A/N: Here's the next chapter! It's about Lyell again, and is set at the end of Midnight for Charlie Bone. As always reviews would be very welcome. :)

The Play

On the last day of term, Bloor's Academy put on their annual winter play, a production of Snow White. The hypnotist visited him on the day of the performance, to make sure he stayed quiet. The play was of the utmost importance, the Head Boy said, and he wouldn't have him ruining it with his piano music. He could only nod and look suitably cowed, and pray that the young man didn't try to hypnotise him.

His prayer was answered. The hypnotist—Manfred—merely glared at him with those coal-black eyes and strode away, likely too preoccupied with the coming production to think of it now. But he knew that he would return eventually to do it. The only question was when.

In the evening the guests began arriving, including the boy and his mother and a plump, cheerful-looking older lady. The mother was smiling, but there was a shadow in her eyes that he couldn't help but notice. The boy clung to her hand, grinning with excitement, while the older woman looked fondly at them both. He turned away, trying to ignore the strange feelings that were welling up inside of him.

For the majority of that evening he sat on the piano stool and gazed out at the city, his fingers resting on the black and white keys but not letting them sound. From this vantage point, one could see most of the city, including the great cathedral from which the bells tolled every hour. Street-lamps lit up the pathways like stars come to earth, casting shadows across the miniscule-looking buildings. It almost looked like a patchwork blanket, or a toy-sized city he could never be a part of.

The guests left when the bells tolled ten. He saw the boy and his mother again, but didn't have the heart to try and recognise them. It would only end in failure anyway.

When the bells tolled eleven, he realised he was hungry and ate an oatcake from the tin of oatcakes he kept on the shelf that stood against the wall. It was hard as a rock by now, and rather tasteless, but he didn't notice any of that, still lost deep in his thoughts.

When the bells tolled twelve, he felt that feeling again, of something trying to rise to the surface and break free. This time he didn't try to remember. He just listened.