Small cottages and tiny shops sat on either side of the merman fountain. They were painted bright shades of pink, blue and green. In front of her, a round man with blue spots on his skin sat outside a shop playing a musical instrument with all three of his ears. A short, green woman with long, yellow hair that moved on its own handed out pamphlets about the dangers of the rising sea tide. And a man with no legs or arms slithered along the ground. Cora wondered if this is what King Clang had meant about the magical beings being different in the northern towns.
‘Look,’ said Tock with dismay.
Cora followed the fairy’s gaze and noticed a shop to her left that had a sign sitting out the front. PICKLED FISHTAILS. Then she saw the same sign sitting out the front of another shop a little further away. And a similar sign in the window of a shop up ahead, and by the door of another corner store. One sign Cora saw even read FICKLED PISHTAILS. She wondered if they were the same thing.
‘What is our new approach?’ asked Tock.
Cora wasn’t sure. The town of Brolg was much bigger than Bilg. And to be honest, she wasn’t even entirely sure what she was looking for. A clue? A feeling? She hoped she would know somehow if she was near other syphons. But all she felt was cold . . . and an odd wriggling feeling in her stomach. Her magic.
‘You should be able to feel others,’ said Tick.
‘I should?’ replied Cora.
‘Did you feel anything when we were in Bilg?’ asked Tock.
Cora thought back and shook her head.
‘All magical beings have a connection to their kind,’ said Tick. ‘We probably should have mentioned that earlier.’
‘Yes,’ said Cora, only slightly annoyed.
‘You will know it when you feel it,’ said Tock.
‘Ours feels like a hiccup,’ said Tick.
Cora nodded making sure to pay attention this time to any odd feelings, other than her magic.
The fairies flew off in the direction of a shop called SOUPER and Cora stepped further into the town. She passed a row of magical creatures. They each glided on a pair of tentacles, leaving a trail of bubbles behind them. Cora stepped over them carefully and almost bumped into a woman with one eye. The woman stared at her, surprised. Cora stared back. Unlike Cora’s eye, the woman’s eye was in the middle of her head. Her skin was tinged purple and she had large, painted red lips. The woman glanced at where Cora’s other eye was supposed to be. And then after a moment, the woman nodded and continued on her way.
Cora entered a busy shop to her left that had small cakes with glittering wings flapping up and down inside the shop window. The sweet smells of pastry, fruit and custard filled the shop. Cora breathed them in. The smell reminded her of the time she and Dot had baked an apple. They had traded it for an old pair of wool mittens and it had made their home smell delicious and sweet all day. Scratch had hated it.
Magical creatures waiting to be served stood huddled inside the shop, in front of a long white counter. Numbers were called out and the people in the crowd shot up their hands, which held red tickets. Then cakes and pastries zipped from the counter on glittering wings, over to the customers in the crowd.
Cora’s stomach grumbled. The smells swirling around the shop were delicious. Stretching up, Cora stood on her tiptoes, trying to see where she could get a ticket.
As she looked around, Cora spotted a young boy. He stood on the other side of the shop, by the door that customers exited. He was much younger than her, perhaps four or five years old. And he had red hair. It fell down long, past his ears. Could he be . . .
Suddenly, Cora’s magic jolted inside of her. It swirled around, filling her up like smoke in a chimney. Was this the feeling the fairies were talking about? Excitedly, Cora pushed through the crowd of hungry customers.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Sorry. Pardon me.’
A winged pastry hit her shoulder. ‘Sorry,’ she said to an angry customer. A blue cake slopped custard on her head. Then a chocolate pudding and a croissant flew by her so fast she had to duck out of its way. When she righted herself, Cora saw that the boy was gone.
She moved through the crowd faster, pushing past customers and dodging flying sweets. When she stumbled out of the door, half-covered in filling, her eyes searched for the redhaired boy amongst the throng in the crowded town.
Cora found him. She watched as the boy ran up to a man and a woman, both with matching long, red hair. He showed them something he held in his hand and the woman laughed. Then the man picked the boy up and sat him on his shoulders. The boy laughed as the man walked around unsteadily. Green tails poked out below the man’s, woman’s and child’s clothes.
