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

meet. If Naren was descended from the Red King, then, in all probability, so was her father. Was he a sorcerer? A hypnotist? A were-beast?
    A fence came into view, and an open gate. Charlie's heart began to pound. Naren was standing just inside, but Runner Bean waited for Charlie and, together, they walked through the gate into a wide enclosure.
    At the far end stood a small cottage, with redbrick barns on either side. Smoke drifted from the cottage chimney and the slate roof was covered with birds. Animals of every description filled the enclosure. There were ponies cropping the sparse winter grass; dogs feeding from stone troughs; and cats sitting on the fence.
    A gray bird sailed out of a window, calling, "Dog ahoy!" Surely, it had to be Lysander's parrot, Homer.
    Charlie barely registered the existence of the other creatures. His attention was held by a figure standing in front of the cottage door. The man was of medium height with a brown, weathered face and a shock of white hair. In spite of the cold, he wore only a woolen shirt over his muddy jeans. His tanned skin emphasized the color of his vivid blue eyes, eyes that stared at Charlie with shock and recognition.
    And Charlie noted the large ax held across the man's chest. He looked all too ready to use it.

THE EXPLORER
    Dad, I've brought Charlie Bone," Naren said, a little anxiously.
    "So I see. Naren, I forbade you to enter the city." The man's voice was husky with suppressed anger and while he spoke to his daughter, he never took his eyes off Charlie. "I suppose you crossed the iron bridge?"
    "Sorry." Naren looked at her feet. "I couldn't help it."
    "Of course you could help it." Her father raised his voice. "Will you never learn? Will you never do the safe and sensible thing?"
    "But now you are glad, aren't you?" Naren smiled hopefully. "Glad that I brought Charlie."
    The man gave a grunt of exasperation and brought his ax crashing down onto a tree stump, already pitted with blade marks. Leaving the ax, he turned his back on the children and strode into the cottage.
    Unexpectedly, the door wasn't slammed. All the same Charlie didn't feel welcome.
    "My father will calm down," Naren said confidently. "His anger is like a flame that dies. Come into the warmth." She walked to the open door, motioning Charlie to follow.
    But Charlie stayed where he was. In spite of the cold, he was reluctant to leave the animals. He had begun to recognize some of them. Emma's duck was pecking at a trough of corn. Homer had settled on a fence post and there were two white rabbits cropping the grass in a far corner; they looked very much like Olivia's.
    "I think I'll just take Runner Bean and go home," Charlie told the girl. "My friends can come and fetch their pets now that I know where they are.
    "No," Naren said sharply. "No one must know about this place. My father's anger, then, would be terrible. Come." She motioned. You must talk with him."
    The white-haired man had seemed so grumpy, Charlie didn't feel he could possibly want to talk to him, but Naren beckoned so insistently, he found himself edging closer and closer.
    Runner Bean came as far as the door, but wouldn't follow Charlie when he went into the house. Naren took off her boots in a small flagstoned hall, and Charlie did the same. Then Naren opened a second door, and when Charlie stepped through it, he found himself in a warm, bright kitchen.
    A kettle boiled on an iron range, and burning logs blazed in the grate beneath it. An oil lamp sitting on a round table gave the room a smooth, mellow glow.
    Naren's father sat in a chair by the stove, while a gray-haired woman bent over him, talking urgently. She looked up when she heard the children enter and gave Charlie a smile that banished all his uncertainty. Like Naren, the woman appeared to be Asian.
    Charlie would have spoken to the woman but something happened that he was quite unprepared for. He became aware that pictures covered every spare surface of the walls. It was