17 Where Has All the Magic Gone?
“Inglenook!” cried Bryony, bursting into the lounge. “What’s happened? Why won’t our wishes come true?”
“Yeah,” said Edwin, joining her in front of the fireplace. “Where has all the magic gone?”
Inglenook’s eyes flickered open. “The magic has gone nowhere, young Master. Nor will it ever. It will always be here, as long as this building remains.”
Edwin’s ginger eyebrows puckered. “So how come we can’t use it all of a sudden?”
“Because,” replied the smiling face, “you are not allowed to.”
Bryony wrinkled her nose. “But you said the magic was mine to command.”
“Ours,” Edwin corrected her.
“Indeed it is,” agreed Inglenook. “But you have used your quota for the day.”
“Quota?” Bryony shook her head. “What quota?”
“As I mentioned before, when the Wise Ones built Wychetts, they put certain safeguards in place to stop future Guardians abusing its powers. Just as you are not allowed to use magic for personal wealth, you are also limited to a daily quota.”
“That’s daft,” snorted Byrony, flicking a lump of stodgy rice pudding from her hair. “You can’t ration magic.”
Edwin nodded in agreement, splattering the hearth with custard. “You could have told us about the quota before.”
“I did not see the need,” said Inglenook. “I thought you must have known, being descendants of Wise Ones. You may not use any more magic for the remainder of the day. After midnight, however, I will be free once more to grant any wish you desire, as long as it is not for personal wealth or gain.”
“Midnight?” Bryony turned her angry glare from Inglenook to Edwin. “This is all your fault. You made me use more magic than I meant to.”
“How can you say it’s my fault?” Edwin wasn’t prepared to take the blame for this. “I wasn’t the one who started chucking custard pies about.”
“But you made me do it. If it wasn’t for you…”
“Come now,” said Inglenook. “There is no magic spell that cannot wait another day.”
“But this one can’t,” whined Bryony. “You’re going to be demolished in…” She looked at her watch and gasped. “Fifteen minutes!”
There was a loud rapping noise from the hallway.
“They’re here,” said Bryony, trying desperately not to cry.
Bill and Jane were still arguing upstairs, and neither seemed to have heard the knock.
“We’d best sort it out,” said Edwin, traipsing out of the lounge.
Bryony followed, expecting to see a team of workmen in yellow hard-hats outside. But instead it was a beautiful blonde haired woman with green eyes and a gorgeous diamond necklace who stood at the cottage entrance, gloved knuckles resting against the arched doorframe.
“Hello Bryony,” purred Miss Pauncefoot. “And young Edwin.” She frowned as she looked at the children. “Why are you two covered in custard?”
“We had dinner a little early,” lied Bryony. “If we knew you were visiting we would have set an extra place on the kitchen floor.”
“Where’s the demolition team?” asked Edwin, peering past Miss Pauncefoot. “Has Mr Dawes decided to save Wychetts after all?”
“I’m afraid not.” Miss Pauncefoot stepped past the children and into the hallway. “That’s why I’ve come. To take one last look at the house before it’s gone forever.”
Bryony pulled a face. “Why bother? It’s only an old shack.”
“That’s not what I think,” purred Miss Pauncefoot, walking elegantly down the hallway. “I love old houses. They’re part of our heritage. They should be preserved and respected.”
“Bit late for Wychetts,” muttered Edwin, still dripping lumpy custard as he followed Miss Pauncefoot into the lounge. “Unless you’d like to buy it off us?”
Bryony walked in behind Edwin, and laughed at her stepbrother’s question. “Don’t be dumb. Only a fool would buy a dump like this.”
Edwin nodded. “Like your dad?”
Miss Pauncefoot nodded. “That might not be such a strange idea. I’ve been thinking of investing in a property for some time now. An older property. One that needs some tender loving care.”
Edwin’s eyes widened. “You mean like Wychetts?”
