Free Charlie Bone and the Hidden King (Children of the Red King, Book 5) by Jenny Nimmo

side."
    He looked across the chasm. At the top of the opposite cliff, a dense forest stretched as far as he could see. "You live over there?" he asked in disbelief.
    "People can live in forests." Naren's smile widened.
    "Yes, but that one?" Charlie stared at the distant mass of trees. "I heard it was a wilderness."
    "Maybe it is." She tugged his arm and pointed downward. "There's the bridge. Come on."
    Charlie leaned over the railing and saw a thin strip of wrought iron suspended above the river. It looked old and dangerous. "That?" he squeaked.
    "There's a big bridge farther on," said Naren, "but it's full of noisy traffic. I like this one, and so do the animals."
    "Oh, the animals." Charlie remembered why he was standing above this turbulent river with a girl he'd only just met. He followed Naren's perilous route down the cliff face until they reached the iron bridge. Close up it looked even more treacherous. The rail dripped with icicles and the flooring was gray with frost.
    There was a sign hanging on a wire across the entrance to the bridge. It said, DANGER. UNSAFE BRIDGE.
    But Charlie wasn't going to be outdone by a small girl. The rusty iron rang with the sound of Naren's boots as she tripped across and Charlie, swallowing hard, clanged after her.
    They were halfway across when he thought of the promise he'd made on his twelfth birthday. He'd told his mother that he wouldn't make any more hasty decisions, that he'd stop to consider the consequences before he rushed into things. And yet, here he was, walking across an unsafe bridge above a river that could quite definitely drown him were he to fall into it.
    Naren looked back. "Why have you stopped?" she called.
    "I was just admiring the view," Charlie said airily.
    "Come on."
    At that instant one of the supports that held the metal rail fell out and clanged onto the rocks below. The whole bridge shuddered and a shower of icicles spun down into the void. Charlie froze.
    "It's OK." The girl smiled encouragingly. "We're not heavy, you and me. The bridge will hold us."
    Gritting his teeth, Charlie strode after her.
    When he got to the end of the bridge he hid his relief by swinging nonchalantly between the two final posts, and jumping onto a welcome strip of firm rock.
    Naren laughed. "Now, another climb," she said.
    The sky had become lighter and the climb to the top of the cliff didn't seem nearly so hazardous as the descent on the other side.
    At the top of the cliff they were surrounded by huge naked trees. A faint path led through the forest, and Charlie, stepping behind Naren, became aware that the place was full of sound. From the bare branches, clusters of chattering birds watched the children passing beneath; even the dead grass rustled with life. Rabbits hopped beside the path, a stag peeked from behind a tree, and then, gradually, the wild sounds were drowned by an incessant and excited barking.
    A few seconds later, Runner Bean burst through the undergrowth and leaped up at Charlie, yelping with joy.
    "Runner!" cried Charlie, hugging the big yellow dog.
    "He's yours?" asked Naren.
    "No. He belongs to my friend. But I feel kind of responsible for him, because Benjamin, my friend, has been away."
    "That dog was the first," said Naren. "Over the bridge he came, and the others followed: dogs, cats, ponies, goats, rabbits, everything. We heard them coming and ran to the cliff to look. It was quite a sight, all those animals under the moon, running across the bridge."
    "But why did they come here?"
    "Because it's safer. Can't you feel it? Over there, in the city, something evil has woken up. My father will explain."
    Before Charlie could ask any more questions, Naren turned quickly and began to bound along the path. Runner Bean leaped beside her, but Charlie followed at a slower pace. He gazed up at the canopy of branches above his head. Yes, it did feel safer here. There was a calmness, a wonderful sense of protection. He wondered what sort of man he was about to