Chapter 3: Without a Trace

Charlie slept his way through his recorder session. Mr. Paltry rebuked him over and over. "You are a bucket that cannot be filled, Charlie," he exclaimed in exasperation. "A bucket with a hole, stupid boy! Have you any talent? The only reason you're here is because…because…well, because you're one of those endowed children; I bet you think yourself pretty hot, eh?" Charlie stood silently against Mr. Paltry's unfaltering assault. "Well, do you?" repeated Mr. Paltry crossly.

"Yes, sir," Charlie obliged him meekly. The teacher gave an almost disappointed sort of grunt, as if he had held hope that Charlie might fight back, might resist.

"Well, uh," Mr. Paltry muttered. "I've wasted enough time here today. You may leave. I'm certainly going to." Grumbling indignantly to himself, Mr. Paltry straightened his coat and hat as he plodded out of the classroom.

Charlie made his way down the hall to the main room. All the students in music were to report there, after their more individual lesson. Charlie was among the first dozen in. A dozen more joined him, and then another. Fidelio and Billy entered together, nearly the last. Charlie frowned, thoughtfully. Gabriel was not among the final few to enter. Miss Chrystal was final person through the door. She closed it with great pompous, assuming her position at the head of the room.

"Hey," Charlie whispered. Fidelio and Billy glanced up in near perfect unison. "Have either of you seen Gabe?" Two heads shook regretfully. Charlie felt a twinge of panic. He raised his hand, tentatively.

"Yes, Charlie?" The features of Miss Chrystal's face hardened.

Charlie recoiled from an unseen blow. Ms. Chrystal was the last person he would have suspected of siding with the Bloors, yet her releasing the shadow was still fresh in his mind. And her stealing the Mirror of Amoret.

Still, he swallowed and pushed on. "Is everyone here, Ms. Chrystal?"

Ms. Chrystal's eyes seemed to be especially bright today. "Oh, yes, Charlie," she said, a hint of menace mingled in the sweetness of her voice, "everyone's here, that should be here."

Charlie's insides went cold. He sang even worse than he would normally, earning him the scorn of all teachers present. But in his panic he was oblivious to it. As soon as class ended, Charlie rushed to meet with Fidelio and Billy.

"Have any of you seen Gabriel, since this morning?" he demanded of them, frantically.

"No, sorry," Fidelio apologized, "And as a matter of fact, I haven't seen him all day."

Billy Raven nodded in meek agreement. "Sorry," he whispered, wringing his pale hands in front of him. "But," he added timidly, "why is this so important?"

Charlie shrugged. "There's another new piano teacher, remember?" he said. "And we don't know who he is, or where's he's from, or most importantly, whose side he's on."

Fidelio smiled, amused. "Charlie," he said, gently, "I think you might be overreacting. If you don't see him for the rest of the day, then maybe something's up, but for now, let it rest, man!" Charlie gave a resigned sigh and forced a smile. "Alright, Fido," he relented, "you've never been wrong before."

Still, as the rest of the day rolled by, Charlie grew increasingly uncomfortable. His discomfort swelled during lunch, when Gabriel, wherever he was, made no attempt to sit with him. Charlie forced the gnawing apprehension away and continued eating. The atmosphere was tense. Fidelio and Billy were both silent; Billy, out of timidity, and Fidelio, out of concern for Charlie. And Charlie-Charlie out of concern for Gabriel.

--

There was an empty spot in the king's room that night. It was most uncanny. Lysander, who had been appointed head of the room at one point, had been demoted earlier that day. Manfred had reassumed the role. Charlie couldn't help but feel extremely disappointed.

"Manfred, sir," he spoke up, rather boldly, "Where's Gabriel?" He met the head boy squarely, unwaveringly in the eye. The atmosphere tensed. Curious pairs of eyes witnessed Charlie's rebellious stand.

Manfred's eyes narrowed. "You mean you don't know, Bone?" he asked, smirking. A collective giggle rose from the table. Charlie gazed around. He noticed five pairs of eyes-six, including Manfred's-gazing at him through angry, glittering slits. They knew something. Charlie's breath stuck in his throat, which felt as dry and sticky as clay.

"Uh-uh…u-uh…" Charlie stuttered, struggling to swallow.

Manfred smiled, coolly. "Well, Charlie, you'll know soon enough, believe me." Turning from view, a cold smile tugged at his lips. "But you'll wish you didn't." A wave of dizziness washed over Charlie as those last, barely-audible words registered.

--

"Alright, what's going on?" demanded Tancred, grabbing Charlie as soon as they were dismissed.

Charlie quickly explained his concern over Gabriel's long absence. Four faces whitened in horror as he did.

Emma frowned. "I would say we're overreacting, but we all heard Manfred, didn't we?"

"What do you think happened?" Charlie asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Lysander glanced over his shoulder . "Well," he said, " for now, the most we can do is hope that Gabriel turns up tomorrow morning. We've got to get going if we want to make curfew."

Reluctantly, the group dispelled, each person endlessly worried. But Charlie was the most worried of all. It was appropriate- Gabriel had vanished without a trace.