by Alex Bell
The next thing they knew, all the teddies were firing magic spells at them, lighting up the clearing like fireworks and filling the air with the smell of explosives. The explorers were forced to duck behind the broomstick trees for cover.
“Great Scott!” Ethan cried, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “What in the blazes is going on here? Why the devil is my hair curled up into ringlets? And are those teddy bears that are attacking us?”
“Ferocious little things, aren’t they?” Cadi replied. “I remember Drusilla told me once that they can get terribly upset if you interrupt one of their picnics.”
The teddy bears were advancing toward them, so Beanie reached into his bag and grabbed the first thing he found, which happened to be the rubber duck from the genie. He hurled it on the ground, and a bathtub immediately appeared, steaming with jelly-bean-scented bubbles and a collection of floating narwhals.
The teddy bears stopped and stared at this for a moment before hurling so many magic spells at it that the bath exploded into pieces, water and narwhals sloshing out onto the ground before them.
“I’m going to have to freeze them,” Stella said, reaching past Buster to dig her tiara out of her pocket. “We’re all going to get blown up otherwise.”
She shoved the sparkling tiara on her head and stepped out from behind the tree to face the teddy bears, blue magic already sparking and glittering at her fingertips. Just as she was about to throw ice magic at the teddies, a girl came crashing into the clearing.
“Sorry I’m late!” she cried. “Sorry! But I brought gingerbread!”
Everyone turned to stare at her. She was, quite obviously, a witch. Stella thought she must have been about ten years old. She wore a black dress edged with lace, a pointed witch’s hat, black-and-orange-striped stockings, and black shoes with little block heels and shiny gold buckles. She had a broomstick in one hand and a tray of gingerbread men balanced in the other.
All the teddy bears turned and fled from the explorers, rushing over to the girl and crowding around her feet, tugging at her skirt with their paws, and finally speaking. At least, Stella thought they were speaking, but really it just sounded like gibberish—a strange mixture of growls and squeaks and snorts.
“Drusilla!” Cadi exclaimed.
“Oh,” the witch said, staring at the scene before her. “Hi, Cadi. Who are all these people?” She hefted the tray and said, “Would they like some gingerbread? I made enough for guests.”
“Are you friends with a witch?” Stella looked at Cadi, aghast.
The witch hunter shrugged. “Sure, we’re friends,” she said. “How about I introduce you? Drusilla, this is Stella Starflake Pearl. She’s an ice princess and—”
“But witches are evil!” Stella exclaimed, cutting her off. “How can you possibly be friends with one?”
“I say, that’s rather mean,” Drusilla said. She marched across the clearing and stared up at Stella with a fierce look. The top of her pointed hat barely came up to Stella’s shoulder. “And rude, too. Princesses aren’t meant to be rude. They’re meant to be lovely.” She jabbed at Stella with her broomstick. “Why aren’t you lovely?”
“Stella is extremely lovely,” Beanie said loyally. “She’s the loveliest person I know.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound much like it to me,” Drusilla said. She gestured behind her. “The teddies say you interrupted their picnic and then threatened them with ice magic. Totally unprovoked too.”
The tiara glittered in Stella’s hair and her hand was still outstretched, blue sparks of magic fizzing around her fingertips.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it unprovoked,” Shay said reasonably.
“They attacked us,” Stella said. She jerked her head over her shoulder and said, “Look at the trees.”
Drusilla glanced at the broomstick trees, which were singed and still smoking a little.
“Well, you can’t blame them for that,” she said. “You frightened them.”
“We didn’t mean to,” Shay said. “Look, I think this is all a bit of a misunderstanding.” He reached up, gently took hold of Stella’s wrist, and drew her hand back down to her side. “But there’s no real harm done, is there? And I’m sure no one wants to magically attack anyone else without good reason.”
“Why are your fairies being sick?” Drusilla asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Have they been eating my house? They better not have been eating my house.”
Stella turned and saw that the jungle fairies were, indeed, being frightfully ill—clutching onto Nigel’s humps and vomiting over his side.
“Oh dear,” she said. “Well, at least it means they’ll leave the picnic alone.”
