Witch in Winter

by Kaye Umansky

  ‘Dad said it was empty,’ said Terry. ‘Ripe for the taking.’

  ‘He’s not gonna be happy,’ said Trevor. ‘It sounds like there’s a back-up witch. As well as that gobby bird.’

  ‘The bird don’t count, though. It’s the witch that counts, innit?’

  ‘Yeah, well, whatever. It’ll put him in a right mood.’ Trev sighed heavily.

  ‘I didn’t like that tower much,’ said Terry as they turned and trudged away. He glanced uneasily over his shoulder. ‘Giving off unfriendly vibes, it was. I don’t think it wants us to move in.’

  ‘The ivy’s nice,’ said Trevor.

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty enough,’ conceded Terry, ‘but there can’t be much space in there. Dad’ll take the biggest room and give the next best to Tracy and we’ll get to share a cupboard. And there’ll be loads of stairs. It’s a tower, innit? Tall and thin.’

  ‘Maybe it’s magically bigger on the inside than the outside,’ suggested Trev. ‘Some places are. But it’s not the looks what count, is it? It’s the movin’ bit that counts. First sign o’ danger, shove off to a different dimension, problem sorted. I heard these towers have got other special features as well. Some of ’em have a magic larder wiv all yer favourite food.’

  ‘That’d be good,’ said Trevor. ‘Better than what Dad cooks.’

  ‘He don’t cook it, though,’ said his twin. ‘It’s all frozen. I could do wiv a decent hot meal, like Ma makes.’

  ‘Don’t say that in front of ’im,’ said Trevor. ‘We’ll get anuvver lecture about how we’re the Frosts and we Don’t Do Hot.’ He stopped and looked around. ‘Are we goin’ the right way?’

  ‘I fink so. I recognizes that tree.’

  Uncertainly, they moved on.

  ‘I’ll tell you somefing, Trev,’ said Terry. ‘I wish I hadn’t come. Dad reckons he’s doing us a favour, showin’ us ’is lifestyle, ’ow he does what he wants an’ takes what he wants an’ lives by ’is own set o’ rules. But I’m not that interested in ’avin’ a magical power. I don’t want to bring winter. I’d sooner learn a trade.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Trevor. ‘I’ve certainly ’ad enough of that ice house.’

  ‘I’ve ’ad enough of Dad,’ said Terry. ‘Shoutin’ an’ bossin’ us about. An’ makin’ us wear these daft white coats and caps and white shoes. Whoever wears white shoes in winter?’

  ‘Too right,’ said Trevor mournfully, as they trudged along through the snow.

  Some distance away, inside the ice house, another conversation was taking place through a closed bathroom door made of ice. Jack Frost was talking to his daughter.

  ‘Tracy,’ said Jack. ‘Stop sulkin’.’

  ‘You never let me do nuffin’,’ came the sullen mumble from behind the door.

  ‘I do, darlin’, I do. I spoils you rotten. Remember that little penguin I gotcha?’

  ‘You mean the one you took away because it did a whoopsy in your stupid boot?’

  ‘They’re Daddy’s special boots, though, ain’t they? That’s why Daddy was a bit cross. What about the nice frock I got you for yer birthday?’

  ‘It was white! I hate white! I like green and I quite like pink but I like blue best and you don’t even know. You’re mean. Why can’t I have a friend?’

  ‘What d’you need a friend for when you got family? You’re a Frost!’

  ‘So what? If I can’t see Sylphine then we might as well go back to Ma’s!’

  ‘We can’t go back to Ma’s because I’m havin’ a little bit o’ bovver wiv the authorities. You knew that when you came wiv me. You begged me to let you come.’

  ‘I thought it’d be fun, but it’s not. I’m cold and bored and the food’s horrible.’

  ‘Well, we’re gonna live in a magic movin’ tower soon. Once yer dozy brothers find it again, we’ll be moving in. You’ll love it. We’ll whizz about all over the place! We’ll set off a few avalanches! Build more ice palaces! Or just go somewhere chilly and watch old people fall over. Your choice.’

  ‘I don’t want to go all over the place, I just want to go to Sylphine Greenmantle’s and dye my hair blue. You never let me do nuffin’.’

