Charlie Bone and the Wilderness Wolf

‘The snitcher.’

They had reached the hall and Charlie was so keen to hear the gruesome details of the drowning, he quite forgot the rules. ‘So what happened then?’

‘Silence in the hall, Charlie Bone,’ called one of the prefects, a cheerful girl who rarely gave detention.

‘This way,’ Charlie whispered, nudging Dagbert’s arm.

They walked to a door beneath a carving of crossed trumpets. Once through the door Charlie said, ‘I’m glad Fiona’s on duty and not Manfred Bloor.’

‘What’s wrong with Manfred?’ asked Dagbert.

Charlie didn’t like the look that Dagbert shot at him. ‘Never mind.’ Quickly changing the subject, Charlie explained that they were in the blue cloakroom. ‘Drama students wear purple capes, their cloakroom door is under two masks; crossed paintbrushes show where the Art students go. They wear green. We have our own canteens, too. But we all work together, except when we do music, art or drama.’

Children began to crowd round Dagbert. Where did he come from? Why was he here? Did he live in the city?

Charlie noticed Billy Raven sitting in a corner. As soon as he saw Dagbert he gave Charlie one of his worried looks and ran out. Dagbert glanced at the small albino before talking to the others. He told none of them what he had told Charlie. He would only say that he lived above a fish shop.

‘I like fish, you see.’ He gave Charlie a private smile.

‘He’s an odd fish,’ Fidelio whispered in Charlie’s ear.

Charlie grinned. Dagbert saw Fidelio’s head close to Charlie’s and the smile left his face. His eyes suddenly became so icy they sent a shiver down Charlie’s spine.

‘It’s English next,’ Charlie said. ‘We’d better get to Mr Carp’s room.’

‘You should enjoy that, eh, Dagbert?’ said Fidelio. ‘A carp is a very fine fish.’

Dagbert was not amused. ‘Show me the way,’ he commanded.

They left the blue cloakroom and made their way through groups of children in blue, green or purple capes, all heading in different directions.

Mr Carp was stout and red-faced. He was always dressed very neatly in a striped waistcoat and smart grey suit. He found Charlie Bone irritating, partly because of his messy hair, and partly because his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. He didn’t pay attention and sometimes gave silly answers that made the class laugh.

‘You boy, sit there,’ he told Dagbert. ‘That’s right, next to Charlie Bone. He is to be your monitor, I’m told. Though he needs one himself, if you ask me.’ Mr Carp laughed at his own joke while the rest of the class remained silent.

Dagbert took the desk next to Charlie. On the other side of Charlie, Fidelio raised an eyebrow. With a scraping of chairs the class sat down and a lesson on punctuation began.

For the rest of the day Dagbert stuck to Charlie like a limpet. It wasn’t Dagbert’s fault, Charlie reasoned, but he was beginning to affect Charlie’s social life badly. His friends Emma and Olivia approached during break but things took a bad turn when Olivia suggested that Dagbert smelt fishy. Charlie had assumed that the smell was wafting up from the kitchens but now he realised that Olivia was right.

Dagbert’s response caught Charlie off guard. ‘We think you stink of cheap perfume, don’t we, Charlie?’ He winked at Charlie, who opened his mouth to protest, when Dagbert continued, ‘and we think you both look a mess. Those ridiculous hairdos for one thing.’

‘I . . . didn’t . . .’ Charlie stuttered.

Emma stared at him in dismay, while Olivia said, ‘I see. Well, we know where we stand, don’t we?’ She grabbed Emma’s arm and dragged her away. They’d only gone a few steps when Olivia turned back and called, ‘I always knew you were a fraud, Charlie Bone. A fraud and a liar.’

Charlie would have run after the girls, but Olivia’s hurtful words stopped him in his tracks. Had she always thought him a fraud? He watched the two girls walk across the grounds. In her red coat and black tights, Olivia looked anything but a mess. Her brown hair was streaked with black and gold and topped with a small black velvet beret. Charlie had been about to compliment her when Dagbert made his fatal remark. Even Emma looked elegant today, with her blonde hair piled on top of her head.

‘Let them go,’ said Dagbert. ‘We know their sort. Airheads.’

‘Don’t keep saying “we”,’ Charlie said irritably. ‘We don’t have the same opinions at all. And those girls aren’t airheads.’

Dagbert ignored this. ‘You promised to show me the red castle. I can see the walls from here. Come on.’