Drusilla set the tray of gingerbread men down on the floor, and the little man-shaped biscuits instantly got up from the baking sheet and started running around. The teddies raced after them, scooping them up before they could escape into the forest (although one or two of them did manage to climb up into the safety of a broomstick tree) and taking them back to the picnic spread.
“Everyone, this is Drusilla,” Cadi said in a firm voice. “She’s a witch, but she’s also a friend, and I’m sure you’ll all like her very much if you give her half a chance.”
“But if she’s your friend, then how come you’re capturing her to prove yourself as a hunter?” Stella asked.
“Dru’s just doing me a favor,” Cadi said. “Besides, I already told you I’d rather be an explorer than a hunter.”
“I’ve just remembered—don’t ice princesses have frozen hearts?” Drusilla asked, looking at Stella warily.
“This one doesn’t,” Cadi said. She glanced at Stella and said, “Not all ice princesses are villains, are they? Well, guess what? Not all witches are evil either.” She patted Drusilla on the shoulder and said, “Most witches are just people who like cats and magic. This one can be a bit of a cheeky monkey sometimes, but she’s definitely not evil.”
Stella looked down at the little witch in front of her. She had to admit that she certainly didn’t look evil. Her eyes were bright green and shining with curiosity—there was a smattering of freckles over her nose, which turned up just a little at the end, and her hair was a bright, bold red and frizzed out in all directions beneath her pointed hat.
Stella reached up and removed the tiara from her hair, tucking it back into her cloak. She could practically hear Felix’s voice in her head, chastising her for believing that all witches were evil. Hadn’t she herself suffered the exact same prejudice from people who thought all ice princesses were wicked and who had judged her before they had even laid eyes on her?
Suddenly Stella felt rather ashamed of herself. “Oh dear, I am sorry,” she said. “I had a bad experience with a witch when I was little, but that doesn’t excuse being beastly to every witch I meet. I hope you can forgive me.”
Drusilla beamed up at her. “Think nothing of it,” she said. “I’ve forgotten it already. The bears say you can stay and share the picnic with them if you like.”
“They were trying to blow our heads off five seconds ago!” Ethan exclaimed.
“Bears don’t hold grudges,” the witch replied.
“Magicians do,” Ethan grunted.
“Thank you,” Stella said. “Normally we’d be delighted, but I’m afraid we can’t stop. My father has gone after a very dangerous witch who lives here, and we’ve got to catch up with him before he reaches her.”
“That’s terribly brave of you,” Drusilla replied. “We may not all be evil, but there’s still plenty of fiendishly dangerous witches living on Witch Mountain. Not to mention the witch wolves.”
Stella noticed that at the mention of the witch wolves Shay shuddered beside her. She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.
“It’s a shame you can’t come too, Dru,” Cadi said.
“Why can’t she?” Beanie asked.
“Infant witches aren’t allowed past the Forest of Enchanted Broomsticks,” Cadi said. “We think it’s because the witches
who live at the top of the mountain are all pretty dangerous, so they don’t want kids wandering around up there.”
“That’s right. Except I’m not an infant witch anymore,” Drusilla said, beaming. “Haven’t you noticed anything different about me?”
Cadi looked at her for a moment, then gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “You’ve got your witch’s hat!”
Drusilla nodded. “The spells goblin visited me last night. I’m a witch in training now!”
“How marvelous!” Cadi replied. She glanced at the others and said, “When infant witches become witches in training they get a visit from the spells goblin, who bestows them with several gifts.” She counted them off on her fingers. “One pointy witch’s hat, one pair of magic shoes, one flying broomstick, and a familiar egg.”
“What’s a familiar egg?” Shay asked.
Drusilla rummaged in her pocket and produced a small, smooth egg that looked like it was made of black marble. Swirling veins of white shot through it.
“The spells goblin left it in my shoe,” Drusilla said. “Isn’t it absolutely marvelous? It’s jolly wonderful being a witch, you know.”
“It’s just a lump of rock.” Ethan grunted. “What’s so marvelous about that?”
