Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock (Children of the Red King, Book 7) by Jenny Nimmo
Authors: Jenny Nimmo
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Endless." Manfred beckoned Dagbert over. "I'm extremely busy, as you can see."
"It is the right moth, sir." Dagbert turned the jar over in his hands and laid it upside down before Manfred. Now the moth's wings were barely distinguishable from the white muslin beneath her.
Manfred peered through the thick glass. "You're sure?"
"See the silver on its wings? I know it's Charlie's. I caught it in the hallway of portraits. Thought it was so clever lying on a bunch of painted white lilies. Thought it wouldn't be seen." Dagbert wrinkled his nose. "Funny-looking person in that portrait."
Manfred gave him an icy look. "The person in that portrait was my great-great-great-grandmother, Donatella, a very brave woman. She was accidentally electrocuted in an experiment."
"Sorry," said Dagbert.
"Did anyone help you to do this?" Manfred tapped the jar.
"No, sir." Dagbert felt Manfred's black eyes boring into his, and he had to steady himself against the desk. "That is - only Dorcas. She made the poisoned net."
"That girl has extraordinary talent," Manfred said with satisfaction. "You can go now, Dagbert." He stood up and pointed to the door.
"About the moth," said Dagbert. "I know you want it so Charlie Bone can't travel safely, but I didn't catch it just for that."
"No?" Manfred looked at the trapped moth.
"No, I want to bargain with it. Tancred Torsson stole my sea urchin, and without it I can't... can't..."
"Drown people?" Manfred suggested.
"Not exactly." Dagbert frowned. "I'm just not myself without all my sea-gold creatures."
"Oh, I can deal with Tancred Torsson," said Manfred. "Don't worry, I'll return the moth when I've studied it a little. But make sure Charlie Bone never gets it." He waved a hand at Dagbert. "Now, off you go, and keep an eye on Charlie."
Charlie was standing in the bathroom, feeling very queasy. He wondered if someone had poisoned him. He clung to the sink while the room spun around him. First one way, then the other.
"You OK, Charlie?"
A voice broke through the buzz in Charlie's head. He turned painfully and saw Fidelio standing by the bathroom door.
"I feel a bit funny," said Charlie. He staggered through the door and Fidelio helped him to his bed.
Dagbert Endless came in and stood staring down at Charlie. "Not feeling well?" he asked.
Charlie looked away from Dagbert's startling sea-colored eyes. He felt his strength leaving him. He was so weak he could barely lift his arm. Vague forms moved through the mist that clouded his vision, and he heard Fidelio say, "Matron, Charlie's sick."
The matron's words came booming close to his ear, a deep, indistinct, underwater sound. "Faking it, are you, Charlie? There's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."
The light went out. Charlie lay in the darkness while familiar images tumbled into his head: a knight in a green cloak, a stone troll, and a furious gray sea. But the leopards were absent and so was the knight with red feathers streaming from his silver helmet. And all that remained of the boat was the tip of its mast, sinking slowly into a heaving sea. And then Charlie saw Claerwen, lying in a glass tomb, while the silver sparkle drained from her white wings. With all that remained of his strength, Charlie raised himself onto his elbows and cried, "CLAERWEN!"
Every sleeping boy in the dormitory was now wide awake. Others, who had not yet fallen asleep, began to shout out.
"Shut up!"
"What's he going on about?"
"He's off his rocker!"
One of the first years sniveled, "What's the matter with him?" Someone else burst into tears.
"Calm down, everyone," said Fidelio.
"Charlie's just had a nightmare. It can happen to anyone. Are you OK now, Charlie?"
Charlie sat up. The buzzing in his head had gone. The dizziness had passed. He felt almost like his old self again. "Yes, I'm OK, thanks. I feel great, actually."
Manfred Bloor had put away his great-great-greatgrandfather's tins of desiccated snails, his bottles of aspen oil and monkey tears, his
"It is the right moth, sir." Dagbert turned the jar over in his hands and laid it upside down before Manfred. Now the moth's wings were barely distinguishable from the white muslin beneath her.
Manfred peered through the thick glass. "You're sure?"
"See the silver on its wings? I know it's Charlie's. I caught it in the hallway of portraits. Thought it was so clever lying on a bunch of painted white lilies. Thought it wouldn't be seen." Dagbert wrinkled his nose. "Funny-looking person in that portrait."
Manfred gave him an icy look. "The person in that portrait was my great-great-great-grandmother, Donatella, a very brave woman. She was accidentally electrocuted in an experiment."
"Sorry," said Dagbert.
"Did anyone help you to do this?" Manfred tapped the jar.
"No, sir." Dagbert felt Manfred's black eyes boring into his, and he had to steady himself against the desk. "That is - only Dorcas. She made the poisoned net."
"That girl has extraordinary talent," Manfred said with satisfaction. "You can go now, Dagbert." He stood up and pointed to the door.
"About the moth," said Dagbert. "I know you want it so Charlie Bone can't travel safely, but I didn't catch it just for that."
"No?" Manfred looked at the trapped moth.
"No, I want to bargain with it. Tancred Torsson stole my sea urchin, and without it I can't... can't..."
"Drown people?" Manfred suggested.
"Not exactly." Dagbert frowned. "I'm just not myself without all my sea-gold creatures."
"Oh, I can deal with Tancred Torsson," said Manfred. "Don't worry, I'll return the moth when I've studied it a little. But make sure Charlie Bone never gets it." He waved a hand at Dagbert. "Now, off you go, and keep an eye on Charlie."
Charlie was standing in the bathroom, feeling very queasy. He wondered if someone had poisoned him. He clung to the sink while the room spun around him. First one way, then the other.
"You OK, Charlie?"
A voice broke through the buzz in Charlie's head. He turned painfully and saw Fidelio standing by the bathroom door.
"I feel a bit funny," said Charlie. He staggered through the door and Fidelio helped him to his bed.
Dagbert Endless came in and stood staring down at Charlie. "Not feeling well?" he asked.
Charlie looked away from Dagbert's startling sea-colored eyes. He felt his strength leaving him. He was so weak he could barely lift his arm. Vague forms moved through the mist that clouded his vision, and he heard Fidelio say, "Matron, Charlie's sick."
The matron's words came booming close to his ear, a deep, indistinct, underwater sound. "Faking it, are you, Charlie? There's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."
The light went out. Charlie lay in the darkness while familiar images tumbled into his head: a knight in a green cloak, a stone troll, and a furious gray sea. But the leopards were absent and so was the knight with red feathers streaming from his silver helmet. And all that remained of the boat was the tip of its mast, sinking slowly into a heaving sea. And then Charlie saw Claerwen, lying in a glass tomb, while the silver sparkle drained from her white wings. With all that remained of his strength, Charlie raised himself onto his elbows and cried, "CLAERWEN!"
Every sleeping boy in the dormitory was now wide awake. Others, who had not yet fallen asleep, began to shout out.
"Shut up!"
"What's he going on about?"
"He's off his rocker!"
One of the first years sniveled, "What's the matter with him?" Someone else burst into tears.
"Calm down, everyone," said Fidelio.
"Charlie's just had a nightmare. It can happen to anyone. Are you OK now, Charlie?"
Charlie sat up. The buzzing in his head had gone. The dizziness had passed. He felt almost like his old self again. "Yes, I'm OK, thanks. I feel great, actually."
Manfred Bloor had put away his great-great-greatgrandfather's tins of desiccated snails, his bottles of aspen oil and monkey tears, his
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