by Edrei Cullen
Ella, you have empathy and an ability to understand others’ shadows that I never witnessed in all my years at Hedgeberry. I haven’t had much to do with Magic since I married your father for he is pure human and I just want to live a normal life with him but I doubt any Flitterwig has your gift. Your father is the kindest man I have ever known and you seem to share with him an uncanny compassion. I believe it was this very humanity you inherited from him, coupled with your magicality that gave me the ability to push aside what was holding me back.
Whatever powers you may discover in yourself, please remember this must be the most potent of them all. Everything in life is connected, Ella. There are no coincidences.
I am proud of you darling and I love you with all my heart. I must trust that you will heed what I tell you and believe a mother’s instincts.
Always,
Your loving Ma
Ella stared at the letter. She laid it in her lap and sat staring into space. Fat, crystalline tears rolled down her face. Dixon gathered them silently and slipped them in his backpack. Samantha sat down next to her on the sofa.
‘Your dad’s coming along so well,’ she said mildly, in an attempt to soothe her hurting friend.
‘Or rather,’ said Humphrey, putting a hand on Ella’s shoulder, ‘Samantha’s pestered him so much, he hasn’t had any choice.’
Ella tried to smile.
‘Well I hope I’ve helped him a little to find himself again, that’s all,’ said Samantha. ‘He’s clearly suffering from a deep sadness himself and it’s terribly painful to see. But we’re working on making it better.’
Ella patted her friends’ hands. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
Outside the wind roared and the flames grew. The trees ached against the flames and the stately school of Hedgeberry seemed to sway on its foundations.
Charlie sat down on Ella’s other side. She passed him the letter. He read it quickly.
‘But Ella,’ he said, taking both her hands in his gently and looking her straight in the face. ‘That’s the power you have to unleash. The answer’s right here. Your mother’s just answered our questions. Don’t you see?’
Ella nodded vaguely. ‘I suppose so,’ she said.
Indeed it seemed her mother’s words had come to her at just the right moment. Why then, she wondered, did she feel like hanging her head and crying?
chapter 18
extremes & extrapolations
‘WHERE IS SHE?’ the Duke demanded in a voice as dark as a storm cloud. ‘WHERE IS THE CLEARHEART?’
‘She… um… well… she was at Hedgeberry,’ said Saul, tentatively. ‘But we’re not sure exactly where she is at the moment.’
‘How is that possible?’ asked the Duke.
‘The areas where Scatterbungle has taken its stronghold is making it impossible for us to find anything there,’ said Ulnus.
‘MORE SCATTERBUNGLE THEN!’ the Duke hollered out into the ocean at the top of his lungs. ‘I said, MORE! NOW! That will lure her out from wherever she is hiding.’
It was late and Coco the tugboat bobbed up and down in the inky sea under a star spangled sky, like a black cherry in a bathtub.
‘That doesn’t make any sense, Your Majesty. More of the gas could have dire consequences,’ said Saul. ‘More could have a similar effect on the Flitterwigs to Trogglitis on Magicals,’ he said. ‘They could become violent. They could start to fall apart like the Troggles do. It may even kill them.’
‘SO BE IT!’ screamed the Duke, the veins beneath his face pulsating violently. He WOULD NOT be thwarted this time.
He had thought the Clearhearted Flitterwig would be so much more compliant, so much more helpful with his plan to take machinery and weaponry back to Magus in order to overthrow his wife, the Queen. He really did not understand why the whole project was always so accursedly difficult. It was that girl! That Clearheart! For three years now, he had always managed to underestimate her.
But he would not fail this time. Oh no. He would overthrow Magus. This time he would be as cruel, as violent, and as cunning in his capturing of Ella Montgomery as he needed to be. Even if it meant destroying an entire race in the process. He had something that he knew would force her to lure the Dewdrops back to Earth in order to Shrinkify his weaponry. She would fulfil his every wish. He had the key to her heart, which was a precious commodity indeed, and he knew that was the Clearheart’s weakness.
If only he could find her.
Saul looked at Ulnus and Ulnus looked back at Saul. They were Flitterwigs themselves. By suggesting more Scatterbungle, the Duke was suggesting the potential genocide of their own race!