At the far end of the grounds, the deep red walls of a castle could be glimpsed between the trees. Now a ruin, it was difficult to believe that the Red King had once held court there. At times, Charlie had found the ruin a refuge, but always there was a feeling of unease behind the great walls, a hint of the castle’s troubled past, when the king’s family had turned against each other.

‘You go ahead,’ Charlie told Dagbert. ‘I want to talk to someone.’ He had seen his friend Gabriel Silk wandering towards them.

As Gabriel got closer, Dagbert said loudly. ‘You’re right, Charlie. What a loser.’

It was unfortunate that Gabriel happened to be passing Bragger Braine, the worst bully in the second year. Bragger, and the group of boys surrounding him, took one look at Gabriel’s long, sad face and burst into malicious laughter.

‘Gabe!’ Charlie shouted.

But Gabriel had fled. Charlie scanned the grounds and eventually saw Gabriel running for the garden door.

‘Dagbert, why did you say that?’ Charlie demanded angrily. ‘Gabriel’s very sensitive. I don’t know how I’m going to explain things to him.’

‘I wouldn’t bother,’ Dagbert said casually. ‘Who wants a friend like that? He can’t even wear old clothes.’

‘He can’t help it. He gets all the feelings of the people who’ve worn the clothes before him.’ Charlie stamped his foot. ‘And if you want to see the ruin, go by yourself.’

Furious, Charlie stormed away from Dagbert and made for the school. The smell of fish suddenly became so overpowering he almost retched. It was a relief to get inside the hall and close the door against the choking odour. Charlie ran along to the blue cloakroom where Gabriel often took refuge when things weren’t going well. But instead of Gabriel, he found Billy Raven, huddled at the end of a bench.

‘Billy, have you seen Gabriel?’ Charlie asked.

Billy shook his head. He looked very troubled.

‘What is it?’ Charlie sat beside the smaller boy.

‘You need to know some things,’ said Billy, ‘about that boy, Dagbert. Blessed told me –’

‘There you are!’ Dagbert stood in the doorway, his face blank and the fish smell under control. It seemed to be something he could send out or stop at will. ‘You’ve got some freaky friends, Charlie Bone.’

‘Look,’ said Charlie, trying hard to keep his temper. ‘I don’t mind being your monitor but leave my friends alone or –’

‘Or what?’ Dagbert’s expression hardened.

Charlie couldn’t think of a reply.

‘Or nothing,’ Dagbert answered for him. ‘You’re powerless, Charlie Bone. So you might as well make the best of things.’

Charlie was thinking, He’s seen off three of my friends. But there’s always Tancred and Lysander. He stared at Dagbert, but whatever the fish boy was, he didn’t appear to be a mind-reader.

After supper, while the other children went to their classrooms, Charlie led Dagbert up to the King’s Room.

‘What is the King’s Room?’ asked Dagbert as they climbed the narrow staircase at the far end of the building.

‘It’s where the Red King’s portrait hangs. All endowed children have to do their homework there. Because we’re the Red King’s descendants.’

‘So now I’ll get to meet the rest of you.’ Dagbert leapt ahead of Charlie. By the time Charlie reached the tall black doors of the King’s Room, Dagbert was already inside. Charlie found him gazing at the shelves of books that lined the curving walls.

‘A round room,’ Dagbert observed with satisfaction, ‘and a round table. How Arthurian.’

Four children came in: Joshua Tilpin, Dorcas Loom and the twins, Inez and Idith.

‘Now let me see,’ Dagbert stared at Joshua. ‘Magnetism?’

Joshua beamed.

‘Good, good.’ Dagbert turned to Dorcas, who was setting her books in order on the table. ‘And you can bewitch clothing?’

‘How can you tell?’ asked Dorcas, a large girl with a puffy face and tangled yellow hair.

‘I can’t,’ Dagbert admitted. ‘Someone told me.’

‘And we are telekinetic,’ one of the twins announced. No one could tell them apart. They both had pale, doll-like faces and shiny black hair. Their fringes ended in a sharp line just above their eyes – dark eyes that never showed a trace of emotion. ‘Who are you?’ the same twin asked.

‘I am a boy whose name is as endless as the ocean.’ Dagbert smiled at them. ‘My name is Dagbert.’

The twins gaped at him. Neither of them asked any more questions.

Charlie felt uncomfortable, alone in the room with four children who had made no secret of being his enemies, and a fifth who certainly couldn’t be described as a friend. He heaved a sigh of relief when Tancred and Lysander appeared.