Cora remembered what the fairies had said about feeling something when she was close to other syphons. She paused. She felt . . . nothing. Her hope fizzled out like a fire in the rain. They weren’t syphons. She stood watching the three of them for a moment. She couldn’t help the feeling of longing that uncurled itself from somewhere inside her. A family.
Then, sharply, something inside of her twisted beneath her skin. She could feel it moving upwards like rising water, searching for a way out. It definitely wasn’t the syphon feeling. It was her magic.
Cora breathed deeply. She pushed against the feeling, closing her eye, trying to shove the magic down. When Cora opened her eye again, her vision was blurry. She rubbed her eye but it didn’t clear it. She headed for the fountain in the centre of Brolg. When she reached it, she threw her hands on the fountain wall and concentrated on her breathing.
She closed her eye. In and out; in and out. She gulped in air. What was happening?
‘Are you okay?’ came a soft voice from next to her.
Chapter Thirteen
Cora hesitated. Someone was talking to her. Her hands were still clutching the fountain wall. She pushed against the magic that bubbled to the surface and when she felt it subside, she let go of the wall and turned around.
Cora expected to see someone standing next to her but there wasn’t anybody there. A man with gills either side of his neck sat on the fountain wall opposite her reading a newspaper. Cora looked at him questioningly. Did he say something to her? When the man noticed her staring at him, he stood up and walked away.
Cora was about to turn back around when she heard the small sound of someone politely clearing their throat. It came from below. Cora looked down.
Standing by her boot was a tiny, winged creature. She was so tiny Cora almost didn’t see her. The creature stood peering up at her, curiosity and worry on her tiny face. A pair of paper-thin wings lay still behind her.
What are you? Cora wondered.
‘Water nymph,’ said the tiny creature.
Cora straightened, eyes wide. Can water nymphs read minds?
‘No, we can’t,’ said the water nymph with a giggle.
Cora bent down. The water nymph had sparkling blue skin and bright blue eyes. Even her eyelashes and teeth sparkled. She was beautiful.
Cora held out her hand, and gracefully, the water nymph flittered onto her open palm.
‘I’m Merlsa,’ said the water nymph. Her voice was high and floated in the air like a song.
‘Cora,’ she replied.
‘You look lost,’ said Merlsa.
The water nymph wasn’t entirely wrong. Cora felt lost. What if their searching led them nowhere? What if she never found her family? What then? She shook her head free of the thoughts.
‘Do you live here?’ Cora asked.
Merlsa nodded. ‘I’m looking for someone,’ said Cora. ‘We get all kinds of someones in Brolg,’ said the water nymph. ‘Good ones . . . and bad ones.’
‘Bad ones?’ Cora echoed.
Merlsa stared at Cora unsure. ‘They come at night and head into the woods,’ she said. She pointed behind Cora. Below the clifftop town, on the horizon, Cora could see a dark patch of trees.
‘Hunters,’ Merlsa whispered.
Cora paused. ‘Syphon hunters?’ she asked softly. Then she remembered that she
wasn’t supposed to say the word syphon.
But Merlsa nodded.
‘What do they look like?’ Cora asked.
‘Big,’ said Merlsa. She stretched out her arms either side of her. ‘Mean.’
Then her eyes shifted to look at Cora’s eye. ‘What’s wrong with your eye?’ she asked.
‘Oh . . . I, ah, lost it,’ said Cora.
The water nymph shook her head. ‘Not that one,’ she said. She pointed to her other eye. ‘That one.’
Cora swallowed. What was wrong with her eye?
Then the water nymph grabbed Cora’s thumb. ‘If you are going to the woods,’ she said. The water nymph hesitated. ‘Be careful.’
Cora nodded.
And with a smile, Merlsa the water nymph flitted into the air and curtsied. Then she darted away in a sprinkling of water droplets.
