Havoc!: The Untold Magic of Cora Bell

by Rebecca McRitchie

  ‘Havocs don’t eat. They don’t sleep. They don’t talk,’ said Tick.

  ‘The magic destroys everything in its path,’ said Tock.

  ‘And it uses up the magical being, no matter what kind of magic they have, until . . . until there’s nothing left . . .’ added Tick.

  Cora’s mind whirred. Their skin turns dark? Like the cracks on her wrist? Their magic destroys everything in its path? Like a horde of gremlins? Fear wriggled inside Cora’s stomach like a leech. Was she a . . . a Havoc? With a hand, she slowly reached up and felt one of her teeth.

  ‘Havocs are dangerous,’ said Tock.

  ‘Did they fix her? The woman?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Nope,’ said Tock, shaking his head.

  ‘They were too late,’ said Tick.

  Cora looked down at her wrist.

  ‘I would never want to be within a fairy arm’s length of a Havoc,’ said Tick with a shiver. ‘That’s for sure.’

  ‘Oh, we could never be friends with a Havoc!’ said Tock.

  Cora swallowed. Perhaps it was best not to tell Tick and Tock about the black cracks. At least, not yet. Not until she was sure what exactly they meant. Maybe there was a way to stop it? She pushed her jacket sleeve over her wrist, covering the marks. ‘And,’ said Tick, ‘when father came back from the northern towns, he smelt of pickled fishtails.’

  ‘Pickled fishtails?’ she asked as she stepped over a fallen tree log, relieved for the change in conversation.

  ‘A delicacy in some of the northern towns,’ said Tock.

  ‘Though there is nothing delicate about pickled fishtails,’ said Tick, sticking out his tongue in disgust.

  ‘Why did he go to the northern towns?’ Cora asked.

  ‘The council,’ said Tock. ‘They move around from one secret meeting place to another secret meeting place.’

  ‘They could meet anywhere,’ said Tick. ‘Anytime.’ He squinted his eyes. ‘Secretly.’

  ‘What do the council do, exactly?’ Cora asked.

  ‘They keep order in the magical realm,’ said Tock.

  ‘With so many kings and queens, there has to be someone everybody listens to,’ said Tick.

  ‘What if you wanted to talk to them?’ Cora wondered.

  ‘Not possible,’ said Tock, shaking his head.

  ‘They find you,’ explained Tick. ‘And that’s never a good thing.’

  ‘It’s not?’ replied Cora.

  ‘There are six powerful council members,’ said Tock. ‘Forn Lockwood.’

  ‘Necromancer,’ explained Tick.

  ‘Hythia Halfache,’ said Tock.

  ‘Witch,’ explained Tick.

  ‘Boc Roc,’ said Tock.

  ‘Hobgoblin,’ explained Tick.

  ‘Plimryll Elm,’ said Tock.

  ‘Elf,’ explained Tick.

  ‘Sircane Montague,’ said Tock.

  Tick shuddered. ‘Vampire.’

  ‘And father,’ said Tock. ‘King Clang.’

  ‘Fairy,’ explained Tick. ‘But you already know that.’

  ‘The magical beings elected to the council change every two hundred years,’ said Tick.

  Two hundred years?! Was she going to live for that long?’ Cora wondered. She tried to picture herself as a two-hundred-year-old woman as she trudged on through the forest.

  When most of the morning had passed and the sun peeked through the tree branches and leaves above them, the soft flutter of Tick’s and Tock’s wings stopped.

  Cora, a few steps ahead, turned around to find the fairies standing on the ground, their eyes searching the area for something.

  ‘Have you lost something?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Tick.

  ‘We’re here,’ said Tock.

  Cora looked around. This part of the forest seemed exactly the same as all the other parts of the forest they had walked through. She couldn’t see any sign of a gateway.

  Then Tick stepped up to a fallen tree branch that sat on the ground near his feet. He lifted it up, and with it, a round door attached to the forest floor lifted up too. A hidden door.

  Cora walked over to the fairies and peered down into the dark hole. Stretching down into a dimly lit room was a small ladder.

  ‘Syphons first,’ said Tick, standing aside.

  Cora stepped onto the ladder and made her way down into the room. When she reached the end, she dropped to the bottom, her boots landing on a wooden floor.

