my names are as endless as the ocean.’ Dagbert didn’t flinch when his fingers were crushed in the skeletal hand. In fact, he hardly looked at Ezekiel. His gaze was drawn to a figure in the corner; hunched and dark, its face was averted from the visitors, though it gave the impression that it was listening intently to every word. Dagbert was so taken with this sinister form he forgot to restrain himself.
The flames in the grate flickered and died. A damp mist filled the room and the musty-coloured books that lined the walls were bathed in eerie sea-light.
‘What the dickens?’ uttered Ezekiel, drawing his blanket closer.
‘It’s what he does,’ Lord Grimwald said impassively. ‘Soon Dagbert will achieve his full power, and it will be greater than mine.’
‘Indeed?’ Dr Bloor regarded the boy. ‘An uncomfortable thought for you, Lord Grimwald.’
‘Not at all. Dagbert will not disobey. If he does, he will die. He knows this.’ Lord Grimwald spoke as if his son were not in the room. ‘I didn’t want a child,’ he went on, ‘but then this miracle happened,’ he indicated Dagbert, ‘and I found I couldn’t be parted from it. Our family is cursed, you see. Every time a boy has achieved full power, he has turned against his father and one of them has died. But we have made a pact, Dagbert and I, to work together always. Haven’t we, Dagbert?’
Dagbert gave his father a curt nod.
‘Now, Dagbert, control yourself !’
Dagbert smiled. The sea-light faded and the logs in the grate gave a damp hiss and burst into flame.
‘Interesting.’ Dr Bloor frowned at the boy. ‘As long as he uses his endowment in the right places.’
‘Keep an eye on him for me,’ said Lord Grimwald, ‘and I’ll do what you want.’
‘We’ll put him in Charlie Bone’s dorm,’ Ezekiel said gleefully.
‘Please, take a seat, both of you,’ said Dr Bloor. ‘Dagbert, fetch those chairs by the bookshelf.’
The boy pulled two chairs up to the desk while Dr Bloor continued, ‘Charlie Bone is getting too strong. He needs reining in.’
‘I can do that, sir.’ Dagbert took a seat beside his father.
For the first time since the visitors arrived, the figure in the shadows turned his face to the light. Lord Grimwald gave an involuntary gasp but his son stared at the ruined face of Manfred Bloor with a mixture of awe and fascination. Four great scars ran from the youth’s hairline to his chin. His eyelids were puckered with stitches and his top lip dragged upward in two places, giving the face a permanent grimace.
‘Terrible, isn’t it?’ Ezekiel looked round at his great-grandson. ‘But we’ll get even with them, Manfred.’
‘How did it happen?’ asked Lord Grimwald.
‘Cats,’ said Dr Bloor.
‘Cats?’ Lord Grimwald repeated in disbelief.
‘Leopards,’ came a husky croak from the corner.
‘They lacerated his throat,’ said Dr Bloor in an undertone. ‘Every word he utters causes him pain.’
‘Leopards.’ Dagbert’s eyes hadn’t left the ravaged face.
‘The Red King’s leopards,’ came the dreadful croak.
Dagbert turned to his father. ‘We’re descended from the Red King.’
His father nodded. ‘It’s why we’re here.’
‘So you know the story of the Red King?’ Ezekiel wheeled himself closer to Dagbert. ‘You know that when his wife died, the King went to grieve in the forest with only his leopards for company. But did you know that he turned those leopards into cats? Immortal cats, their coats as bright as flames, cats that turn up every generation to keep company with the children who refuse to be controlled.’ Ezekiel’s voice rose to a furious screech. ‘They did it. Those cats destroyed my grandson.’
‘Why?’ asked Dagbert, undaunted by the old man’s fury.
‘Charlie Bone,’ answered the rasping voice in the shadows.
‘Indeed, Charlie Bone,’ said Dr Bloor. ‘Granted he was trying to save his father, but to do this . . .’ The headmaster flung out his hand towards his son.
‘And have you found a way to punish Charlie Bone?’ asked Lord Grimwald.
‘We’re hoping that you can help us.’ Dr Bloor gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Charlie has friends, you see, friends with powerful endowments. They stick together like glue.’
‘Glue can be dissolved,’ said Dagbert quietly.
A surprised silence followed this remark. The Bloors regarded Dagbert with renewed interest. But the boy’s gaze was held by the scarred eyes that watched him from the shadows, and everyone in the room felt the invisible bond that was instantly formed between Dagbert Endless and Manfred Bloor.
Ezekiel smiled with satisfaction. Many endowed children had studied at Bloor’s Academy; some had been gratifyingly evil, but he was certain that none had been as deadly as this Northern boy with his iceberg eyes.
Lord Grimwald got to his feet and began to move about the room in his peculiar swaying walk. ‘So you will educate my son, and what am I to do for you?’
‘Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter,’ Ezekiel said eagerly. ‘You can control the oceans, Lord Grimwald. A towering talent, if I may say so.’
Lord Grimwald inclined his head as he continued to swing about the room.
Dr Bloor said, ‘Charlie’s father, Lyell Bone, is at this moment upon the ocean. He is taking a second honeymoon with his wife, Amy. And they have decided to go whale-watching.’
‘Whale-watching!’ Ezekiel cackled. ‘Silly fools. They’re going on a little boat, and the waves will rock the little boat from side to side, and then the highest, tallest, widest wave there’s ever been will take the little boat to the bottom of the ocean, where Lyell and Amy will rest forever. What d’you think about that, Lord Grimwald?’
‘I can do that for you.’ Lord Grimwald stopped pacing and sat down. ‘But may I ask, apart from punishing Charlie Bone, is there another reason why you want to drown Lyell Bone?’
‘The WILL!’ said Ezekiel and Dr Bloor in unison.
‘The will?’ asked Lord Grimwald.
‘It’s old, very old, but still legal probably,’ said Ezekiel. ‘It was made by my great-grandfather, Septimus Bloor, in 1865, shortly before he died. He left everything: house, garden, the ruined castle in the grounds, priceless treasures, all . . . all to his daughter Maybelle and her heirs. But my great-auntie, Beatrice, was a witch, you see, and hated Maybelle, so she poisoned her, and forged another will. This will, the false one, left everything to my grandfather, Bertram. And he