Drusilla rolled her eyes. “It’s not a rock,” she said. “It’s an egg. I have to take care of it until it hatches.”
“Hatches?” Stella exclaimed. “But what’s in there?”
“I don’t know,” Drusilla said. “That’s the best part! A witch’s familiar could be a cat, a bat, a raven, a fox, a frog, a newt, an owl, or a monkey, but you don’t know what until the egg hatches.”
“You can’t seriously expect a monkey to hatch out of that thing?” Ethan said, peering at the little egg dubiously. “Monkeys don’t come from eggs.”
“Neither do bats, or frogs, or newts, or foxes, or cats,” Beanie said. “Unless it’s the hissing, egg-hatching spotted cat from the Floating Island of Munga Munga, and they’re meant to be extremely dangerous. They go straight for the eyes, you know.”
“Witches’ familiars aren’t like normal animals,” Drusilla explained. “They’re magical animals to assist the witch with their spell-making. The spells goblin decides what would be the best fit for you when they give you the egg. I hope I don’t get a newt. My sister, Cordelia, got a newt familiar last year, and he’s ever so grouchy. Sometimes he sticks his tongue in your cereal just for the sake of it. Although I suppose that makes sense, because Cordelia is the same.”
“She sometimes sticks her tongue in your cereal just for the sake of it?” Beanie asked, staring.
“No, I mean she’s grouchy like Herbert. That’s the newt’s name.” She sighed. “I do hope I get a fox, one with a big fluffy tail, that I can cuddle in bed at night.” She looked at Stella and said, “I suppose you’ve got a unicorn you cuddle in bed, haven’t you? What with being a princess and all.”
“I do have a unicorn,” Stella agreed. “But she sleeps in the stable. I’ve got a pygmy T. rex I cuddle in bed sometimes, though. Buster is an excellent cuddler.” She reached into her pocket to give his scaly head a rub.
“Goodness, how lovely! A unicorn and a dinosaur!” Drusilla exclaimed. “It must be great being a princess. Well, I’m sure the spells goblin knows what’s right for me and has picked out the very best familiar there ever was.” She glanced at the broomstick in her hand. “I haven’t quite gotten the hang of this thing yet, though.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before the broomstick shot straight up into the sky a few feet. Drusilla had kept her grip on it, so her feet left the floor altogether, leaving her dangling in the air. “Oh drat,” she said. “Sometimes it seems to have a mind of its own.” The broomstick started to float lazily around the clearing, taking Drusilla with it. “I hardly know whether I’m coming or going,” she complained.
“Well, we need to be going,” Cadi said. “We have a rescue mission to mount.”
“Follow me,” Drusilla called over her shoulder. “I’ll take you through the witch gate, but first we need to get you out of the forest. Don’t worry. I know the best way to avoid the swampy marsh gnomes, the singing hex beasts, and the snarling troll-face trees.”
She was already disappearing from the clearing, still dangling from her broomstick. The others had to scramble to keep up with her, leaving the teddy bears to finish their picnic in peace.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AS THEY CONTINUED THROUGH the forest, Beanie hopped up onto Nigel’s back to tend to the jungle fairies, who were moaning, groaning, clutching their stomachs, and generally feeling very sorry for themselves. Beanie fashioned some little blankets out of monogrammed hankies he had in his pocket, and also took out the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club medical kit, which contained two miniature rescue dogs with brandy barrels around their necks.
“We did try to warn you not to eat the enchanted gingerbread,” he told them. “But perhaps a drop of brandy will make you feel better?”
The jungle fairies didn’t seem too interested in the brandy, but they were happy to cuddle the dogs.
A short while later the group emerged from the broomstick forest and found themselves blinking in the sunlight sparkling off the snow. It had been so dark and gloomy that Stella had quite forgotten it was actually daytime, but now they found themselves out on the mountainside, surrounded by elegant frost trees and more iced pumpkins. After the swampy fumes of the forest, it was rather nice to be breathing in the cold, sharp air once again. Three paths stretched away from them.
“We need to take that one,” Drusilla said, pointing with her spare hand at the left path.