“Exactly like Wychetts, yes.” Miss Pauncefoot tapped her delicate chin with a slender, brown-gloved finger. “But I’m not sure my savings would cover everything that needs doing. Skilled labour isn’t cheap these days, and I don’t think I could afford it.”
Edwin nodded resignedly. But another brilliant idea had formed in Bryony’s mind.
“What if we gave you the house, for free?”
Miss Pauncefoot’s luscious pink lips curved into a beautiful smile. “Do you mean it?”
Edwin stared at Bryony, his jaw hanging open. “Have you lost your marbles?”
“One moment please.” Bryony smiled at Miss Pauncefoot, then grabbed Edwin’s arm and dragged him into the corner of the room.
“You’re mad,” said Edwin. “You can’t give the house away.”
“Not even if it means Wychetts will be saved?”
“Didn’t think you were bothered.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Good. Hope the new one works better.”
Bryony spoke through gritted teeth. “Listen, hollow-head. If we give the house to Miss Pauncefoot, it means she’ll call off the demolition. Wychetts will be saved, and we can use the magic again.”
Edwin nodded. “Yeah, but we can’t use the magic until after midnight.”
“I’ve thought of that,” whispered Bryony.
“But we’d have to square it with Mum and Dad…”
“Ahem!” Miss Pauncefoot’s right foot tapped the floor impatiently. “The demolition team will be here any moment. Have you reached a decision?”
“We have,” announced Bryony, walking back to Miss Pauncefoot. “We’ll give you the house for free. Deal?”
Miss Pauncefoot clapped her gloved hands together, and her green eyes flashed with joy. “The deal of the century. Wychetts will be mine!”
“But not yet,” said Bryony, raising a finger. “You can’t have Wychetts until after midnight.”
Miss Pauncefoot’s eyes narrowed into emerald slits. “Why?”
“Oh, no real reason.” Bryony shrugged as though it wasn’t important. “Just some legal small print stuff.”
“After midnight, you say.” Miss Pauncefoot chewed her bottom lip. “How long after midnight?”
“Five minutes should be enough,” said Bryony.
“One minute,” argued Miss Pauncefoot.
“OK.” Bryony nodded, remembering that Inglenook said he could get her to America in that amount of time. “One minute past midnight. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Miss Pauncefoot.
“Brilliant!” Bryony cheered and clenched her fists. “I am so outta this place!”
Edwin didn’t seem quite so enraptured. “But shouldn’t we let our parents know?”
Bryony was about to tell him to grow up and stop being a wuss, when she saw something at the window: something that shouldn’t have been there.
“The ugly tree,” she murmured, pointing at the gnarled trunk now visible through the broken pane. “How can it be there? It was round the front of the house before.”
“But trees can’t move,” said Edwin. “Can they?”
“They move all the time,” said Miss Pauncefoot, stepping in front of the window. “Never mind the silly old tree. We have more important matters to deal with.” She produced a small bottle from inside her coat. “Such as having a little drink to celebrate our transaction”
“I don’t think so,” said Edwin. “We’re too young to drink. And Mum says it turns your brains to mush.”
“In your case that wouldn’t take much doing,” said Bryony. “I’ll have a drink, Miss Pauncefoot.”
“You must call me Katya from now
on.” A smiling Miss Pauncefoot unscrewed the bottle and offered it to Bryony. “Here, take a sip.”
Bryony took the bottle. “What is it?”
“Just a harmless, herbal concoction. Go on, take a sip.”
Bryony hesitated. She didn’t like anything ‘herbal’ (especially Jane’s horrible tea).
“Just a sip.” Katya looked expectantly at Bryony.
Bryony raised the bottle, and took a sniff. It smelled surprisingly sweet, like honey.
“Just a sip,” repeated Katya. “That’s all I ask.”
Bryony obliged, and smiled as she felt the syrupy, warming liquid slip down her throat.
“Now the boy.” Katya nodded at Edwin. “He must drink also.”
