‘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