Ragwald, the Duke’s Goblin Protector, hung his tiny head in shame and his pepper pot frame sagged. He wanted to go home. The little goblin looked up at his Stretchified Protectee, twisted and pulled beyond recognition, and felt filled with failure. His destiny was to protect the Elf Duke, to loyally keep him out of harm’s way. But the Duke was determined to cause destruction.
Ragwald stifled a groan. He knew why the Clearheart would obey this time. He knew Magus was doomed. And Ragwald was, by association, an accomplice. He shook his head. He was in a miserable position.
The Duke and Saul and Ulnus were deep in discussion.
‘Fine,’ said Ulnus reluctantly. ‘We will dispatch twenty more Troggles with twenty more sacks of Scatterbungle. But no more! It is too dangerous. We cannot be sure what the full side effects will be. My wife has at least eighty Magicals still captured and Trogglified from your original troops. She has another ten or so she has caught over the past months. We will send five to the Rooniun to ensure complete Scatterbunglement there. And we can only hope that the Scatterbungle released at Don Posiblemente’s will keep him, Wheelbarrow and Samuel out of action. I sent extra doses there with Samuel.’
The Duke tore at his moulting hair. ‘HEDGEBERRY! I WANT THE TROGGLES TO GO TO HEDGEBERRY!’ he screamed. ‘I WANT THOSE YOUNG FLITTERWIGS BUNGLED, SCATTERED, BETTER STILL, DESTROYED!’
Saul scratched a floppy ear. Everyone at Hedgeberry was already Scatterbungled. The plan had been to create chaos, not complete devastation. The effect of more Scatterbungle on Hedgeberry would almost certainly prove fatal.
‘It is time to set up headquarters at your estate, Ulnus,’ the Duke declared, settling himself on the prow of the boat. ‘Set sail for land. England, here we come! I’ve had enough of waiting around.’
chapter 19
roots & realisations
Thomas the Giant, Lord of Gommoronahl, struggled against the thick, gnarled roots of the trees that bound his massive wrists and ankles against the wall of his cousin Arnold’s prison. He was trapped in a cavernous opening dug out underground. It was hard to breathe in the muggy air, for Giants usually live in soil. Thomas’s brother Bolgus, less smart than himself, had been struggling so brutally against the mighty shackles that he was totally tangled up. He lay in a pool of sweat, exhausted. His nest of red hair dripped as he smacked his gargantuan head against the rocky wall in frustration.
‘I cannot believe we are battling to free ourselves from the very roots that feed us,’ Thomas roared, struggling to keep his eyes open (for Giants are sleepy at the best of times). His beanie had slipped over his head and was hanging right over the top of his great, squishy nose. ‘We have been horribly betrayed,’ he rumbled, through his craggy teeth and big, round lips. He growled and thrashed his huge body against the roots that wrapped his wrists. The roots, thick as the ropes that hold cargo ships, whispered their apologies but they had no choice. Dryad Flitterwigs command the trees and the roots had been instructed to wind their way through the soil and pin Thomas and Bolgus down by just such a Flitterwig.
Thomas roared with frustration. He pulled violently against the manacles again, fighting sleep for all he was worth. How had he been so easily tricked?
There had been a message, via the whisperings of a Spirit Tree, telling him that Ella Montgomery’s family was in danger. Trees cannot lie, so he had trav
elled at once to the source of the message, his cousin Arnold’s home. It had taken him and his brother many weeks to get there, and they were weary with the trek through Earth’s boiling core.
He had barely shaken his cousin’s hand in greeting and kissed Arnold’s wife Mabel’s warty cheek when the first tumorous growth reached out and wrapped itself about his chest while another pinned his neck against the rocks. He had looked to his left and realised his brother was also trapped. Arnold had laughed as he watched the two Giants struggle. And then he and his wife had turned and left them behind, without even an explanation as to why they had been deceived so.
