Free Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock (Children of the Red King, Book 7) by Jenny Nimmo Page A

very well," said Mrs. Brown. "You've got Benjamin's dog in here, and we want him back."
    "He's not exactly in... ," Charlie tried to tell her.
    Apparently, Mrs. Brown would rather Charlie didn't exist. "Be quiet," she said. "I'm talking to your uncle. Where is Runner Bean? I want to see him."
    "If you insist." Uncle Paton went back to his room and reappeared with a candle. "Kindly refrain from switching on the lights," he said as he descended the staircase.
    "I wouldn't dream of it," said Mrs. Brown.
    Uncle Paton led her down into the cellar, while Charlie followed a few steps behind. When Mrs. Brown saw Runner Bean's painted image, howling silently out of the nightmarish landscape, she gave a shriek and clasped her face in her hands.
    "What happened?" she gasped.
    "Benjamin was incoherent. I couldn't make sense of what he told me."
    Charlie began to explain, and this time Mrs. Brown allowed him to tell the whole story, or at least Runner Bean's part in it. Charlie omitted most of the details about Badlock and didn't disclose that the man who rescued him was a giant.
    "What are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Brown at last. "How are you going to get our dog out of there?"
    "I was hoping you'd help, Patricia," Uncle Paton said wryly. "You being a detective."
    "Don't be flippant, Paton," she snapped. "I can't deal with... with all this magic stuff. Oh, sometimes I wish Benjamin and Charlie had never become friends. I shouldn't have let it go on, once I knew that Charlie was... different."
    Paton glared at her. "You let their friendship continue because Maisie looks after your son while you're gallivanting around the country disguised as Sherlock Holmes." He walked away from the painting and began to climb the steps. "Come on, Charlie."
    Charlie dumbly followed.
    "I'm sorry," called Mrs. Brown, scrambling after them. "I shouldn't have said those things. I'm just so worried about Ben."
    Maisie popped out of the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee, Irish?" she asked gently.
    Mrs. Brown glanced at Paton's stern face. "I... well, yes. That would be nice. If we could discuss things a little more calmly ..."
    Maisie had already lit several candles, and the kitchen counters twinkled with a friendly light. A plate of chocolate cookies sat invitingly on the table, and Uncle Paton was persuaded to join Mrs. Brown and Maisie. "Though I prefer cocoa to coffee," he said.
    "Me too," Charlie agreed.
    The tense atmosphere improved a little, but Mrs. Brown could not seem to rid herself of the worried frown that creased her forehead. "I should be used to it," she said. "I know this city is different from others. I know our houses are built on ancient battlefields, and in places where magic spills out when it's dark. I know things happen that no one can explain, mysteries the police don't even try to solve, evils they dare not acknowledge. And it's daunting sometimes for normal people like Mr. Brown and me - and Benjamin. But something keeps us in this city. I suppose it's because, in spite of everything, we feel there is a great goodness here."
    "The Red King," Charlie said quickly. He felt their eyes on him, and self-consciously, he added, "He's still here."
    "His spirit, you mean, Charlie," said Uncle Paton.
    Charlie shook his head. "No, more than that. I've seen him. I told you, Uncle P. - a knight with red feathers on a silver helmet, who wears a red cloak and rides a white horse. He saved me. Twice."
    For a while no one spoke. Even Uncle Paton couldn't find words to explain the Red Knight, but at last he said, "It might not be the king, Charlie."
    "Then who?" asked Maisie. "Who would dress up like that and ride around at night on a white horse?"
    Paton shrugged. "That, I do not know."
    Mrs. Brown got up and put on her tweed cap. "I came here about Runner. And now I'm more confused than ever."
    "Charlie thinks that Billy Raven might be able to help," said Maisie.
    "Billy Raven?" Mrs. Brown said crossly. "How can he...oh, of course, he