  Cora had fallen into a home. Along one of the walls hung shelves overflowing with rows of canned food, and on another wall was a bookshelf heavy with books. She stared at the shelf of books. It reminded her of Dot’s. The one they had in their home behind the wall in Urt. Cora noticed that there weren’t any lamps. But, somehow, the room glowed as though it were lit by at least two.

  In the corner of the room, a lady sat reading in a round, orange chair. She bookmarked the page she was on and peered up at Cora. She smiled.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. Her small eyes were framed by a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and her short, white hair had a black streak down its left side.

  ‘Hello,’ Cora replied. She felt a little strange dropping down into somebody’s living room. She moved her weight from one foot to the other. ‘You have a lovely home,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you,’ said the lady. She glanced at where Cora’s eye used to be. ‘Need to go somewhere?’ she asked.

  Cora nodded. ‘Vanir,’ she said. She hoped she had said the name of it properly.

  The woman tilted her head.

  Perhaps she hadn’t.

  Tick and Tock flew down into the room, shutting the hidden forest-floor door behind them with a soft clunk.

  The woman raised an eyebrow at the fairies as they flew inside and fluttered next to Cora.

  ‘Hello Ellery,’ said Tock with a wave.

  ‘Still reading?’ asked Tick.

  ‘You’re all going to Vanir?’ asked Ellery.

  ‘Father was right; you are smart,’ said Tick with a smile.

  ‘Remember the last time you went to Vanir?’ said Ellery, keeping her grey eyebrow raised.

  ‘It is only for a short time, Ell,’ said Tock.

  ‘The fire was an accident,’ said Tick.

  ‘And it was not entirely our fault,’ said Tock.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Ellery. ‘Tell that to the three centaurs who had their hair completely singed off.’

  ‘We did!’ said Tick. ‘Numerous times!’

  ‘Doesn’t centaur hair grow back?’ asked Tock.

  Ellery shook her head.

  ‘Oh,’ said Tock.

  ‘Whoops,’ said Tick.

  With a sigh, Ellery reached behind her and pulled out a long stick from behind her chair. At the end of it Cora spotted the same chalk she had seen other guardians use on their travels. And without moving from her seat, Ellery stretched the stick outwards and drew a star shape on the wooden floor in front of them.

  The star shape glowed a bright blue before the wooden floor inside it disappeared, leaving a swirl of blue light in its place. The gateway used for travelling throughout the magical world was opened.

  Cora thanked Ellery who gave her a nod of farewell. Then she stepped forward and jumped with Tick and Tock into the whirling blue gateway to Vanir.

  Chapter Seven

  Cora landed on her feet. She paused, surprised. It was the first time she had travelled through a gateway and out the other side without falling or landing in water, in rubbish or on top of a fairy.

  ‘You’re getting better,’ said Tick.

  Cora smiled.

  They had appeared in the centre of a town. The wind blew dust about in small tufts where they stood. Cora held her hand up to shield her eye as she peered around. Shop fronts sat either side of them in neat rows and magical creatures strolled past them in the street.

  ‘This way,’ said Tick, flying towards the nearest row of shops.

  Cora stepped past a round man with a hat so broad it stretched out past h
is shoulders, and followed the fairies.

  She almost bumped into a woman with a pair of pointed tusks that grew down from her mouth, and a lady with scarlet skin who was walking a small, fluffy dog strode past. As Cora looked back at them, the dog’s white fur sparkled before changing colour to red.

  ‘What are we doing here again?’ she asked the fairies.

  ‘We need a guide,’ said Tock as he fluttered ahead.

  ‘Someone who knows the northern towns,’ added Tick.

  ‘Do you two not know the northern towns?’ Cora asked, a little worried. To be fair, she didn’t know the northern towns either.

  ‘The northern towns are vast,’ said Tock.

  ‘Vanir is as far north as we have ever come,’ said Tick.

  ‘Fairies don’t go past it,’ said Tock.

  ‘Why?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Father always said that the magical beings further north were . . . different,’ said Tock.

  ‘Different how?’ Cora wondered, hoping it was a good different and not a bad different.

  The fairies shrugged.

  ‘If anyone knows the northern towns, it’s Gromp,’ said Tick.

  Gromp?