Tancred was in a particularly boisterous mood; his green cape billowed round him like a cloud, his blond hair stood up in spikes and books kept fluttering out of his hands. As he placed his homework on the table a gust of wind whistled round the room, carrying loose paper into the air and rolling pens and pencils across the round table.

‘For goodness’ sake, can’t you learn to control yourself, Tancred Torsson?’ Dorcas grumbled as she bent to retrieve a book.

Before Tancred could reply, Dagbert cried, ‘A storm boy! Good to meet you. I’m Dagbert Endless.’ He walked over to the two older boys and shook their hands. ‘And you must be Lysander Sage, the spirit-caller.’

Lysander, the African, gave Dagbert a cool smile.

Dagbert ignored the last three children to arrive. Avoiding Charlie, Emma took a seat close to Tancred, and Gabriel sat on his other side. Only Billy chose to sit beside Charlie. For this he received one of the new boy’s chilly stares.

There should have been a twelfth member of the group, but Asa Pike had not been seen for several weeks. Charlie found that he missed the weedy sixth-former with his wispy red hair and the wolfish yellow eyes that gave away his terrible endowment.

Lysander was now the oldest member of the endowed, and so he had been put in charge of the homework room. He had inherited a natural air of authority from his father, the famous Judge Sage. Joshua, Dorcas and the twins might try to test Lysander’s position, but they were a little in awe of the tall African and, so far, no one had openly defied him.

‘Where’s our number twelve?’ asked Dagbert. ‘I was told there was a wolf boy.’

‘Was,’ said Lysander quietly. ‘He’s no longer with us. Get on with your work, now.’

Dagbert meekly opened one of his books and began to read.

Charlie couldn’t concentrate. He gazed up at the Red King’s portrait and then at the clock on the wall. When Manfred had presided over the King’s Room he would command Charlie to look away from the painting and concentrate on his homework. Charlie had always longed to travel into the painting to talk to the king, but it was impossible. Behind the king stood Harken the Enchanter, a shadowy figure who blocked Charlie’s every attempt to reach his ancestor.

Once the shadow had escaped, but now he was trapped again – an angry, brooding presence whom Charlie could almost feel watching him. But I don’t need to reach the king any more, he told the shadow silently, because I’ve found my father and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Someone else was watching Charlie. Dagbert’s aquamarine eyes were fixed on him. Charlie quickly dropped his gaze and tried to concentrate on his homework.

At eight o’clock everyone closed their books and began to file out of the King’s Room.

Before Dagbert could catch up with them, Charlie whispered to Billy, ‘Want to come home with me at the weekend?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Billy. ‘I’ve got so much to –’

‘Hey! Wait for me!’ Dagbert’s voice came ringing after them. ‘You’re supposed to show me the dorms, Charlie Bone.’

‘I thought Matron would have shown you,’ said Charlie.

‘She did, but I’ve forgotten.’ Dagbert grinned and came up to Charlie in his peculiar lurching and pitching motion.

Billy Raven crept away.

‘That boy gives me the creeps,’ Dagbert remarked as he watched the retreating albino.

‘You probably do the same to him,’ said Charlie.

‘Why?’ Dagbert looked genuinely surprised.

Charlie hurried on without answering. He wondered where Dagbert would be sleeping. Every bed in his own dormitory was occupied. So there was no danger of the new boy moving in. Or was there? Ahead of him, he could see Gabriel Silk standing in the passage. He looked distraught. Charlie called out to him, but he turned away and went through a door further down the passage.

‘What’s going on?’ Charlie walked into his dormitory, Dagbert dogging his steps.

Fidelio was sitting on the bed next to Charlie’s. ‘They’ve moved Gabriel,’ he said. ‘Poor old Gabe. It’s not fair. They’ve put him in with Damian Smerk.’

Charlie gasped. ‘His worst enemy!’

Dagbert made his way over to the bed that had once been Gabriel’s.

‘Now we know the reason for Gabriel’s banishment,’ Fidelio muttered, turning his head in Dagbert’s direction.

Charlie lowered his voice. ‘I’m supposed to be looking after him. I guess that’s why Matron put him in here.’

Other boys began to arrive: three first-formers and five second-formers led by Bragger Braine and his devoted slave Rupe Small. Dagbert ignored them. This was surprising, considering that he had gone out of his way to make friends with most of the endowed. Perhaps he considered these ordinary boys not worth the effort, thought Charlie.

