The Doomspell

by Cliff McNish

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Eric, looking bewildered.

  ‘Someone must have told you,’ said Trimak.

  Eric shrugged. ‘I’ve never heard the words before. They just came into my head.’

  Morpeth looked expectantly at Rachel.

  ‘I don’t recognize them at all,’ she said. ‘The words are so . . . strange. What do they mean?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Morpeth said bitterly. ‘Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything. Your hair is dark, your powers beyond anything we’ve seen before. We hoped you would know what they meant.’

  ‘I know what some of it means,’ Eric said.

  ‘Tell us,’ breathed Trimak.

  Eric appeared almost bashful, as if the words held him in awe.

  ‘Enemies to set free,’ Rachel whispered. ‘Are we the enemies?’

  ‘No,’ said Eric. ‘Neutrana.’

  Morpeth trembled. ‘What about the last part of the verse? What or who will arise from sleep and dawn-bright sea? Do you know?’

  Eric’s face lit up. In a purely childlike way Rachel had not seen in him since he was a young boy he flapped his arms. ‘Whoosh!’ he crooned, running in circles around the cave. ‘Whoosh! Whoosh!’

  Everyone watched Eric in fascination. Eventually he calmed down and came back, looking sheepish.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Rachel asked. ‘Were you supposed to be flying?’

  ‘No,’ Eric said. ‘I mean – yes, I might have been. Oh, I don’t know!’

  ‘What does sing in harmony mean?’ Morpeth asked.

  ‘Beats me,’ Eric muttered, looking uncomfortable under their stares.

  ‘Beats me?’ Rachel said. ‘Come on, Eric, you’re not taking this seriously.’

  ‘Yes, I am!’

  ‘Be honest,’ she said. ‘Did someone tell you this verse before? Better let me know quick if you’re faking it.’

  ‘I’m not faking it!’

  Rachel sat down until her eyes were on a level with his. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I believe you. Think a minute. In my dream the Wizard Larpskendya told Dragwena his song will always be on Ithrea. Do you know what that means?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Eric said angrily. ‘Stop getting at me.’

  Rachel turned in frustration to Morpeth. ‘I suppose you think I’m the one to free everyone. You think I’m your precious child-hope. Are all your hopes about me based on this little verse? A few lines about a dark child?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Morpeth. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But the words of the verse . . . well, they could mean almost anything!’

  Morpeth grinned. Wrinkles deep enough to snuggle inside appeared under his eyes and criss-crossed his sunken cheeks. ‘Don’t you understand?’ he cried. ‘Until now they could have meant anything. But Eric knows the words! Apart from myself, the only contact he’s had on Ithrea is with Dragwena – and I’m sure the Witch would never have put these ideas into his head.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ Eric whispered.

  ‘Of the verse?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘No. I’m scared of Dragwena.’ He murmured this. Rachel knew how hard it was for him to admit it, especially in front of Morpeth and Trimak.

  ‘So am I,’ Rachel said. ‘But I’m sick of being scared of her, aren’t you?’

  Eric nodded fervently.

  Rachel turned to Morpeth and Trimak. ‘I’m not sure if this verse means anything,’ she said. ‘But I bet Dragwena already knows we’ve been kidnapped. We can’t have much time before she finds us. You told me that if I learned some new spells I might be able to fight her.’

  ‘We’ll begin your training at once,’ said Morpeth. ‘Eric can stay with Trimak.’

  ‘No,’ Rachel said. ‘Eric and I stay together.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous,’ warned Trimak. ‘Dragwena will use him as a weapon against you.’

  ‘I won’t do anything unless you agree,’ Rachel said flatly.

  ‘It’s too risky,’ said Morpeth. ‘We can protect Eric better if you are separated.’

  ‘You have no idea how to protect him,’ Rachel said. ‘Stop pretending you do. I can probably take care of Eric better than all the Sarren. You should know that by now.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Morpeth gloomily. ‘Follow me.’

  11

  Magic

  Morpeth led Rachel and Eric from Worraft. For some time they shuffled in silence under a low ceiling of cold corridors. As Morpeth padded along, red doors winked alight ahead of his footsteps, extinguishing the moment he passed. Occasionally he took them through one of the red doors. Each door always led to another almost identical corridor and more doors, in a seemingly endless series of upward sharp bends.