  Cora glanced inside the shop windows to her left. One store sold sparkling gems that grew and shrunk to different sizes, another sold what looked to be wigs made of hair that styled itself. Then Cora saw something in one of the windows that made her stop. It was a poster stuck to the inside of the glass. It had a picture of two incredibly familiar-looking fairies and a large, out-of-control fire. Across the top, words were written: Fairies and fire don’t mix. If you see smoke, it’s not a joke. Then the poster flickered and then showed the fire chasing after two scared fairies.

  ‘Well, that’s not ideal,’ said Tick, fluttering next to her. ‘They didn’t get my chin right.’

  Cora looked pointedly at her friends. ‘We should hurry,’ said Tock.

  They made their way through the town until they came to a store that sold shoes. Cora looked inside the window at the colourful pairs of boots. And then suddenly Cora jumped back as a pair of blue sandals let out a loud ‘LAA LAA LAAA!’

  Tock turned down past the singing shoe shop and Tick and Cora followed.

  Against the wall of the shop sat a stack of boxes piled high. Cora continued walking, but Tick and Tock didn’t. Turning around, Cora saw that the fairies had stopped at the pile of boxes and were now looking at it intently.

  Cora paused, confused.

  ‘It’s that one,’ said Tock, pointing to a square-shaped box.

  ‘No, it’s that one,’ said Tick, pointing to a rectangular-shaped box.

  Cora walked over to the fairies.

  ‘Gromp,’ Tock called. ‘It’s Tock.’

  ‘And Tick,’ added Tick.

  Cora spun around. Who were they talking to? There was nobody near them. Well, at least nobody Cora could see.

  Tick and Tock waited patiently. And then in front of them, a large rectangular box at the bottom of the pile, opened.

  ‘Told you,’ said Tick, sticking his tongue out at his brother.

  Tick and Tock flew inside the box.

  Cora bent down and peered inside the now-open box. All she could see was darkness.

  Then suddenly Tock’s head poked through.

  ‘AH!’ Cora cried out, falling backwards in fright.

  ‘Come on, Cora,’ said Tock, before disappearing inside the box again.

  Cora sat up. She looked at the size of the box and the size of herself. She wasn’t sure that she was going to fit. Then, bending down, she crawled across the ground and into the open box.

  Chapter Eight

  It was a tight squeeze. The walls of the box rubbed against Cora’s shoulders and arms as she crawled through the dark tunnel. She heard Tick’s and Tock’s voices coming from somewhere ahead. Just when her knees had begun to hurt, the box tunnel opened up and a large room came into view.

  Cora stood up and looked around. A fire crackled from within a hearth to her left. There was a lounge with cushions, and candles sat atop a small round table. A few paintings hung on the walls and there was a kitchen along the opposite wall.

  Tick and Tock looked up at her from where they were seated on the lounge. Tick patted the seat next to him, motioning for Cora to sit.

  Cora stepped over to the lounge.

  ‘Cora,’ said Tick, ‘meet Gromp.’

  In front of her, by the round table with candles, was an empty chair. And floating in the chair, by itself, was a bowl of food.

  ‘Um,’ Cora said. She watched the bowl of food bob up and down in the air on its own and was about to say hello to it when Tock giggled.

  ‘Gromp,’ said Tock, ‘meet Cora.’

  With a soft crackle, a short man appeared seated in the chair.

  Cora jumped.

  ‘Hello,’ said the man. He was small like the fairies, his feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He had a messy pile of tangled blond hair on top of his head, and, Cora noticed, a pair of long cat whiskers either side of his round nose.

  Gromp held the bowl of food in two hands, and slurped up its contents without cutlery. The food was long like spaghetti. But as Cora looked closer, she could see that each piece of spaghetti wriggled. Like worms.

  ‘Tick and Tock said that you know the northern towns better than anyone,’ Cora said.

  Gromp smiled at her and nodded, slurping up some worms into his mouth.

  ‘We are going to the northern towns,’ said Cora. ‘We want to look for,’ she paused and glanced at Tick and Tock. The fairies nodded. ‘We are looking for . . . syphons.’

  Gromp stopped. A worm wriggled halfway out of his mouth. He quickly slurped it up and placed the bowl down on his lap.