Thomas’s slowing mind tried to figure out how the trees could have lied to him. It was a Natural impossibility. But they had. Oh gosh, he was tired. And he was hungry. The supple, winding roots holding his left arm dripped Sap. But he rejected their offer, disgusted. He let his eyes fall shut. In seconds a snore that sounded like buffaloes stampeding burst out of his nose, compelling his brother Bolgus, to stick his barrel of a thumb in his mouth and fall asleep too. It is so infectious the snore of a giant. Human folk, passing across the overhead bridge in their cars, felt quite exhausted themselves that afternoon.
And so the two Giants slept, their gargantuan bodies heaving in the pit under the ground, their lungs struggling for breath. And as they slept, Thomas’s dreams filled with images of fires and keys and demented students in a place he did not know, as if someone close by was tapping into his almighty slumber.
Ella’s Flitterwig headquarters in Wheelbarrow’s office at Hedgeberry was a hive of activity. For there simply wasn’t time for grief today. Ella knew that, even though it had taken Dixon straddling her nose and staring her in the eye to make her set her sadness aside.
‘Get it together, feather,’ he’d said to her, staring at her, big eye to small eye, feet resting on her bottom lip for balance, his hands wrapped about her cheeks. ‘I love you and I’m sorry you’re sad, lad. But we have Flitterwigs to save. Rhymes with rave.’
The carpet was awash with papers and notes. But together, the group (minus Max) really thought they had a plan. And it all began with what Wrinkles had written in his letter to Ella: Do not forget the lessons of the Sacred Dewdrops for therein lies the essence of pure magic.
Ella had had to think right back to three years ago, when she first discovered she was a Flitterwig, and what she had learned in order to gain the Sacred Dewdrops’ trust.
She had learned to believe in her dreams, to want things for herself, to trust that Nature would come to her aid, to forgive and to love selflessly.
These were the five skills that had made the Dewdrops trust her. The essence of pure magic. Dreaming, wishing, trusting, forgiving and loving. There were five skills, five Flitterwigs in the team so far and five Keys. Ella figured she didn’t need one herself as the Keys repelled themselves from her, so someone was missing. Who needed to take up the final Key? They didn’t know yet but they trusted that Magic would guide them in the right direction. As Ella’s mother had written, ‘there are no coincidences’, and in that, they had to believe.
The Flitterwigs had also examined the copied papers from the Flitterwig Files that Don Posiblemente had given Charlie very, very carefully indeed. It had taken Charlie and Ella and Humphrey and Samantha (with a lot of interference from Dixon), quite a while to suss out what the words really meant. They weren’t written in a way that was easy to understand. In fact, they couldn’t have been written more secretively if they’d tried! But between Mrs Montgomery’s diaries and their combined brains, they thought they’d figured it out.
There was something about a well, a bunch of coordinates and something about ‘drawing forth true magic’ from it. They knew they needed to bring forth a fountain of cleansing water to wash away the Scatterbungle (Don Posibilemente had told them that) and now they guessed it had to come from a well at the source of those coordinates. Charlie was willing to bet his life that they were the same as the address in Mrs Montgomery’s diaries–the same place where her car had plunged into the valley.
Wrinkles had reminded them that true magic was found in the essence of the Sacred Dewdrops, so what they needed to figure out now, was which element of magic belonged to which Flitterwig.
Max had to be linked to ‘dreaming’ they decided. That was too obvious for words. He was a Salamander. That’s what they did.
‘While we figure out what part of magic the rest of us best represent,’ Charlie said, fully taking charge now, ‘you need to go and find Max, Ella. ‘I think he went to try to get into the Library of Memories to find the memories your mother stored there. And I think he needs your help to do it.’ He put his hands on his hips. ‘So,’ he said confidently. ‘Give it a crack. Let’s see how you can help Max. Let’s see what you’re made of!’
Ella grinned at him shyly. Charlie was the best Protector ever.
But where was Max? He certainly wasn’t in the Library of Memories, that’s for sure, because this is what happened:
Ella snuck out of the office. It was a horror story outside. The floor beneath her was straining and bending. The walls had turned black. While the building wasn’t burning, it seemed like every part of it was reacting and straining against the flames outside. Keeping to the shadows, Ella made her way into the loggia. It took all of her will to keep going.