  Rachel felt dizzy. ‘How do you know the way?’

  ‘Magic. This was built many years ago, the secret labour of a few Sarren. Dragwena knows nothing of it. You are the first children to come here.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Eric, gazing round intently.

  ‘To my study.’ Morpeth stopped outside a door which looked like all the others. ‘Now do you think you can remember how to find your way here from Worraft?’

  Rachel looked at Eric and they both shook their heads. ‘Good,’ said Morpeth. ‘Only a special kind of magic can guide you this way again.’

  ‘Could the Witch find us?’ Rachel said.

  ‘In time she could. She would have to find Worraft first. There is no other way in here, and Dragwena does not even know about the cave. At least, I hope not.’

  He blew on the door three times to open it and ushered the children inside.

  Morpeth’s ‘study’ was nothing more than a cramped oblong room, with a simple bed, a table and a single chair.

  ‘What can you do to help me fight the Witch?’ Rachel asked Morpeth. ‘You know so many spells, and—’

  ‘Me?’ He laughed. ‘I nearly collapsed just trying to keep up with you at breakfast!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you remember those fish earrings? I had to use all of my power to alter their colour!’

  Rachel gasped. ‘I wondered why they kept changing!’

  ‘You also played snakes and ladders against Dragwena and won. All children who have taken that test have failed: every one of them.’ He put his hands on Rachel’s shoulders. ‘You are the child-hope. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘But how can I defeat the Witch? What do I have to do?’

  ‘You need to learn some new spells,’ Morpeth said. ‘You also need to practise. Dragwena has practised for centuries. When she commands, she is instantly obeyed. She can change shape in a moment.’

  ‘But it’s hard to change shape,’ Rachel said dejectedly. ‘I only did it because I was scared. What do I have to become to defeat Dragwena?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Morpeth.

  Rachel stared at him. ‘I can’t believe it. You expect me to know!’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘let’s not worry about confronting Dragwena for now. One step at a time. Will you play a magic game with me?’

  Rachel sighed, recalling the sheer joy of making magic in the Breakfast Room, smashing melons into walls. Magic no longer seemed like a game.

  Eric parked himself comfortably on Morpeth’s bed and watched.

  ‘I want you to try changing your shape again,’ Morpeth said. ‘What would be a clever disguise on Ithrea?’

  ‘A snowflake,’ Rachel answered at once. She quickly pictured herself as a snowflake drifting in the air. ‘Well?’

  ‘Same skinny legs as always,’ said Eric.

  ‘Don’t be concerned,’ Morpeth told her. ‘It’s much harder than you think. When we played in the Breakfast Room and rode over the mountains Dragwena put a special blanket of magic around us. But you soon began using your own magic. When you flew to the lake and changed into the feather, the Witch’s magic didn’t help you. You did those things yourself. You can do that here, now, but you must concentrate fully. Using real magic is extremely dangerous and requires all your
attention.’

  Rachel glanced around the room. ‘Can I try to be something different? I don’t really want to be a snowflake. I’d rather be a horse – or something that’s alive.’

  ‘A horse, however lovely, would hardly fit into this study,’ said Morpeth drily. ‘I want you to fight against the desire to become just anything. You need to be more disciplined in your use of power.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘When you changed into a feather it saved your life,’ he explained. ‘You see, it is because you became what you needed to be, what you had to be at that instant. Dragwena will give you little chance to think when she attacks. You may be able to save us all if you can, at the moment of danger, change into the right thing, whatever that is. Now try to concentrate.’

  Rachel forced herself to relax, to focus on the snowflake image. She ran fingers of ice over her body, colder, colder, until her brittle eyelids froze against the pupils. Shape next. Skin folding, bones condensing, until she shrunk to the size of a palm, then a finger, a thumbnail; then smaller still, so tiny she would hardly be noticed. She made her limbs and head disappear. She made her body fluffy and white, with sharp crystalline edges. It took an enormous effort, but for the first time Rachel was conscious that instead of instinctively reacting she could control the transformation herself. She blinked, opening her new snow eyes.