“It’s lovely,” said Bryony, licking her lips as she passed the bottle to Edwin. “Go on, try some.”
Edwin looked doubtful. “Mum says…”
“What does your mum know about anything?” said Bryony.
“She’s a teacher,” replied Edwin.
Bryony smirked. “Exactly.”
“I’m waiting.” Katya tapped her foot again. “The demolition team will be here in minutes, and our deal won’t be formalised until you have both taken a drink.”
Edwin glanced at Bryony, wiped the top of the bottle with his sleeve, and then took a sip.
“Excellent.” A purring Katya took the bottle back from him. “Now the transaction has been sealed.”
Craaaaa-aaaaccck!
A ragged black bird with a bald head landed in the branches of the ugly tree, and stared through the window with its tiny grey eyes. For some reason it made Bryony think of the man from the Council.
“I suppose we’d better tell Mr Dawes,” she suggested. “Before it’s too late?”
Katya smiled again, but it was a cold, callous expression. “I’m afraid it is already too late; for Wychetts and the pair of you.”
Bryony tried to ask Katya what she meant, but found she couldn’t speak.
Craaaaa-aaaaccck!
The black bird flapped its wings and hopped excitedly on the branch. The face in the trunk of the ugly tree seemed to come alive, leering at her…
“Bryony,” gasped Edwin. “I feel odd.”
“You are odd,” said Bryony.
“No, I mean... really odd.”
If truth be told, Bryony was feeling odd, too. Her head was swimming, and stars flashed before her eyes. Even worse, her skin seemed to be crawling, the flesh tightening painfully around her bones.
Craaaaa-aaaaccck!
Bryony heard the bird’s cackle, but she couldn’t see anything now except dabs of hazy colour.
Edwin made a choking sound. Then there was a pulsing flash, and Bryony felt her ears pop. There was a sudden rush of air around her, and she crumpled in a heap as her legs turned to jelly.
Lying on the floor, and numb with shock, Bryony forced her head up and saw she was no longer in the lounge. She wasn’t even in the cottage; at least not a part of it she recognised.
The room was the size of an aircraft hangar. The ceiling was so high that she could hardly make it out, and the walls seemed miles away.
Edwin lay beside her, quivering like a leaf, his wide grey eyes focussed on something above them. Something big. Really big…
Bryony tried to stand for a better look, but a giant chocolate coloured boot stamped down close by, so hard that the ground shuddered and her legs collapsed beneath her again.
The giant boot was attached to an equally giant leg, which in turn connected with a figure as tall as a skyscraper. It was a woman, with blonde hair, and a diamond studded necklace.
A pair of huge green eyes stared down at Bryony. Katya Pauncefoot threw her head back and laughed. The noise sounded like thunder magnified a thousand times.
“What…” croaked Bryony, rubbing her eyes. “How…”
“That drink you just sampled,” explained Katya. “One of my favourite potions. Shrinks everything down to handy bite-sized portions.”
Katya raised her arms. There was a burst of bright light, and Katya’s face began to change, her beautiful features morphing into those of a cat.
“A cat,” screamed Edwin, shaking his head in terrified amazement. “You’re a cat!”
But Katya hadn’t turned into any old cat. She was a beautiful cream coloured cat with chocolate paws, green eyes, and a gorgeous diamond collar!
“You!” shrieked Bryony, shrinking away from the giant feline that stood in place of Katya. “You’re the one that attacked me!”
“It was only a scratch,” purred Katya (literally now). “If you think that hurt, wait until I’ve finished with you this time.”
“Do something,” yelled Bryony, staring pleadingly at the wooden face so high above her. “Come on, Inglenook. Help us!”
Inglenook remained silent, his carved features staring impassively into space.
“Mum,” shouted Edwin. “Help me!”
“Neither Inglenook or your parents can help you now,” snarled Katya.
The cat raised a massive paw, and Bryony flinched as the sharp dagger claws came slicing through the air towards her...
Wychetts Page 16