Cora paused. The woods. That’s where they needed to go next. She stood up and searched the crowd for Tick and Tock. Then as a large ogre lumbered past her, something the water nymph had said made Cora stop. She turned and looked down, peering uncertainly at her reflection in the pool of bright blue water of the merman fountain. She stared back at herself and didn’t see anything unusual. Slowly, she bent further, looking closer at her reflection. And what she saw made her gasp. She shot up as panic crept over her skin like a slow, wet slug.
Her eye, the only one she had left, was somehow no longer a brilliant shade of emerald green. Instead, it was a dark, swirling . . . black.
Chapter Fourteen
Cora stared, inches away from the water, and watched in horror as black smoke swirled in her eye like a dark wave. Her eye was like Dot’s eyes in her dreams. The dreams with the voice. She pulled apart her eyelids with her fingertips for a closer look. Black. She blinked rapidly, trying to make it disappear. She looked again. Black. Then Cora reached down and grabbed a handful of water from the fountain and splashed it on her eye. She waited and looked down into the pool of water. Black. Her stomach churned with unease. What was happening to her?
Cora rubbed her eye roughly with her palm. ‘Go away,’ she pleaded.
‘How rude,’ said a voice from behind her.
Cora froze. It was Tick and Tock.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Tock.
‘Are you thirsty?’ asked Tick.
Cora waited. She wasn’t sure what for. She knew she had to turn around eventually. All she could do was hope that her eye was back to normal.
Slowly, Cora turned to face Tick and Tock. The fairies flittered in the air, curious looks on their faces.
‘Yes, I, uh, just needed to wash my face,’ Cora said. She held her breath, waiting for the fairies to notice her eye as they studied her face, but as seconds passed, the fairies said nothing.
‘We have information,’ said Tock, smiling.
With a POP! of magic, Tick had his notepad and pen in his hands, and a pair of half-moon glasses across his nose. The fairy flipped through the pages.
‘Bloris the dwarf is not happy with the loudness of the fireworks that happen at Brolgfest,’ said Tick.
‘Fireworks can be very loud,’ said Tock.
‘Seru the shopkeeper of SWEET SEA TREATS has had to increase his prices across the board.’
‘We are not sure exactly which board but one of them,’ said Tock.
‘Nert the ogre has started a petition for the woods to be moved as lately he has been hearing a ruckus and can’t sleep,’ said Tick.
‘Sleep is important for ogres,’ said Tock.
‘And fickled pishtails are exactly the same as pickled fishtails,’ said Tick, grimacing.
‘We accidentally found that one out ourselves,’ said Tock.
Cora nodded. The information that the fairies had gathered wasn’t exactly what she was hoping for.
‘That’s all?’ Cora asked.
The fairies nodded, proud of themselves.
‘What about you?’ Tick asked.
‘Did you feel anything?’ asked Tock. ‘See anyone syphon-looking?’
Cora thought of the boy and his family. She shook her head, dismayed. Then she realised what the fairies had said. ‘Wait a minute. What did you say about the woods?’
Tick looked down at his notepad. ‘Nert is petitioning for them to be moved.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Tock. ‘But only with a coven of witches.’
‘No, not that,’ Cora said her mind whirring. ‘Hunters? In the woods?’
Tock nodded.
‘A ruckus is a metal human,’ said Tick, moving his arms up and down sharply.
Tock shook his head at Tick. ‘That’s a robot.’
‘Oh,’ said Tick, continuing to move his arms up and down sharply.
Quickly, Cora pulled out her map. If there were hunters in the woods . . . did that also mean there were also syphons? She traced her finger from the word Brolg to an area marked with a cluster of small green triangles. If they left now, they could reach the woods by nightfall. Her heart quickened.
‘A water nymph told me that she saw syphon hunters go into the woods,’ said Cora. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, stepping away from the fountain. The thought of a syphon being so close was all that filled Cora’s mind. In long strides, she walked along the row of shops where a man with a purple beard juggled small, shrieking plants. Suddenly, telling Tick and Tock about her dreams and her eye didn’t seem so important.
