Charlie Bone and The Blue Boa (Children Of The Red King, Book 3) by Jenny Nimmo Page B
Authors: Jenny Nimmo
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gaze. A rich smell of burning herbs filled his nostrils and he sneezed violently
"Stop that!" said the voice.
"S-s-achoo — sorry Couldn't help it," said Charlie. He looked past the dark robed figure and scanned the objects on the table.
"What do you want this time, you thief?" said Skarpo.
"I've brought back your wand," said Charlie. “And I was just wondering . . .”
"What?" Skarpo seemed to be looking at the wand. "Take it away" he said in a low voice.
"But I thought you wanted it," said Charlie. "You were so angry when I took it. I came back to exchange it for — well, just a bit of advice, really you being so experienced in magic and everything. I thought you might be able to help me."
"It's not mine, boy I see that now" The sorcerer seemed unable to drag his eyes away from the wand. "Well, I never. It was yours all along."
"I don't understand," said Charlie. "It's not mine. But anyway the thing is, my uncle's very ill, so ill he's lost the power he used to have. It was him who first told me about you, actually so have you got anything for endowed people that have sort of become unendowed?"
"I'd have to see your uncle." Skarpo took a step toward Charlie.
"You can't do that." Charlie took a step backward.
Skarpo moved closer. "I'll have to, my wee fellow How can I help a man I don't see? Besides, I've a mind to peek into your century"
"That's impossible," said Charlie firmly "You belong in your picture."
"I'll hitch a ride with you.” The sorcerer's pale hand stretched out toward Charlie, and Charlie felt something tug his sweater. He stepped backward very fast, saying, "No! No! No! I'm going now. Now! Now!" And again he stepped back. This time he tripped and found himself falling. It was like tumbling through air, down, down, and down.
Charlie had to close his eyes against the horrible pitching and tossing that was happening to his body And then the back of his head hit something hard, with a loud bang.
Charlie opened his eyes. He was lying on his bedroom floor, not quite on the floor but on something small and bumpy.
A muffled voice beneath him said, "Charlie, you're squashing me."
Charlie rolled over and found Billy stretched out beside him. His glasses had fallen off and his eyes were wide with fright.
"Sorry" said Charlie. "What happened?"
"Wee-i-erd," said Billy sitting up. He found his spectacles and put them on. "I held on to you, like you said, but you kept moving backward and saying, 'Now! Now!' and then you tripped over my foot and we both fell down. I couldn't see anything because you were on top of me, but there was an almighty wind and someone stepped on my hand, and the door blew open."
At that moment the front door slammed. The boys were silent, waiting to hear footsteps in the hall. There were none. Charlie got up and looked out of the window There were several people in the street and a few passing cars. And then, in the distance, he saw a dark shadow traveling very fast against the evening light.
Charlie felt slightly queasy Whether it was from banging his head, or the feeling that somehow things had gone a little bit wrong, he wasn't sure.
"What happened in there?" asked Billy pointing at the picture.
Charlie noticed that the sorcerer was still in the painting. That was reassuring. He laid it facedown on the bedside table. "He wanted to come out," he said.
"Perhaps he did come out," said Billy
"No. Couldn't have. Let's get ready for bed. You can use the bathroom first."
The two boys changed into their pajamas, and Billy took his wash kit to the bathroom. In a few minutes he was back, with toothpaste around his mouth and a black rat in his hands. "Look what I've found!" he cried.
"Rembrandt! Where was he?"
"In the bathroom, under the bath." Billy put Rembrandt on Charlie's bed. "It's so good to see you, Rem!"
"I don't think I want Rem in my bed tonight," said Charlie, and he ran down to the kitchen to look for a box.
Unfortunately Grandma Bone was in the kitchen,
"Stop that!" said the voice.
"S-s-achoo — sorry Couldn't help it," said Charlie. He looked past the dark robed figure and scanned the objects on the table.
"What do you want this time, you thief?" said Skarpo.
"I've brought back your wand," said Charlie. “And I was just wondering . . .”
"What?" Skarpo seemed to be looking at the wand. "Take it away" he said in a low voice.
"But I thought you wanted it," said Charlie. "You were so angry when I took it. I came back to exchange it for — well, just a bit of advice, really you being so experienced in magic and everything. I thought you might be able to help me."
"It's not mine, boy I see that now" The sorcerer seemed unable to drag his eyes away from the wand. "Well, I never. It was yours all along."
"I don't understand," said Charlie. "It's not mine. But anyway the thing is, my uncle's very ill, so ill he's lost the power he used to have. It was him who first told me about you, actually so have you got anything for endowed people that have sort of become unendowed?"
"I'd have to see your uncle." Skarpo took a step toward Charlie.
"You can't do that." Charlie took a step backward.
Skarpo moved closer. "I'll have to, my wee fellow How can I help a man I don't see? Besides, I've a mind to peek into your century"
"That's impossible," said Charlie firmly "You belong in your picture."
"I'll hitch a ride with you.” The sorcerer's pale hand stretched out toward Charlie, and Charlie felt something tug his sweater. He stepped backward very fast, saying, "No! No! No! I'm going now. Now! Now!" And again he stepped back. This time he tripped and found himself falling. It was like tumbling through air, down, down, and down.
Charlie had to close his eyes against the horrible pitching and tossing that was happening to his body And then the back of his head hit something hard, with a loud bang.
Charlie opened his eyes. He was lying on his bedroom floor, not quite on the floor but on something small and bumpy.
A muffled voice beneath him said, "Charlie, you're squashing me."
Charlie rolled over and found Billy stretched out beside him. His glasses had fallen off and his eyes were wide with fright.
"Sorry" said Charlie. "What happened?"
"Wee-i-erd," said Billy sitting up. He found his spectacles and put them on. "I held on to you, like you said, but you kept moving backward and saying, 'Now! Now!' and then you tripped over my foot and we both fell down. I couldn't see anything because you were on top of me, but there was an almighty wind and someone stepped on my hand, and the door blew open."
At that moment the front door slammed. The boys were silent, waiting to hear footsteps in the hall. There were none. Charlie got up and looked out of the window There were several people in the street and a few passing cars. And then, in the distance, he saw a dark shadow traveling very fast against the evening light.
Charlie felt slightly queasy Whether it was from banging his head, or the feeling that somehow things had gone a little bit wrong, he wasn't sure.
"What happened in there?" asked Billy pointing at the picture.
Charlie noticed that the sorcerer was still in the painting. That was reassuring. He laid it facedown on the bedside table. "He wanted to come out," he said.
"Perhaps he did come out," said Billy
"No. Couldn't have. Let's get ready for bed. You can use the bathroom first."
The two boys changed into their pajamas, and Billy took his wash kit to the bathroom. In a few minutes he was back, with toothpaste around his mouth and a black rat in his hands. "Look what I've found!" he cried.
"Rembrandt! Where was he?"
"In the bathroom, under the bath." Billy put Rembrandt on Charlie's bed. "It's so good to see you, Rem!"
"I don't think I want Rem in my bed tonight," said Charlie, and he ran down to the kitchen to look for a box.
Unfortunately Grandma Bone was in the kitchen,
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