Bragger Braine stopped at the end of Dagbert’s bed and commanded the new boy to introduce himself. Dagbert continued to transfer clothes from his bag into the cabinet beside his bed.

‘I’m talking to you, boy,’ Bragger shouted, his wide pug-like face reddening.

‘Answer!’ squeaked Rupe Small.

‘Answer, answer, answer!’ chimed the others.

Charlie suddenly realised he would have to defend the new boy. ‘Leave him alone,’ he said.

‘Who asked you, Charlie Bone?’ snarled the beefy third-former.

‘I’m responsible for him,’ Charlie said in a reasonable tone. ‘His name is Dagbert Endless.’

‘I suppose he’s one of you peculiar “endowed” people,’ Rupe piped up with a giggle.

Charlie found Rupe even more annoying than Bragger. He had such a whiney, high-pitched voice. He followed Bragger’s every move with his big doggy eyes, and never said a word unless he was quite sure that Bragger would approve.

‘They’re not peculiar,’ Fidelio said evenly.

‘OK. So what do you do, new boy?’ Bragger climbed on to the rail at the foot of Dagbert’s bed. ‘Forgive me for saying so, but Endless isn’t a name.’

All at once Dagbert straightened up. He fixed Bragger with his aquamarine eyes and said, ‘My name is as endless as the ocean, and I drown people.’

Bragger’s feet slipped off the rail and he landed on his back on the floor.

Nobody laughed.

The howling

It was one of the other boys who passed on the news about Dagbert. It certainly wasn’t Bragger. Falling on your back in terror is nothing to brag about.

Word spread fast. Soon even the doziest first-former had heard the rumour: Dagbert Endless drowned people.

But how? That was the question on everyone’s mind. On bath night it was noticeable how shallow the bath water was in every bath. Some of the children decided against bathing altogether and opted for a cold shower in the unheated changing rooms. In February. That’s how worried they were.

‘What’s the matter with you all?’ grumbled the matron. ‘You usually complain that you can’t get enough water. Now, all at once, you don’t want any. You’ve barely got enough to clean your knees.’

People began to avoid Charlie because Dagbert was always at his side. In team games Charlie was always the last to be picked, as though the new boy were permanently attached to him, and if you got Charlie, you were saddled with Dagbert-the-Drowner as well.

There were exceptions, of course. You couldn’t keep Joshua, Dorcas and the twins away from Dagbert. So Charlie had to put up with their company as well. He found it exhausting, listening to them boasting about their peculiar talents. However, he did manage to learn something very interesting.

They were sitting in the King’s Room, waiting for homework to begin. Lysander and Tancred hadn’t arrived, Billy was searching for a reference book, Emma was late and Gabriel was in the sanatorium with a virus.

Charlie had opened his history book and was pretending to make notes on the American War of Independence. The conversation on the other side of the table was being conducted in harsh whispers, with the occasional giggle thrown in by Dorcas. And then, all at once, Charlie caught the phrase: ‘She taught me everything I know about bewitching clothes.’

Dorcas was talking about Charlie’s Great Aunt Venetia. He lowered his head and opened his ears.

‘Anyway, she told me about this man,’ Dorcas went on. ‘She wanted to marry him because, for one thing, he’s rich, and for another his little boy is endowed – at least Venetia thinks he is . . .’ She stopped and Charlie felt her eyes on him. He kept his head down but Dorcas continued in such a soft whisper he could only catch the odd word. Words like ‘Arthur Shellhorn, poison, beads, heart-failure . . . herbs of infatuation . . . wedding . . .’

It was easy enough to guess the rest, and it didn’t take Charlie long to work out what his great-aunt had done. Uncle Paton had warned him that Venetia wasn’t above murder, and he was right. She had poisoned Arthur Shellhorn’s wife with a string of beads that stopped her heart, then soaked Arthur’s coat in a brew of infatuating herbs. And poor, deluded Arthur, desperately in love, had begged Venetia to marry him.

At this point Lysander and Tancred breezed in, the latter looking even more blown about than usual.

‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Lysander. ‘We were in a meeting. Glad to see you’re all getting on with your work. Where’s Billy?’

‘Here. I’m here.’ Billy shuffled through the door with Emma a few paces behind him.

Silence fell. Everyone bent their head towards their books. Homework began.