“What’s down the other two?” Beanie asked.
“The middle one leads to a field of argumentative mushrooms,” Drusilla said. “They’re extremely nasty, actually, and poisonous, too—you wouldn’t want to tangle with them. They’ll fungus you if they get half the chance. And the right-hand path leads to a steep drop into a bottomless chasm, so you really don’t want to go tumbling into that, especially given that there are biting rock heads with very sharp teeth on the way down. But the left path leads to the witch gate, which’ll take you straight to the top of the mountain.”
“And that way is safe, is it?” Ethan demanded.
“Well, you know, nothing on Witch Mountain is entirely safe,” Drusilla said. “But it’s certainly the least perilous.”
“The least perilous,” Ethan repeated. “Oh good.”
And with that Drusilla’s broomstick set off down the path, with the witch dangling beneath it.
“Are you just going to dangle from your broom like that the whole way?” Ethan demanded.
“So what if I am?” Drusilla replied over her shoulder.
“It’s absurd,” Ethan said.
“Well, personally, I think your ringlets are quite, quite absurd,” Drusilla replied. “Whatever have you done it for? Perhaps you thought to disguise yourself as Little Red Riding Boot, but it won’t work, you know. Any witch would see straight through that.”
Ethan scowled and tugged his fingers through the ringlets, but they stubbornly refused to uncurl.
“Your arm will get yanked right out of your socket, and it’ll serve you right.” Ethan sniffed.
“Witches don’t get tired arms,” Drusilla said cheerfully. “It’s one of our many strengths. We could walk around on our hands all day long if we chose. In fact, my sister, Cordelia, once walked around on her hands for an entire week, but I rather think she did that only to annoy me.”
“Witches are a weird bunch,” Ethan said.
Shay sighed. “You know what, Prawn? You’d make a heck of a lot more friends if you weren’t so antagonistic to people all the time.”
“I have plenty of friends already, thank you,” Ethan said.
“You’re my friend, aren’t you, Ethan?” Beanie piped up from the camel. “You told me so on our last expedition.”
“That’s right, Beanie,” Ethan said. He tilted his he
ad in his loftiest manner and said, “You’re worthy of being my friend. There’s nothing wrong with being particular about it, though.” He gave Shay a withering look and said, “I expect you’d make friends with a worm given half a chance, but one can’t expect much else from a wolf whisperer, I suppose.”
“You are still coming to my birthday party, aren’t you, Ethan?” Beanie said. “Only you haven’t responded to the invitation I sent.”
Ethan sighed. “Beanie, I’ve told you a million times I’ll be there. Magicians always attend their friends’ birthday parties. It’s one of our golden rules. But your birthday is weeks away. Isn’t it a little early to be sending out invitations?”
“You haven’t told me a million times,” Beanie said at once. “You’ve told me fifty-six times.”
“Well, why do you keep asking me, then?” Ethan grumbled.
“Because you haven’t replied to my invitation,” Beanie said. “You need to fill in the little slip at the bottom and tick the box to say you want to come. That’s how it works. Also, I need your reply to show Uncle Benedict. After Moira said she didn’t want to be my friend anymore, Uncle said it wasn’t worth throwing birthday parties for me because no one but Stella ever turns up. He said it was a waste of good cake, and piñatas, and whistles, and balloons, and paper hats. Uncle says it’s too pathetic for words, that’s what Uncle says. So unless I can guarantee that at least three people are going to come, then I’m not allowed to have a party on my next birthday.”
“What a mean old crank.” Ethan grunted. “I’ll reply to your invitation the moment I return home.”
“Gosh, it sounds like a smashing party, though, if there’s to be cake, and piñatas, and whistles, and balloons, and paper hats,” Cadi exclaimed. “Could I come, do you think?”
Beanie gaped at her. “Would you?”
“I’ve never been to a birthday party before,” she replied. “Witch hunters don’t tend to have too many friends. Nor do witches. That’s why Drusilla and I were very glad to make friends with each other.” Cadi strained forward in Gus’s saddle to call to the little dangling witch. “What about you, Dru? Have you ever been to a birthday party?”