Flitterwigs rolled in the corridors and moaned in confusion as they wandered aimlessly in circles. The trees surrounding the school grounds swayed wildly, their branches straining against the fires that rolled across the lawns.
‘Pssst,’ she heard. It was Max, hiding, crouched behind the homework lockers.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked him, helping him up.
‘The fires,’ he said staring wildly outside. He pointed at Mrs Howzatful outside the window, twirling in the wind near the courtyard fountain. She was dodging flames, dancing about like a tribal warrior, trying and failing to quench them. As Ella watched, another fire, then another, sprung up about the teacher, licking at her heels like hungry wolverines.
‘Wait here,’ Ella told Max. Max looked at her dumbfounded. He couldn’t move!
She stepped outside. The wind whipped the breath right out of her. The dusty orange sky was intensifying and darkening. She put her hand up to stop her hair whipping her face as tiny fires flashed up about her feet. She unfurled her wings and beat them, lifting her into the air to dodge the heat.
Ella approached Mrs Howzatful.
‘Hello Mrs H,’ she said, politely. Mrs Howzatful turned. Eyeing Ella suspiciously, she backed away. ‘It’s me, Ella,’ said Ella, putting her hands out to steady the teacher.
Mrs Howzatful jumped to avoid them. ‘I-I-I-I don’t know who you are,’ she said, her elegant nose scrunching up terribly as she tried to get her memory to work. ‘Get away from me!’
Ella flew forward and clutched her teacher by the arms. As soon as Mrs Howzatful felt her touch, she calmed. Settled, but still dazed and confused, Ella drew her into the loggia.
‘Oh Max,’ Mrs Howzatful cried out, ‘my best student!’
Dixon popped his head out of the top of Ella’s dungaree pocket. Max was her worst student! ‘Cuckoo-la-la!’ Dixon called out, just in case Ella and Max hadn’t noticed. And then he noticed the mayhem and disaster about him. The glass in the windows of the loggia rattled alarmingly. Sobbing and clutching at his face, he tucked himself back into Ella’s pocket.
Ella squeezed her eyes shut, popped out a Ponkalucka and wished Mrs Howzatful to be still for a few minutes. She turned to Max. She could feel the magic inside her rising. If her mother was right, if she really could understand others’ shadows, draw out of people their broken strengths, then that is what she would try to do.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I have to try something on you now Max. I need you to think up your worst fears and where they come from and then I need you to take my hands. I need to know what you want the most,’ she said.
Max tried his best to do as Ella was asking.
‘I wish I wasn’t afraid of fire,’ he replied.
Ella tried to gather her wits about her. She felt nervous. She blocked out the sound of wailing echoing through the halls of her school. She blocked out the burning magical flames. She moved closer to Max, wishing he didn’t radiate quite so much heat.
The thought of her mother’s words made her feel more certain. She could feel a core of magic build inside her. Ella’s eyes began to shine.
Max stood up straighter. She looked him square in the eye and he froze to the spot.
He wanted to ask questions, but was completely mesmerised by the Elven Flitterwig’s eyes. Ella took Max’s hands in hers and his nerves dissolved.
A kind of electric-bolt shock went from Max through her and her eyes snapped shut. And in an instant, she was being shot, like a bullet, through a field of memories that completely weren’t her own. They were Max’s.
She came to a standstill in front of one. A group of human children taunted Max, standing outside a bakery somewhere. They pointed at his languorous red curls and laughed.
Ella was suddenly whisked to another memory.
Inside a living room the most gorgeous Salamander Flitterwig she’d ever seen sat on a sofa wringing his hands. His partner, an equally stunning Salamander sat next to him. ‘Don’t worry,’ she was saying. ‘He’s just a little slower than the others. He’ll get there.’ Outside the room, a younger Max listened sadly.
And that was it. Ella’s eyes shot open. She took a breath. The clearest parts of her heart swelled softly.
‘It’s okay,’ she said certainly. ‘The fact that you were laughed at for being different, or that your parents didn’t quite believe in you, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t believe in yourself.’ She squeezed his hands before letting them go. ‘You’ll be fine now, I promise. You’re a Salamander. You’re made to master fires and dreams. Believe in your dreams. They are your gifts.’