endowments.
The endowed are all descended from the ten children of the Red King; a magician-king who left Africa in the twelfth century, accompanied by three leopards.
Prologue
When the Red King left Africa, he took with him a rare snake, a boa, given to him by a travelling wise man. The boa’s skin was black and silver and its eyes like beads of jet. Sometimes, the shining eyes would close, but this was a deception. In the king’s presence the boa was eternally vigilant. No thief or assassin dared to pass it. The king, who could speak its language, regarded the boa as a friend, a guardian and a wise counsellor. He loved the creature dearly.
One day, while the king was absent on a hunting trip, his eldest son, Borlath, caught the boa in a net. Borlath had the cruellest heart of any man living, and his greatest sport was to torture. Within a week he had turned the wise and gentle boa into a creature that lived only to kill. It would squeeze its victims into oblivion within minutes.
The king’s daughter, Guanhamara, horrified by the boa’s new and deadly nature, rescued the creature and cast a spell, hoping to cure it. Alas, Guanhamara’s spell came too late and merely weakened the boa’s fatal hug. Its victims did not die, but they became invisible.
When Guanhamara died, the boa fell into a deep sleep. It shrivelled into a thing that was neither alive nor dead. Hoping one day to reawaken the creature, Guanhamara’s seven daughters (every one of them a witch) sealed the boa in a jar of liquid made blue with herbs. They also put in a bird with delicate, shiny wings. But the embalmed creatures were stolen by Borlath and passed down through his descendants, until Ezekiel Bloor, using a method recommended by his grandfather, managed to revive the boa whose skin had become a silvery blue. He was less successful with the bird.
Ezekiel was now a hundred years old. He had always longed to become invisible but, as far as he knew, the boa’s hug was permanent, and he didn’t dare to let the creature hug him. The old man still searched for a way to reverse invisibility, while the boa lived in the shadowy attics of Bloor’s Academy, keeping its secret, until someone could bring it the comfort of understanding – and listen to its story.
Someone dangerous
An owl swooped over the roof of number nine Filbert Street. It hovered above a running mouse and then perched on a branch beside Charlie Bone’s window. The owl hooted, but Charlie slept on.
Across the road, at number twelve, Benjamin Brown was already awake. He opened his curtains to look at the owl and saw three figures emerge from the door of number nine. In the pale street light their faces were a blur of shadows, but Benjamin would have known them anywhere. They were Charlie Bone’s great-aunts, Lucretia, Eustacia and Venetia Yewbeam. As the three women tiptoed furtively down the steps, one of them suddenly looked up at Benjamin. He shrank behind the curtain and watched them hurry away up the road. They wore black hooded coats and their heads tilted towards each other like conspirators.
It was half past four in the morning. Why were the Yewbeam sisters out so early? Had they been in Charlie’s house all night? They’ve been hatching some nasty plot, thought Benjamin.
If only Charlie hadn’t inherited such a strange talent. And if only his great-aunts hadn’t got to know about it, perhaps he’d have been safe. But when your ancestor is a magician and a king, your relations are bound to expect something of you. ‘Poor Charlie,’ Benjamin murmured.
Benjamin’s big yellow dog, Runner Bean, whined sympathetically from the bed. Benjamin wondered if he’d guessed what was going to happen to him. Probably. Mr and Mrs Brown had spent the last two days cleaning the house and packing. Dogs always know something is up when people start packing.
‘Breakfast, Benjamin!’ Mrs Brown called from the kitchen.
Mr Brown could be heard singing in the shower.
Benjamin and Runner Bean went downstairs. Three bowls of porridge sat on the kitchen table. Benjamin tucked in. His mother was frying sausages and tomatoes and he was glad to see that she hadn’t forgotten his dog. Runner Bean’s bowl was already full of chopped sausage.
Mr Brown arrived still singing and still in his dressing- gown. Mrs Brown was already dressed. She wore a neat grey suit and her straight straw-coloured hair was cut very short. She wore no jewellery.
Benjamin’s parents were private detectives and they tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Sometimes, they wore a false moustache or a wig to disguise themselves. It was usually only Mr Brown who wore the false moustaches, but on one occasion (an occasion Benjamin would like to forget), Mrs Brown had also found it necessary to wear one.
Benjamin’s mother swapped his now empty bowl for a full plate and said, ‘You’d better take Runner across to Charlie as soon as you’ve cleaned your teeth. We’ll be off in half an hour.’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Benjamin scoffed down the rest of his breakfast and ran back upstairs. He didn’t tell his mother that Charlie hadn’t actually agreed to look after Runner Bean.
The Browns’ bathroom overlooked Filbert Street and while Benjamin was brushing his teeth, he saw a tall man in a long black coat walk down the steps of number nine. Benjamin stopped brushing and stared. What on earth was going on in Charlie’s house?
The tall man was Paton Yewbeam, Charlie’s great-uncle. He was wearing dark glasses and carried a white stick. Benjamin assumed the dark glasses had something to do with Paton’s unfortunate talent for exploding lights. Paton never appeared in daylight, if he could help it, but this was an extraordinary time to be going out, even for him. He walked up to a midnight blue car, opened the boot and carefully placed the wand (for that’s what it was) right at the back.
Before Benjamin had even rinsed his toothbrush, Charlie’s uncle had driven off. He went in the opposite direction to his sisters, Benjamin noted. This wasn’t surprising as Paton and his sisters were sworn enemies.
‘You’d better go over to Charlie’s,’ Mrs Brown called from the kitchen. Benjamin packed his pyjamas and toothbrush and went downstairs.
Runner Bean’s tail hung dejectedly. His ears were down and his eyes rolled piteously. Benjamin felt guilty. ‘Come on, Runner.’ He spoke with an exaggerated cheerfulness that didn’t fool his dog for one minute.
The boy and the dog left the house together. They were best friends and Runner Bean wouldn’t have dreamt of disobeying Benjamin, but today he dragged his paws very reluctantly up the steps of number nine.
Benjamin rang the bell and Runner Bean howled. It was the howl that woke Charlie. Everyone else in the house woke briefly, thought they’d had a nightmare and went back to sleep.
Charlie, recognising the howl, staggered downstairs to open the door. ‘What’s happened?’ he asked, blinking at the street lights. ‘It’s still night, isn’t it?’
‘Sort of,’ said Benjamin. ‘I’ve got some amazing news. I’m going to Hong Kong.’
Charlie rubbed his eyes. ‘What, now?’
‘Yes.’
Charlie stared at his friend in bewilderment and then invited him in for a piece of toast. While the toast was browning, Charlie asked Benjamin if Runner Bean would be travelling to Hong Kong with him.
‘Er – no,’ said Benjamin. ‘He’d have to be quarantined and he’d hate that.’
‘So where’s he going?’ Charlie glanced at Runner Bean and the big dog gave him a forlorn sort of smile.
‘That’s just it,’ Benjamin said, with a slight cough. ‘There’s no one else but you, Charlie.’
‘Me? I can’t keep a dog here,’ said Charlie. ‘Grandma Bone would kill it.’
‘Don’t