  Morpeth and Eric had disappeared – at least Rachel thought so, before realizing she had been slowly drifting alongside Morpeth’s trousers for several seconds. She landed gently on the floor. Hardness and dust pressed harshly against her. A few feet away Eric’s giant shoe stepped back.

  Before Rachel even had time to grow used to her snowflake-ness she noticed a pool of water surrounding her body. Am I bleeding? she wondered. Suddenly she understood: I’m not bleeding. I’m melting. I’m melting on the floor!

  The next moment she had changed again: she was a drop of water.

  Little currents of liquid lapped inside her new body from one side to the other.

  Mm, she mused, no longer frightened, merely curious. A drop of water would be more interesting if she could . . . take off . . . like a plane!

  Instantly she jerked from the floor, flying slowly at first, but speeding up as she learnt how to use her new wing-flaps. She hovered in mid air, gazing about. A few feet away Morpeth’s nose loomed, as big as a bus. Rachel zoomed three fast circles over his head, then darted into Eric’s ear, out again and over his cheeks, through his blond curls, onto his nose. A slide! She skied down the bridge of his nose and hung at the tip, swinging backwards and forwards. Looking up, she saw Eric’s huge face gazing down from crossed eyes. Rachel flipped herself into a dive.

  I’ll allow myself to fall, she thought. I can’t hurt myself. I’m just a splodge of water . . .

  Her little body exploded as it hit the stone, splitting into hundreds of tiny water droplets that leapt away from the rest of her body. Panicking, Rachel tried to imagine herself as a girl again . . .

  A deep voice – Morpeth’s – blasted, ‘No! Stay as you are!’

  Rachel waited anxiously. A moment later her tongue flew into the air. She watched her legs shoot upwards and wriggled her nose, a girl again.

  ‘That was fantastic!’ Rachel said. ‘Can we do it again?’

  Morpeth glared at her. ‘You stupid girl,’ he roared. ‘Do you know what would have happened if you had changed back when you were scattered all over the floor?’

  ‘I—’

  He gripped her arm. ‘I’ll tell you what would have happened: you would have come back as a girl in pieces! Your arms, legs and head would have been all over the room. You would be dead!’

  ‘I’m – I’m sorry,’ said Rachel. ‘I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me.’

  Morpeth sighed heavily. ‘You see, when you change into another form you really become it.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Think of a lizard. If you changed yourself into a lizard someone could chop off your tail and you could still crawl around, couldn’t you?’

  Rachel nodded.

  ‘But if you changed back you might find one of your legs missing.’ He grinned. ‘I think I prefer girls with two legs, don’t you?’

  Rachel stared at the floor. ‘I’ll try to remember.’

  ‘Good.’ Morpeth flapped his arms. ‘What a magnificent creature you became! I felt dizzy watching you shoot about.’

  Rachel pointed at his face. ‘What a big nose you have!’

  Morpeth rubbed his thick nose playfully. ‘I dread to think how big it must appear to a drop of water! Let’s play some more.’

  ‘First, why couldn’t I change back to being me again?’

  ‘It is much harder to change back to your real self,’ Morpeth explained. ‘I don’t know why. Only Dragwena is able to do it. However, when I saw you scattered all over the floor I sensed you might try.’

  ‘You can change me back. You’ve done it twice now.’

  ‘It’s a gift from the Witch,’ Morpeth said. ‘Dragwena is always concerned there are enemies hiding inside everyday shapes like trees or birds or wolves. She gave me the power centuries ago to unchange things – to change them back to their true form. Until I reversed you back from the feather I did not know I could do it.’

  ‘Why can’t you change yourself into a feather or a snowflake?’

  ‘That is a gift only you and Dragwena share,’ Morpeth replied. ‘You are the first child to have shape-shifted.’ He gazed wistfully at her. ‘You are the first to have done many things.’

  ‘Maybe I’m a Witch,’ Rachel said anxiously.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Or, if you are a Witch, you are a very nice one.’

  Eric lay down on Morpeth’s bed and snuggled the pillow.

  ‘Can I have a nap?’ he asked, yawning. ‘I’m really tired.’

