Read Charlie Bone And The Red Knight (Children Of The Red King, Book 8) for Free Online Page B

Bone got out of the car and climbed the steps to the door.
    "I'll wager she's up to her neck in all this skulduggery," Paton said to himself.

4
    GABRIELS SECRET

    Gabriel Silk had a secret. He wanted to tell Charlie about it, but there was never an opportunity. They were in different dormitories now, and different classes. The cafeteria was too public, and out in the grounds they were never alone. There might, however, be a chance when Charlie was on his way to a music lesson.
    Gabriel had been waiting in the corridor of portraits, hoping to catch Charlie as he crossed the hall. He had intended to stand just inside the hallway but found himself wandering farther down, studying the portraits on the wall. He passed them every day but had never really studied them. The subjects were mostly stern-looking men and women, though occasionally you could find a smiling person. If you knew your history well enough, you could tell by their clothes what century they had lived in. Gabriel had been told that every one of them was descended from the Red King. There was even a Silvio Silk in a black velvet suit and a white curled wig. He might have been Gabriel's ancestor, but he bore no resemblance to him.
    If Gabriel wore someone else's clothes, he immediately knew what sort of person had worn them before. He could sometimes picture them, see what they had done, and even hear their voices. But portraits could tell him nothing. "If I was Charlie, I could go right in and talk to you," Gabriel whispered to Silvio Silk. "And you could talk to me."
    Silvio Silk didn't bat an eyelid. He wore the same resigned expression that he had worn when the artist painted him, two hundred years before.
    Gabriel wandered farther down the hallway. He passed men in sober black suits, in rich red jackets and glittering gold waistcoats; he passed women whose necks were hung with diamonds and pearls, whose hair was garlanded with flowers, and whose shoulders were draped in velvet and fur. And then he stopped before a full-length portrait of a cavalier. Gabriel's eye was drawn to the sword at the man's side. It had a delicately wrought golden hilt, and the man's gloved fingers rested on it almost lovingly. As Gabriel stared at the intricate gold curves, they glinted suddenly, as though the sun had caught them. And then Gabriel found his gaze lifting to the face above the wide lace collar. The man had shoulder-length black hair, and between the black mustache and pointed beard, his fleshy lips held an unpleasant grin.
    Gabriel stepped back to get a better view, and now he noticed that the eyes seemed wrong. There was no light in them. It was as if the man's spirit had left the painted face.
    A cold shudder ran down Gabriel's spine. It was dark in the hallway. There were no lights, no sunlit window. Had he imagined the sudden bright glint on the gold sword hilt? Was the lack of light in the man's eyes or merely Gabriel's own shadow? No. There was something different about this painting. The name on the bronze plaque at the base of the frame read: Ashkelan Kapaldi. The plaque had come loose; it hung at an angle and there were fingerprints on the shiny surface of the paint. Someone had touched the portrait very recently, pressed and prodded it repeatedly.
    "Gabriel Silk, what are you doing?" Manfred's voice came ringing down the corridor of portraits.
    Gabriel turned guiltily, although, as far as he knew, he had nothing to feel guilty about. He must make sure that Manfred didn't guess what was on his mind. The talents master had been using hypnotism a great deal recently.
    "What are you doing here?" Manfred came up to Gabriel and stared at him.
    "Nothing, sir." Gabriel looked away from the narrow black eyes. Beneath his black cape, Manfred was wearing a bright green vest. Surprising for one who was usually so soberly dressed.
    "Nothing?" The talents master glared at Gabriel, forcing him to look up. "Nothing?"
    Gabriel felt dizzy. "Going to a music lesson, sir," he said