  Jack spun round in his chair, pointed a finger at the wall and let off a single exasperated blast of ice. It drilled through the wall in a shower of white and blue sparks, making quite a decent-sized hole. Through it, he caught a glimpse of Spike in the distance, looking angry.

  ‘I heard that,’ came the voice behind the bathroom ice door. ‘Ma says you shouldn’t use your frosting finger indoors. When I get home, I’m telling.’

  Chapter Ten

  NOW WHAT?

  Back at the tower, everyone sat in the kitchen with their toes thawing, tucking into a late lunch, courtesy of the magic larder. Sylphine had jelly and cake; Joey was halfway through a bowl of jammy rice pudding. Elsie had gone for a cheese sandwich and Corbett was picking at a plate full of nuts and raisins, with a side order of spiders sprinkled with icing sugar. Outside, on the doorstep, Nuisance was eating a sausage, watched with vague horror by Bill. (Wire baskets don’t eat.)

  Nobody talked much until the food was gone. All that walking through the snowy forest had been tiring – and though no one wanted to admit it out loud, they hadn’t really achieved much.

  Corbett was bursting to tell everyone about the Frost boys’ visit, but had so far refrained, although it was making his beak ache. Nobody had asked him how his day had gone, he noticed. He would spring it on them. A big reveal, when they were really paying attention.

  ‘So, the witches didn’t help at all?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ said Joey. ‘They didn’t seem a bit bothered about Her Witchiness going missing. More keen to talk about Jack Frost.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Corbett looked casual. ‘Jack Frost, eh? What about him?’

  ‘It seems he’s in the forest,’ said Elsie. ‘He’s got three of his children with him. Sylphine saw them, didn’t you, Sylphine?’

  Sylphine scraped up the last of her jelly. ‘I did. There’s a reindeer called Spike and they live in a scary ice house on runners. And I talked to Tracy, she’s his daughter, then her brothers came out and I ran away. Tracy said they want to move into the tower, but they can’t, can they? Tracy was nice, though.’

  ‘What did she say exactly about her dad being in trouble?’ asked Elsie.

  ‘Nothing much. Just that he’s on the run and they can’t go home. You’ll never guess where home is.’

  This was Corbett’s moment. He had remained silent for long enough.

  ‘Could be any of many flashy ice palaces dotted around in various cold dimensions,’ he said. ‘All space and echoes, no soft furnishings. Ice statues and carvings everywhere. Massive grounds with frozen lakes. All for show, of course. Nobody lives in any of them except a yeti called Ian. He’s the caretaker.’

  ‘Corbett!’ cried Elsie. ‘How do you know so much about Jack Frost’s living arrangements?’

  ‘Well, nobody bothered to ask about my day,’ said Corbett, ‘but it so happens I had quite an interesting morning. After the Frost boys had come and gone, I went up to Magenta’s office—’

  ‘Whoah!’ shouted Elsie and Joey, in chorus.

  Corbett ignored them and continued, ‘– and I looked up Jack Frost in Who’s What? It gives little potted histories about all the big names. Also –’ he paused, and gave a proud little smirk, enjoying his moment – ‘I happen to know an eagle called Neville who is mates with Ian. They play darts together. After looking up Jack, I flew off and had a word with Nev.’

  ‘Go back to the start,’ said Joey. ‘What was that about the Frost boys being here?’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I say? They called round earlier. Snooping around, demanding to see the witch, who wasn’t here.’ He stared pointedly at Elsie.

  ‘We tried to be quick,’ said Elsie.

  ‘Well, anyway, Sylphine’s right, Jack is planning to seize the tower. Somehow, he’s found out that the tower is without a witch.’

  ‘
Did you tell them Elsie’s here, covering for Magenta?’ said Sylphine.

  ‘I did,’ said Corbett. ‘But I suspect Jack will think—’ He caught Joey’s eye and closed his beak.

  ‘What?’ said Elsie.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You think he’ll assume I won’t be able to stop him?’ said Elsie. ‘That I’ll be a walkover for someone like him?’

  ‘Well, he knows a few tricks, Elsie. He’s been around for a while.’

  ‘And I’m still in training.’

  ‘You’re getting good, though,’ said Sylphine loyally. ‘We all have faith in you, don’t we, Joey?’

  ‘ ’Course we do,’ said Joey, who had been saying little because he was busy eating. ‘Out of interest, Corbs, in all those palaces, is everything made of frost and ice? Even the toilets?’

