Long, long ago a king arrived in the North. They called him the Red King because he wore a scarlet cloak and his shield was emblazoned with a burning sun. It was said that he came out of Africa. This king was also
a marvelous magician and each of his ten children inherited a small part of his power. But when the king's wife died, five of his children turned to wickedness and the other five, seeking to escape the corruption that surrounded their evil siblings, left their father's castle forever.
Brokenhearted, the Red King vanished into the forests that covered the kingdoms of the North. He did not go alone, however, for he was followed by his three faithful cats -leopards to be precise. We must never forget the cats!
the manifold and fabulous powers of the Red King were passed down through his descendants, often turning up quite unexpectedly in someone who had no idea where they came from. This is what happened to Charlie Bone and to some of the children he met behind the grim, gray walls of Bloor's Academy
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CHARLIE HEARS VOICES
On a Thursday afternoon, just after tea, Charlie Bone saw smoke. He happened to be looking out of his window when a dark cloud lifted above the autumn trees. The wind blew it south and it moved through the sky like a great, floating whale.
Somewhere, on the other side of the city there was a fire. Charlie could hear a fire engine racing toward it. He had no idea that in mysterious and unexpected ways he was connected to it and would soon be drawn to
the place where it had begun.
Charlie slept well, got up the next morning, and went to school. After school, Charlie and his friend, Benjamin Brown, walked home together, as usual. The cloud of smoke had gone, but the sky was stormy and dark. A fierce wind sent red and gold leaves racing down Filbert Street.
Benjamin crossed the road to number twelve, while Charlie stopped at number nine. Most of the people who lived at number nine complained about the large chestnut tree in front of it -how dark it made their rooms, how damp and creaky it was, and how it would probably fall on the roof one day and kill them all in their beds. Needless to say no one at number nine did anything about it. Complaining to one another was as far as they went. They were that sort of family Or, rather, those sorts of families.
As Charlie ran up the steps to his front door, the tree sighed and rained a handful of chestnuts on his head. Luckily his thick, wiry hair
softened the blows. Thick hair had its uses, though not many Charlie was always being told to smarten himself up, an impossible task for someone with hair like a hedge.
"Hello, grandmas!" Charlie called as he stepped into the hall.
There were two grandmas at number nine: Grandma Jones was Charlie's mother's mother, and Grandma Bone was Charlie's father's mother. Grandma
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Jones was round and cheerful and bossy while Grandma Bone spoke only to complain. She rarely smiled and nothing made her laugh. Her hair was thick and white, and she wore long, stiff dresses in shades of black, gray or brown (never pink, which was Maisie's favorite color). Grandma Jones liked to be called Maisie, but Charlie wouldn't have dared to call Grandma Bone by her first name, which was Grizelda. She liked to remind people that, before she had married Mr. Bone, she had been a Yewbeam.
The Yewbeams were an ancient family their history littered with artistic
people and others who had more unusual talents, such as hypnotism, mindreading, and be witchery
Charlie knew he had disappointed Grandma Bone by being ordinary Even worse, in her eyes, he was quite happy to be ordinary
When Charlie came home from school, it was always Maisie who gave him a wet kiss on his cheek and pushed something to eat under his nose. Today Maisie
