Jenny Nimmo - Charlie Bone and the Red Knight

‘I’ve told Julia about the things you saw tonight.’ Paton handed Tancred a mug of tea.

‘Thanks, Mr Yewbeam!’ Tancred clutched the warm mug. ‘But you saw them too,’ he added anxiously. ‘You know I didn’t imagine it.’

‘What did you see?’ Emma demanded as she reached for her tea. ‘What’s been going on?’ She turned to Tancred. ‘And, come to that, why are you here, in the middle of the night?’

Tancred explained that he had come to warn the Onimouses that Norton Cross, their doorman, could no longer be trusted. He went on to describe the extraordinary events that had followed: the foreign swordsman who seemed to have stepped from the past, the sword that fought on its own and the mounted knight in his scarlet cloak. ‘If the knight hadn’t turned up, I’d have been done for,’ Tancred finished dramatically.

Emma’s grey eyes widened. ‘Oh, Tancred!’

Tancred glanced at her anxious face and smiled. ‘Funny thing is, I recognised the swordsman. I’m sure I’ve seen him in the school – in a painting, that is.’

‘You have.’ Paton lowered himself into an armchair by the fire. ‘I saw him once, and have never forgotten it. He is one of Mrs Tilpin’s forbears. I imagine it was she who brought the man into our world.’

‘With the help of a mirror that does not belong to her, no doubt,’ Miss Ingledew remarked crisply.

‘Charlie’s mirror?’ said Emma.

‘Indeed.’ Paton’s dark eyes glinted. ‘The Mirror of Amoret.’

‘But who is this mysterious swordsman?’ begged Emma.

‘Ashkelan Kapaldi,’ Paton told her. ‘A swordsman of renown, and a magician of sorts. Though, as far as I can tell, it was only his sword that he could bend to his will, and set to killing, all on its own. He was active during the English civil war. How do I know this?’ He waved a hand at a bookcase in the corner. It contained ancient, dusty books bound in peeling leather, their yellowed leaves covered in mysterious, faded writing. Tancred had taken a look at one of them, and understood hardly a word.

‘He seemed to recognise me,’ Tancred said thoughtfully, ‘that swordsman. I felt that he knew I was endowed.’

‘It’s something we have in common,’ Paton remarked. ‘I can often recognise one of the Red King’s descendants. Most of us have a way of knowing each other. Isn’t it the same for you, Tancred?’

Tancred wasn’t sure. He certainly wouldn’t have known that pretty Miss Chrystal, the former music teacher, was, in fact, a witch of the very darkest nature. He slowly shook his head. ‘I didn’t know Mrs Tilpin.’

‘No,’ Paton agreed. ‘She was a tricky one.’

Emma slipped off the sofa and knelt in front of the fire again, flicking out strands of her damp hair. ‘Why has it all got so ominous?’ She looked at Paton, as though he must hold the answer.

Paton was in no hurry to reply. He sipped his tea and then stared into his mug, apparently having forgotten Emma’s question. He hadn’t forgotten, however. ‘Convergence,’ he said at last. ‘Two things have occurred in these last few months. Charlie’s father has reappeared and Titania Tilpin has become the witch she was destined to be. I believe she is the conduit – the channel, if you like – between the present and the distant past; the world of her ancestor, Count Harken of Badlock. And it is Titania who is drawing Harken’s minions back into our city. Some of them are present-day villains, descendants of Harken, others are, for now, mere shadows; whispers, rustlings, echoes. But if Titania and Harken have their way, these shadowy phantoms will soon take on form and substance and then our lives, if we manage to hold on to them, will be changed forever.’

Paton’s dreadful prophecy shocked everyone into a long silence. Eventually Emma, scrambling on to the sofa again, said shakily, ‘Billy Raven is there, in Harken’s world, so Charlie says.’

‘I’m sure it’s true,’ Paton said. ‘And I’m equally sure that Charlie will try to rescue him.’

‘And what about Charlie’s father?’ asked Tancred.

‘Ah, Lyell.’ Paton’s frown lifted and he actually managed to smile. ‘My recent travels have borne fruit. It’s quite incredible what you can turn up these days.’

Tancred and Emma stared at Paton, uncomprehending.

On the other side of the fireplace, Miss Ingledew pulled herself from the depths of a battered armchair, and gave a light, ringing laugh. ‘Paton,’ she cried, ‘they haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.’

Paton cleared his throat. ‘I’ll explain,’ he said. And he told them of his search for a certain pearl-inlaid box that Billy Raven’s father, Rufus, had entrusted to Lyell Bone. Soon after this, Rufus and his wife were both dead, victims of a supposed traffic accident, and Lyell began ten long years of spellbound forgetfulness, a trance-like state brought about by Manfred Bloor’s dreadful hypnotic power.

Paton’s deep voice shook with emotion when he spoke of Lyell and Rufus, but his tone became firmer when he described his growing suspicion that Billy Raven was closely connected to these vile crimes. Why, for instance, did Ezekiel Bloor keep the orphan Billy almost a prisoner in the school? And then allow him to be dragged into the past by the enchanter of Badlock?

‘I don’t have an answer either,’ said Paton, looking at the bemused expressions around him.

‘So how d’you know about the box?’ Tancred ventured.

‘Ah, the box. I was coming to that.’ Paton stood up and began to pace the room. ‘My suspicions led me to search for any of Billy’s remaining relatives. I discovered the aunt who cared for him after his parents’ deaths, but she would tell me nothing. It was only by chance that she mentioned a certain Timothy Raven, Billy’s great-uncle. I could see that she instantly regretted it, and she wouldn’t tell me where he lived. I had to discover that for myself. I now know that she was on Ezekiel’s payroll. She didn’t even tell me that her own mother was still alive. It was Timothy who told me that. I found him in Aberdeen. He was ailing when I met him and has since died, but he was able to give me an old address of Billy’s great-grandmother. And I found her.’

Paton’s audience waited breathlessly for his next revelation. He smiled at them with satisfaction and announced, ‘Her name is Sally Raven and she lives in a care home on the north-east coast. It seems she had become estranged from her daughter and knew nothing of Billy’s fate after his parents had died. But she told me about the box, Maybelle’s box she called it, with its beautiful pattern of inlaid mother-of-pearl. It was given to her by her husband’s aunt Evangeline, and Sally gave it to her grandson, Rufus, on his wedding day.’

Emma uttered a quiet, ‘Ah!’ She had been thinking of weddings lately. She looked at her aunt, who smiled.

‘The key was lost,’ Paton continued, rather hurriedly. ‘And there was no way of opening the box. It was just a very beautiful object, Sally said. But in her heart she knew it contained something special because there were others, on the Bloor side of the family, who desperately wanted it.’

‘The Bloors?’ said Tancred and Emma.

‘Just so,’ replied Paton. He turned to Miss Ingledew. ‘Shall we show them?’

‘I think we had better.’ Miss Ingledew went to her desk and unlocked a small drawer at the top. She withdrew a folded piece of paper and carried it over to Tancred. ‘Open it out,’ she said. ‘I call it the Raven Tree.’

Tancred unfolded the paper on his knees, where Emma could see it.

‘A family tree!’ Emma exclaimed.

‘Sally Raven is an extraordinary woman,’ Paton told them. ‘She has a case full of photos, letters and cards from her family and her husband’s. She was able to help me draw up a family tree that goes right back to Septimus Bloor, old Ezekiel’s great-grandfather.’