  ‘There aren’t any toilets. Everything’s just for show,’ said Corbett. ‘Nowhere to boil a kettle, even.’

  ‘How does Ian manage, then?’ asked Joey. ‘With no kettle or toilet?’

  ‘Neville didn’t say. But he did say that Jack’s wife hates all of Jack’s palaces. That’s why she has her own and decorated it herself. Heavy velvet curtains and roaring fires and draft excluders. Lots of cushions. That sort of thing. In fact, she’s not happy with Jack full-stop. Thinks he’s a bad influence on the kids.’

  ‘Wow, Corbett,’ said Joey. ‘I didn’t know birds gossiped.’

  ‘I don’t. Nev does. I just listen and learn.’ Corbett swallowed the last iced spider. ‘Anyway Jack’ll get what he deserves when the Magic Circle finally catches up with him. Let’s not worry about him for now. We need to find Magenta. That’s what’s important.’

  Elsie sighed. ‘I just don’t know what to do next. Thanks for your help, Joey and Sylphine, but you should probably both think about going home soon. It gets dark early with this snow.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Joey. ‘Not with the Frosts lurking about making threats. Me and Bill are staying right here with you.’

  ‘I’m staying, too,’ said Sylphine. ‘I don’t want to go out in the cold again. I lost all my scarves. And sleepovers are fun!’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Elsie, pleased that she would have company.

  ‘So, what shall we do next?’ asked Joey.

  But no one knew the answer to that.

  Chapter Eleven

  NOISES IN THE NIGHT

  Later that evening, and after lots of discussion, they were still no further with a plan to track down Magenta.

  Everyone was sitting together in the kitchen. Joey and Bill were tending to the fire, making sure the room stayed warm and cosy. Sylphine had found paper and crayons and was at the table drawing Spike from memory, surrounded by red hearts. Meanwhile, Elsie was looking through Magenta’s spell books. Wendy, Shirley and Maureen might think that there was no point using magic to track down Magenta, but there was no harm in looking. But in the end, she gave up. None of the spells were right. They were all about finding where you’d left your glasses, your umbrella, your false teeth, things like that. Nothing at all about how to find a missing witch.

  Corbett just couldn’t settle. He didn’t want to talk. He kept shuffling up and down his perch, shaking his head and giving huge sighs. The longer Magenta was missing, the more convinced he was that she had left because of him.

  When the light began to fade, Elsie went out to feed Nuisance his supper sausage.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right out here?’ she whispered in his ear.

  Nuisance gave her ear a lick. Yep. He would.

  Elsie gave him a goodnight hug, spread out his bedding on the doorstep and took a look around the cold, silent glade. The moon was up, causing long blue shadows to creep across the snow. She went back in and locked and bolted the door.

  In the kitchen, Corbett was on the far side of his perch, head beneath his wing. Joey was snoozing in the rocking chair with Bill purring gently on his lap. Sylphine was asleep at the table, her head on her drawing.

  Everything felt like it was in the right place. Except for the rightful witch.

  I wish she’d come back, thought Elsie.

  She collected blankets from the linen chest, and put them over her sleeping friends. She turned off the lamp and blew out the candles. Then she sat in the one remaining chair and pulled a blanket over herself. The bed upstairs in her own blue room was wonderful. But tonight, they needed to stay together.

  There’s no way I can sleep, she thought, staring into the glowing fire. Not with everything that’s going on. No way . . .

  Elsie awoke with a snap in the dark, the sound of jangling bells ringing in her ear.

  For a moment, she thought she was back home in the flat, then she remembered where she was. She was in a chair in the tower kitchen and outside, Nuisance was barking.

  He never barked at night. Something – or somebody – was out there.

  Despite being banked high, the fire was almost out. Only a few embers still glowed orange. The kitchen felt cold.

  ‘Do you hear that?’ hissed Corbett, from out of the dark. ‘Someone’s out there. The tower knows it too. It’s on alert. Feel it?’

  Yes. Elsie could feel it. There was a definite feeling of tension in the air. The tower was clearly on edge.

  ‘What’s up?’ came Joey’s voice from the armchair.

  ‘There’s someone outside,’ said Elsie. ‘I’m going to find out who.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ said Corbett.