  ‘No,’ he said, his eyes firm on Tick and Tock.

  ‘What?’ asked Tock.

  ‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ asked Tick.

  ‘You go there all the time,’ said Tock.

  Gromp shook his head, his whiskers twitching either side of his nose. ‘It’s different now.’ He placed the bowl of worms down on the table. Then with two hands he lifted up one of his yellow pant legs. Stretched across his right leg was a black mark in the shape of a rope, burnt into his skin. It wrapped itself around his leg twice.

  ‘A hunter’s trap?’ asked Tock, his eyes wide.

  Gromp nodded.

  Cora remembered what the fairies, King Clang and Artemis had said about syphons being hunted and killed. Then a thought occurred to her.

  ‘Are you a . . .’ she said.

  Gromp shook his head. ‘I was collecting tickle fruit in Borlg. When I was halfway up the tree, the tickle fruit shimmered and I realised it was a trap. The fire vines grabbed me. I haven’t been back since.’

  ‘Do you have any tickle fruit left?’ Tick asked, looking around hopefully.

  Tock elbowed his brother.

  ‘What about syphons?’ Cora asked. ‘Did you see any?’

  Gromp shook his head. Cora felt her hopes fall like old leaves from a tree.

  Then Gromp paused. ‘But there were stories,’ he said, ‘of a syphon in the northern towns. But there will be hunters,’ said Gromp to her. ‘There will be traps.’

  Cora swallowed. The mark on Gromp’s leg looked like it had hurt. A lot. But the possibility that there could be a syphon was all that she needed. She pictured a syphon alone, caught in a trap and surrounded by hunters. Scared. The image tugged at her.

  ‘If it’s true,’ said Cora. ‘If there is a syphon out there somewhere, and there are hunters, we have to help.’ She turned to the fairies. ‘Don’t we?’

  Tick and Tock stared at Cora. They nodded.

  ‘Gromp,’ said Tick. ‘Thank you, but we’re going to the northern towns.’

  Gromp looked from the fairies to Cora. He sighed. ‘It’s cold this time of year. Very cold,’ he said. Then he hopped down from his chair and walked with a slight limp, over to a cupboard against the wall. He pulled out three coats and
threw them to the fairies and Cora.

  Cora felt the coat in her hands. It was soft and warm like a furry blanket. But looking at its size, the coat was definitely much too small for her.

  ‘Try it on,’ said Gromp motioning to her coat.

  Doubtful, Cora put her arms into the coat with difficulty. She didn’t get very far when the coat suddenly expanded in her hands as though someone was filling it with air. The coat doubled and then tripled in size, covering her shoulders and stretching all the way down to reach her hands. Cora was swathed in a perfectly fitted coat. It tightened itself around her, moulding to her shape like a warm hug.

  When she looked up with a smile, she found Gromp staring at her, a question hidden in his eyes. But whatever it was, he didn’t ask it. Instead, he turned to the fairies.

  ‘Should you two be in Vanir?’ Gromp asked.

  Once their coats were on, Tick and Tock stared at Gromp confused.

  ‘The fire,’ explained Gromp.

  ‘That was at least three weeks ago,’ said Tick, with a wave of his hand.

  ‘I’m sure everyone has forgotten all about it,’ said Tock.

  ‘They haven’t,’ said Gromp with a smile. Then he moved over to the round table near his chair and pulled open a drawer hidden in the bottom of it. He grabbed something inside the drawer and handed it to Cora.

  Cora took it carefully. It was a worn piece of paper that had been folded many times and in many different ways. She opened it carefully. Sketched across the inside were roughly drawn lines and names of places. Lines for paths, rivers, mountains, all intersecting one another. It was a map. There were even small smiley faces and sad faces spread out across it. Cora guessed they weren’t supposed to go where the sad faces were.

  ‘Keep to the outer villages,’ said Gromp, pointing with his finger to a few of the places on the map.

  Cora noticed Bilg, Brolg and Broolg. She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  Suddenly, the room filled with a high-pitched sound. It was a voice, singing. ‘LAA LAA LAAAAAA!’

  Tick and Tock paused, eyebrows raised. Cora tilted her head. What was that?

  Then Gromp shifted his feet and shrugged, glancing down at his shoes. ‘They were half price.’