Charlie stared at the pages of his history book without seeing them. His mind roamed elsewhere. He was trying to imagine what it would be like to have a stepmother like Great Aunt Venetia: poisoner, bewitcher, murderer. He could hardly wait to see Uncle Paton. One more night to go, he thought, and then he’d be free of Dagbert Endless. He would be sitting at home, eating one of Maisie’s delicious suppers.

It was not to be.

On Thursday night, only five minutes after lights out, Dagbert decided to tell a bedtime story.

‘It’s against the rules to talk after lights out.’ Charlie’s whispered warning made no impression on Dagbert, so he raised his whisper another notch. ‘You’ll get detention.’

‘Who says?’ asked Dagbert.

‘Let him tell the story,’ said Bragger, keen to keep on the right side of Dagbert.

‘Yes, let him,’ squeaked Rupe. ‘You’re a spoilsport, Charlie Bone.’

Fidelio muttered, ‘You won’t be seeing your fish shop on Friday night, Bertie boy.’

‘Want to bet?’ sneered Dagbert. ‘And don’t call me Bertie.’

Fidelio turned over and punched his pillow into shape.

In a loud voice Dagbert continued his story. It was boring and badly told. It certainly wasn’t funny, even though Bragger and Rupe kept giggling. Stories about mermaids always made Charlie yawn. He yawned and closed his eyes.

Two seconds later the door opened and Matron marched into the room. She turned on the light. Charlie opened his eyes and blinked.

‘Who was talking?’ Matron demanded.

‘I was,’ Dagbert said cheerfully. ‘I was telling a story.’

‘You’re breaking the rules,’ said Matron.

‘Am I?’ Dagbert sounded incredulous. ‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.’

Matron gave a sigh of annoyance. ‘Charlie, you’re responsible for the new boy. You’re supposed to tell him the rules.’

‘Yes, well, I –’ Charlie began.

‘Detention for you,’ snapped his great-aunt. ‘You won’t be going home until Saturday.’

‘But I did tell him,’ Charlie protested.

Matron switched off the light and marched out, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was broken by a snort from Bragger and a snigger from Rupe.

Charlie lay on his back staring into the darkness. He told himself that he didn’t care. What was one more day after all? He lay awake long past midnight and then, just as he was drifting into sleep, a sound came stealing through the night. A far, far distant howl.

There was a rustle of bedclothes and Charlie saw the rounded shape of Billy Raven’s white head. He was sitting up – listening. He knows what the howl means, thought Charlie, and soon he’ll tell me.

The last thing Charlie expected was an apology, but at breakfast next morning, he got one.

‘Sorry about last night,’ said Dagbert, swallowing a spoonful of cornflakes. ‘I couldn’t afford to get detention. The people I live with won’t understand if I don’t turn up tonight.’

‘You didn’t have to talk after lights out, though, did you?’ said Fidelio. ‘Charlie warned you.’

Dagbert frowned. ‘It’s hard to keep stories to yourself,’ he murmured.

Charlie almost felt sorry for him. ‘Well, you won’t get away with it a second time. Matron’s told you now, so you’ll have to keep your stories bottled up.’

‘Yes, I will,’ Dagbert said pensively. ‘Imagine. Stories in a bottle.’

Not for the first time Charlie wondered what was going on in Dagbert’s head.

Charlie spent the rest of the day in a state of suspense. All he wanted was to hear what Billy had to tell him. What did it matter if he had to spend another night in school?

At four o’clock Weedon unlocked the main doors and children piled out of the Academy. From their dormitory, Charlie and Billy could hear the shouts that began immediately pupils were released from the gloomy hall. Charlie peered out of the window overlooking the courtyard. He saw Dagbert Endless following the crowd. He was the only one who didn’t look happy. His expression was solemn, almost apprehensive. He was the last to leave the courtyard.

Charlie turned from the window. ‘They’re all gone, Billy.’

Billy was sitting on his bed with his knees drawn up to his chin.

‘Before we talk about Dagbert I want to know what you heard last night,’ said Charlie.

‘A howl,’ Billy replied.

‘I heard it too. You know what it meant, don’t you?’

Billy nodded. He hunched his shoulders and hugged himself. ‘It was a call for help. It was frightened and lonely.’

Charlie looked into Billy’s wine-dark eyes, magnified by the round lenses of his glasses. ‘Do you know where the voice – the howl – came from?’

‘Not exactly. It’s far, far away, maybe underground. It says it’s trapped.’

‘Trapped?’ said Charlie. ‘Who trapped it, I wonder.’