want an egg, Charlie?"
Charlie was so shaken by Emma's mournful expression he didn't know what to say. "No...
er, yes... urn, just toast," he mumbled.
"Don't look so shocked, Charlie," Olivia barked. "How would you feel if someone you really cared for was... well, that you were never going to see them again?"
"I'd feel bad," he said, taking the chair between them. "I do feel bad," he added. "That's why I'm here."
"It's about Billy, isn't it?" Emma might have been344grief-stricken, but she was still aware of other people's troubles.
"It's just," Charlie began awkwardly, "that Billy still has a chance."
"And Tancred hasn't," said Emma.
"I don't mean that." Charlie leaned sideways as Miss Ingledew put a stack of toast on the table. He suddenly realized that he couldn't speak about the sympathizers' meeting. If Miss Ingledew heard about Mrs. Brown's hair-raising escape from Piminy Street, she was bound to stop Charlie from attempting to get into the Old Chapel.
"What do you mean?" asked Olivia, frowning at Charlie.
"Don't look at me like that," begged Charlie. "You probably think it was all my fault, Tancred's... drowning. But I didn't know he was going to meet Dagbert in the sculpture room. I was locked up. I couldn't do anything about it."
"We don't blame you, Charlie," Emma said gently. "Have you tried to reach Billy again?"345Charlie hesitated. He couldn't mention the Old Chapel with Miss Ingledew hovering behind him. "Not since I found Claerwen," he said.
"You found her? Why didn't you say?" Olivia scolded.
"I forgot." Charlie put his hand in his pocket and felt the moth's delicate feet touch his forefinger. "Here she is." He lifted her out and set her on the marmalade jar, where her silvery wings caught the light from the overhead lamp.
Both girls smiled at last. "Awww!" they breathed.
"She really is beautiful," said Miss Ingledew, sitting opposite Charlie. She swept back her long chestnut hair and asked, "Is your uncle back, Charlie?"
"No. We don't know where he is." Charlie shrugged. "Maisie's tried to call his cell, but there's never an answer. We think he's hundreds of miles away, where there isn't a signal.
Actually, I wish he would come back."
"So do I." Miss Ingledew stared at the moth in a dreamy way for a moment, and then she stood up346and said brusquely, "I must get dressed. I've work to do."
As soon as her aunt had left the room, Emma whispered, "I think she misses your uncle more than she's letting on."
"Definitely," Olivia agreed. "Why don't they get married?"
Charlie didn't know the answer to this. "I think I'd better be going now," he said. "I'll leave by the back door if that's OK."
"Why do you want to go that way?" asked Emma.
"Why did you come here in the first place?" said Olivia. "What for? Just to show us the moth?"
"I'm going to the Old Chapel on Piminy Street," said Charlie in a low voice. "I want to go the back way so that no one sees me. The painting's there."
Olivia raised her eyebrows. "I suppose that'll have to do for now."
The girls followed him to the back door at the far end of the kitchen.347"You can lock it again, after I've gone," said Charlie, stepping into the small yard behind the store.
"Won't you be coming back this way?" asked Emma.
"Urn. Don't know. I'll knock if I do." Charlie made his way past empty book boxes to the gate in the wall. The gate was rusty from lack of use and made a loud screech when Charlie opened and closed it.
He was now in the narrow alley that ran between the backyards of Piminy Street and Cathedral Close. The girls could hear him picking his way over the slippery, uneven cobblestones, long after the dark morning had swallowed him up.
Emma whispered, "I don't like it, Liv. It isn't light yet and the Piminy Street people are
..."
"Dangerous," finished Olivia. "I think we ought to contact the others."
"Who? Fidelio will be at a concert somewhere, Gabriel's running around the city with his petition,348Tancred's ..." - Emma gave a little sigh - "not an option, and Lysander... ah, Lysander!"
"Definitely," said Olivia.
"Yes, of course, Lysander." Emma followed Olivia back into the kitchen, feeling a little less anxious.
Charlie was passing the yard behind the Kettle Shop when a blue flame suddenly lit the window of the workshop. Mrs. Kettle obviously started work early. It was comforting to know that she was close by. Charlie wondered why he hadn't thought of Mrs. Kettle before. He went up to the workshop window and looked in.
The blacksmith, in her coveralls and visor, appeared to be welding a handle onto a large iron kettle. When she saw Charlie, she give a little start, then put down her welding iron and came to the back door.
"What the dickens are you doing here, Charlie Bone?" she asked, pulling up her visor.
Charlie looked furtively over his shoulder and whispered, "I was on my way to the Old Chapel."349"I can guess why," said Mrs. Kettle. "Mrs. Brown spilled the beans. Come in for a minute, Charlie."
Charlie stepped into the warm workshop. It was here that Mrs. Kettle had forged the invincible sword the Red Knight now carried at his side. There were other swords hanging on her walls, Charlie noted with satisfaction, and large tools that could, no doubt, do serious damage.
Mrs. Kettle gathered some of her smaller implements together and put them in a canvas tool bag. "You'd given no thought to the method of entering that chapel, now had you, Charlie?"
"I had, but I didn't come to a definite conclusion," Charlie admitted.
"No, you were going to wait till you got there and then be caught, most probably while you were just standing around thinking. Well, you'll need these for a start." She held up a formidable-looking pair of pliers.
Charlie was impressed. Not only had Mrs. Kettle made no attempt to dissuade him from entering the chapel,350she was actually going to help him. He couldn't stop himself from smiling.
"This is a serious business, Charlie," Mrs. Kettle warned him. "We'll have to be very, very careful."
"Yes, Mrs. Kettle."
"There's something else. Wait here." She went through the heavy door into the Kettle Shop and returned a moment later, carrying a large lidded basket. "Solomon," she said.
"You'll need him."
"The boa?" Charlie stepped back a pace. "Why?"
"Why, d'you think? Invisibility would be a great advantage in a place like Badlock, would it not?"
"Of course," Charlie agreed. "Yes, it would. But I can't talk to Solomon. Only Billy can do that."
"Use your moth. They understand each other. Both are ancient, both have known the Red King."
Mrs. Kettle looked so grave and resolute, Charlie found himself taking the basket without another word. They left the safety of the workshop and made their way cautiously along the alley. The houses on either side loomed against a sky that was already lighter.351It cast a gray wash over the cobblestones beyond reach of the single streetlight. Here and there a light could be seen in one of the windows; the Cathedral Close citizens were waking up, but if the inhabitants of Piminy Street were awake, they showed no sign of it.