‘Cora, wait,’ said Tock. The fairies fluttered after her.
‘We should definitely stay away from the woods,’ Tick said.
Then Tick and Tock flew in front of her so that she had to stop walking.
‘Cora, you’re a syphon,’ Tock whispered.
‘I know that,’ said Cora.
‘So we need to avoid syphon hunters, not chase them into the woods,’ said Tick.
‘Where there are hunters there could be syphons,’ said Cora, stepping around the fairies.
The fairies flew in front of her again.
‘Hunters aren’t gremlins,’ said Tick. ‘They’re smart.’
‘And less slobbery,’ added Tock.
‘And there will be traps,’ said Tick.
Cora remembered the mark on Gromp’s leg. She hesitated, and then stepped around the fairies once more.
‘Can’t we go around the woods instead?’ Tick asked.
‘Cora, wait,’ said Tock.
Cora stopped. ‘I saw someone,’ she said softly. ‘A boy. At first I thought he was . . . I thought my magic pulled me to him. He had red hair. He had . . . a family, and I . . .’ she faltered.
Tick and Tock looked at each other.
‘If my family is out there . . .’
The fairies sighed.
‘Fine,’ said Tock. ‘But at the first sign of hunters we’re leaving.’
Cora nodded.
‘Pinky stare,’ said Tick, holding out his pinky.
Cora grabbed it with hers. ‘Pinky stare.’
‘Which way are the woods?’ asked Tock.
Cora led the fairies out of the town of Brolg and down the road they came up. They headed east along the path, straight for the woods. As the sun dropped lower and lower in the sky, and they got closer and closer to the darkening woods ahead, nerves flittered in Cora’s stomach. Was she doing the right thing? Was chasing syphon hunters the answer to finding her family? She pushed against the nerves, and truly hoped that she wasn’t leading her friends into danger.
Chapter Fifteen
The faint outline of a wispy white moon peeked down at Cora between the overhanging tree leaves. They had been searching the woods for hours and so far they’d found nothing but an empty chocolate bar wrapper and a pink ribbon that Tick had happily tied in his hair.
The woods weren’t like the forest that surrounded The Hollow. The trees were sparse and not bursting with bright, beautiful, lush greenery. There weren’t any shrubs or gnarled oak trunks. The trees were narrow and there weren’t many places to hide or go unseen. And instead of the sound of birds a
nd soft wind chimes, the woods emitted sounds of croaking insects, and the ominous rustle of wings from somewhere above them.
Cora felt tiredness tug at her eyes and weigh down her feet as her boots crunched atop the dry leaves on the ground. Tick and Tock were so exhausted that they had begun to explore the woods a little too thoroughly.
‘They’re not under this one,’ said Tick, putting down a large stone and yawning loudly. He picked up another. ‘Or this one.’
‘And they’re not in this tree,’ said Tock, flying down to the ground wearily. ‘Or that one.’
All the trees had started to look the same to Cora. She wasn’t one hundred per cent sure they weren’t going around in circles. The wind had picked up and it blew coldly over the three of them. Cora pulled Gromp’s furry coat tighter. She felt her magic roll around. It slithered and stretched uncomfortably beneath her skin.
‘If I was a syphon,’ began Tick, stroking his chin in thought, ‘where would I be?’
‘In a bed,’ said Tock. He closed his eyes and lay down in the air, his wings fluttering lazily.
Cora turned to her left and something in the distance made her stop. She stared out into the dark woods. Something had moved; she was sure of it. She waited. And then she saw it again, a flicker of light up ahead through the trees. She stepped forward.
‘Cora?’ came Tick’s voice from behind her. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Is she sleepwalking?’ Tick asked Tock.
‘She isn’t asleep,’ said Tock. ‘At least, I don’t think she is.’
Cora moved past the trees, towards the light. The warlock magic tossed and sizzled, curling away. She tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the light ahead. Was this what Tick and Tock meant? Was this the feeling? Her heart quickened at the thought of what could lie on the other side of the trees in front of her.
Havoc!: The Untold Magic of Cora Bell Page 5