The Red Knight had gone.
"What happened to his horse?" Uncle Paton wondered aloud.
"She can't look at the island where her children died," Charlie told his uncle.
Uncle Paton frowned. "How would you know that?"
"Billy understands her."424"Ah, Billy," said Uncle Paton.
"I wish I could have brought him back, Uncle P., but he's spellbound. I know it."
"Spells can be broken," his uncle said.
When they got to the camper van, they dried themselves and had a rest. Paton made Charlie change into some of the traveling clothes he kept in the van. Charlie rolled up the long pants and tucked them into the thick woolen socks. He hoisted up the shirt with a belt, but Uncle Paton's spare jacket hung on him like an oversize overcoat.
"You'll do," said Uncle Paton. "At least you're dry. If we set off now, we'll be in the city by dinnertime."
It wasn't something that Charlie looked forward to. He missed the giant and he missed Billy. But most of all he dreaded returning to the place where his mistake had caused a drowning; a place where he would never see Tancred again.
They made a stop at a country inn and bought fish and chips. Charlie, in the grown-up, oversize clothes, received a few odd looks from the locals,425but their attention was diverted when the lights above the bar exploded, and Uncle Paton apologized for the inconvenience.
"Tis only a power cut, sir," said the barman.
"I think you'll find that's not the case." Uncle Paton gave the man a warm smile and he and Charlie marched out, clutching their fish and chips.
As they sat in the van, eating their delicious hot food, Charlie asked his uncle what had taken him so far away, and for so long.
"I've been following a trail," Uncle Paton replied. "It's taken me to places I never knew existed, but I think I've discovered something quite... well, sensational."
Charlie looked up, expectantly. "What?"
"I believe that Billy Raven should have inherited the Bloor fortune. It's a long and complex story, and I know we will have trouble in proving it. But I relish the challenge.
Billy shall have his fortune."
"Then I'll have to bring him back," said Charlie, determined.426Uncle Paton regarded his great-nephew fondly. "I'm sure you will, Charlie."
After they had eaten, Charlie fell into a deep sleep while Uncle Paton drove. He didn't wake up until they were approaching the city. Glancing in the side mirror, he saw the Red Knight and his horse stop at the end of the stone bridge. And then Uncle Paton turned off the main road and the knight disappeared from view.
"Where are we going?" Charlie sat up and looked at his uncle, for they were driving up the hilly road they called the Heights.
"We've been invited to dinner," said Uncle Paton. "Received a call on my cell. I'm told it's a celebration."
"A celebration of what?" asked Charlie.
"I imagine we'll find out when we get there," said his uncle.
They passed the Looms' house, where their headlights were reflected in the glassy eyes of two Rottweilers staring through the barred gate. And then they were beside the walls of the Sage mansion427where Lysander lived, on and on, up and up, until they reached the yard leading to the ramshackle house and barns, where Gabriel and his family kept ducks and geese, goats and gerbils. Charlie expected his uncle to turn into the driveway, but he kept going up the steep road until a dark forest came into view.
Charlie could see the gate leading to the Thunder House. As they drew nearer, the headlights picked out four, no five, figures leaning against the fence rails. Lysander towered above the others, but Charlie quickly made out the rest: Gabriel, Fidelio, Olivia, and Emma. And then he saw a sixth, perched at the very end of the gate, his arms waving, his jacket swirling in a breeze that wasn't there and his blond hair as bright as a crown of stars.
"Tancred!" Charlie shouted.429I was born in Windsor, Berkshire, England, and educated at boarding schools in Kent and Surrey from the age of six until I was sixteen, when I ran
away from school to become a drama student/assistant stage manager with Theater South East. I graduated and acted in repertory theater in various towns and cities.
I left Britain to teach English to three Italian boys in Amalfi, Italy. On my return, I joined the BBC, first as a picture researcher, then assistant floor manager, studio manager (news), and finally director/adaptor withJackanory(a BBC storytelling program for children). I left the BBC to marry Welsh artist David Wynn-Millward and went to live in Wales in my husband's family home. We live in a very old converted water mill, and the river is constantly threatening to break in, which it has done several times in the past, most dramatically on my youngest child's first birthday. During the summer, we run a residential school of art, and I have to move my office, put down tools (typewriter and pencils), and don an apron and cook! We have three grown-up children, Myfanwy, Ianto, and Gwenhwyfar.