  ‘How can you be tired after what you’ve just seen?’ said Morpeth. He looked puzzled, then relaxed again. ‘I’m forgetting what a long night you had. Of course you can. I will wake—’

  But Eric had already nodded off.

  Once they were sure Eric was asleep, Rachel whispered to Morpeth: ‘What will we do next?’

  ‘Why not try being something more solid this time?’ Morpeth said. He looked around the room. ‘This place is a little bare, in my view. How about some more furniture?’

  With a grin Rachel instantly transformed herself into a high-backed chair, with carved wooden legs.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ Morpeth asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she tried to reply, finding her mouth inside the wooden frame. She brought her lips onto the cushion, and placed her eyes above them. ‘I can hear you perfectly!’

  ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘A chair that can talk. Whatever next?’

  ‘A table!’

  She lengthened her legs, made the cushion disappear, and transformed the seat into a big flat top.

  ‘Hi,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Quite clever,’ Morpeth said. ‘Let’s put you to a real test. Can you imagine you are me?’

  ‘What? You mean make myself look like you?’

  Morpeth nodded.

  ‘I’ll try,’ said the little lips on the table.

  Rachel observed Morpeth carefully, studying everything about him: his long arms, the flat bulbous line of his nose, the ancient sunken cheeks. She examined his leather clothes, trying to work out what the old garments must feel like to wear.

  ‘Well?’ she asked, rushing to finish.

  ‘See for yourself,’ said Morpeth, pointing to a small mirror on the wall.

  Rachel dashed across expectantly. The creature staring back was a mess. The clothes were accurate, but Morpeth’s beard was only half made and she had not even remembered to change his hair or square jaw. What looked back from the mirror was a crude Morpeth, with long dark hair and a pointed chin like her own.

  She laughed – and realized Morpeth also had her small even teeth.

 
‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I’m a sort of Rachel-Morpeth thing.’

  The voice was also her high-pitched own. She had forgotten to change that as well.

  ‘Mm,’ Morpeth said. ‘It’s much harder to imagine being a person, isn’t it? Tables and chairs don’t have voices or teeth. You have to think carefully and remember everything about people, even the things you cannot see.’

  ‘At least I got your nose right,’ Rachel said, pressing it.

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Morpeth. ‘Your nose is much too big.’

  Rachel checked in the mirror. ‘No,’ she said, twitching it. ‘I think the nose is just like yours. It’s exactly the right size.’

  Morpeth frowned. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

  ‘Should I make the nose smaller? Would you like that?’

  ‘Isn’t it perfect already?’ he asked. ‘Oh, all right. Why not!’

  Rachel made a snub nose. They looked in the mirror together.

  ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘But can you make me look handsome? There’s a test for you!’

  Rachel tried a few different combinations before she found what she wanted. The creature now standing next to Morpeth was a tall good-looking man with sandy hair and piercingly blue eyes.

  Morpeth stared in astonishment. ‘He is certainly more handsome. But does it look like me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rachel replied, uncertainly. ‘I saw you as a boy in the dream Dragwena gave me. You look a bit like a grown-up version of him.’

  ‘You may be right, Rachel,’ he muttered, touching her face awkwardly. ‘It has been so long since I was a boy. I had forgotten . . . what I used to be like.’

  He stared sadly at the floor.

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ she said. ‘Perhaps . . . perhaps I can really make you look like this. Do you want me to?’

  ‘I’m so old I don’t care what I look like,’ said Morpeth. ‘Anyway, it is impossible—’ He stopped and gazed sharply at Rachel. ‘Go on then. Change me if you can!’

  Rachel considered how to do it. How can I go inside him? she wondered. On impulse, she transformed into a speck of dust, so tiny that she could enter the pores of his skin. Small currents of air in the room moved her around. Rachel steadied herself, landed on his hair, felt the texture and dryness. She moved carefully among the strands sculpting them, made them lighter, silkier. Next she softened his cheeks, smoothed out the wrinkles and changed the colour of his eyes to a deeper blue. She made herself into a small pair of scissors to cut off his ragged beard. After several minutes of hard work she was finished – or almost. She reached into all his limbs, stretching out his body, making him taller. Feeling tired, she flew to the middle of the room and turned herself into a table again.