  ‘Maybe not, but we can’t leave Nuisance out there going mad all night.’ The blanket slithered down as she stood up and groped for the matches.

  ‘What’s happening?’ came Sylphine’s bleary voice.

  ‘I’m just taking a look outside,’ said Elsie. A match flared and the wick of the big kitchen lamp caught the flame.

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Joey. ‘Mind out, Bill, I’m standing up.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Sylphine.

  Corbett flew onto her shoulder. ‘We’re all with you,’ he said.

  Followed closely by the others, Elsie took the lamp, stepped into the tiny hall, unlocked the door and pulled back the bolts.

  ‘Slowly,’ advised Corbett. ‘Just a crack.’

  ‘No,’ said Elsie. ‘I want to see what we’re dealing with.’

  And she pulled the door wide open.

  ‘Mumbling magpies!’ squawked Corbett as the freezing air rushed in, blowing the lamp out. ‘Steady on, it’s blowing off my tail feathers!’

  Outside, Nuisance was stiff-legged and bristling with fury. He looked at Elsie with frantic eyes and delivered his loudest bark yet.

  ‘Thanks, Nuisance,’ said Elsie. ‘Good boy for sounding the alarm. We’re here now.’

  The forest glade was empty and bathed in starlight. So many stars, cold and distant, splashed across the night sky. Everything was black and white – shadows and snow.

  ‘Who’s there?’ shouted Elsie. She put the lamp down on the doorstep. ‘Show yourself, please.’

  She used her Shopkeeper Voice, the one her dad used when he’d had a bad day in the Emporium and his back hurt and a customer was taking half an hour choosing a pencil. It was clear, polite, firm. You wouldn’t want to argue with it.

  There was a long pause, filled with nothing but silence. A cold wind sighed in the treetops and then . . . once again . . . there came the sound of cracked, jangling bells mixed in with a slithering noise and the cracking of snapping branches. From the cover of the trees came Spike the reindeer, pulling the ice house.

  He stopped in the middle of the glade, shook his antlered head and bared his yellow teeth. The bells went silent. Behind him, the ice house glittered in starlight.

  ‘Wow!’ breathed Joey. ‘Somebody’s out to make an impression. Just look at the size of that reindeer.’

  ‘That’s Spike,’ Sylphine told him. ‘I love him.’

  Everyone waited for the next bit.

  The door swung open. And Jack Frost
stepped down into the snow.

  Chapter Twelve

  JACK

  Elsie had imagined Jack Frost as tall and thin, with sticking-up hair and clothes cut in zigzags.

  Joey had imagined someone tall and broad-shouldered, with a long cloak and flowing silver hair. A bit like Old Father Time, but younger.

  Sylphine had rather hoped he would be glittery and elf-like, with pointy toes and a crystal crown.

  So Jack Frost in the flesh was a bit of a disappointment for all of them.

  He wasn’t tall, for a start. In fact, he would have been shorter than average if it wasn’t for his white, pointy-toed, high-heeled knee boots. He wore a long white coat with a big fur collar. Rings glittered on every finger, and every finger ended in a long, sharp, silver nail. He had a small, pointy-ended moustache and long, greased-back white hair that he wore in a ponytail. On top of his head was a tall top hat, also white.

  Nothing really went together. All you could say of it was that it was colour co-ordinated.

  He stared at the little group crowded in the tower doorway.

  ‘Hah! Just a bunch o’ silly kids. And there was I, expecting a witch,’ he said.

  ‘Tell him,’ Corbett said to Elsie.

  ‘The witch is right here,’ said Elsie. She spoke with no hesitation. She was the witch. ‘Hello, Mr Frost. I heard you were in the forest.’

  I’ve come across your sort before, she thought. You’re the customer who strides past the queue and demands to be served first.

  ‘Is that right?’ Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘And there was me tryin’ to be inconspicuous. That’s what ’appens when you’re a big name. People notice.’

  ‘Show off,’ hissed Sylphine into Joey’s ear.

  ‘I’m Elsie Pickles, Witch Sharp’s stand-in,’ Elsie told him. ‘She’s not available right now.’

  ‘A bit of a titch for a witch, aincha?’ Jack Frost stared insultingly. ‘Where’s yer pointy hat?’

  ‘Witchcraft’s not about size or hats,’ said Elsie firmly. ‘It’s about reading the instructions, following the recipe and making it work.’