Wake love that has died and will not grow again
Impossible things, nonsensical things, let me live my life
With impossible things!
I’m a bear! You’re a bird! This ridiculous premise is
clearly absurd
But for ludicrous Magic we are the last word,
Because…
We’re the best! We’re the best!
We’re just the most marvelous, magnificent best!
And…
See how we LOVE
an impossible quest!
“Oh, I LOVE it here!” said Wish. “Please, please, please let me in…”
“You can stay!” said Perdita, excitedly opening wide her arms. “This is the challenge I’ve been waiting for!”
It was so wonderful, after weeks of wandering, friendless and alone, horribly aware that they were cursed and outlaws, to have someone actually WANTING them to stay.
“Hurrah!” said Caliburn, and Wish’s heart leaped, only to fall again as Hoola the little owl landed on the desk and waddled to the center of it, her wings on her hips.
“HANG ON A SECOND!” fumed Hoola. “Don’t forget I have to say yes too! What if the other children in this school write home to their parents to say that we’re hiding these outlaws? The Droods will shut the whole school down! Not to mention sending us all off on some deathly shadow quest…”
“You’re right,” said Perdita. “Thank you, Hoola! We’ll have to disguise Wish’s enchanted objects. Bring them out, Wish…”
The spoon jumped briskly from the top of Wish’s head, followed by the key, fork, and pins, and they trotted out onto the desk in front of Perdita. Perdita blinked, once, twice, three times, and slowly the little objects changed color, from gray to gold. The enchanted things were absolutely thrilled with the transformation. They stuck out what-would-be-their-chests-if-they-were-human and paraded around the desk, busting with pride at their new look.
“They’re still made of iron,” explained Perdita. “But now they look like they’re gold.”
“And what are we doing to do about the Warrior?” said Hoola, pointing at Bodkin.
“Yes, he’s a bit trickier,” admitted Perdita thoughtfully. “We could disguise him as a hob—they’re not very good at Magic.”
“What’s a hob?” asked Bodkin, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.
Perdita blinked, once, twice, three times.
“Oh…” said Bodkin as he looked down at the soft brown fur that had suddenly appeared all over his body. “My father would be so ashamed if he could see me now… And a tail! Was that really necessary?”
“Yes, sorry about that,” said Perdita. “You can’t be a hob without a tail.”
“It’s brilliant, Perdita, brilliant!” said Caliburn admiringly.
“It IS rather brilliant, isn’t it?” said Perdita with satisfaction.
Perdita disguised Xar’s green arm by turning the rest of him green as well, and did the same for all of Xar’s companions, including the bear, the snowcats, the sprites, Lonesome the werewolf, and Wish herself. Even the Once-sprite’s peregrine falcon and Caliburn himself were turned a very bright, unnatural green, which Caliburn thought made them look ridiculous.
“If anyone asks, say you are bog Wizards from the east,” said Perdita.
Finally, she lent Wish her pair of broken glasses to wear over her eyepatch. “Maybe you could not mention about the Magic eye,” said Perdita thoughtfully. “And just try to give the impression that the Magic is coming from somewhere else…”
“I can do that!” said Wish.
“But I haven’t said yes yet!” warned Hoola.
“Oh, please say yes,” said Caliburn, sensing weakness. “We’ve answered all your questions. The disguises are wonderful. Won’t you give us a chance?”
“After all, they ARE family,” said Perdita.
“Everyone is chasing us…” said Caliburn.
“We’re wet, we’re cold, we’re hungry,” said Bodkin, his tummy rumbling.
Wish laid a hand on Hoola’s wing. She looked into the little owl’s eyes.
“And we’re scared, and we have nowhere else to go,” said Wish.
There was a long silence.
Hoola looked at them all. Bedraggled, covered in scratches, the Bodkin-turned-into-a-hob was limping, the Xar-boy had a really nasty wound on his leg that looked like it was going septic.
It would take a harder owl than Hoola to turn down such a plea.
“Oh bother,” sighed Hoola. “Bother, bother, bother, bother, BOTHER. All right then, you’re in. But that boy with the cursed hand better not start misbehaving, or you’ll all be out again…”
“We’re IN!” shouted Caliburn.
And way, way up at the entrance to Perdita’s study, the pixies, who had been trying to eavesdrop but hadn’t been able to hear anything, heard the loudness of this cry and reacted jubilantly, shouting, “They’re IN they’re IN they’re IN! Hurrah hurrah hurrah!”
“The longer you stay here the better,” said Perdita’s warm, hypnotic voice. “It will give you time to heal, and you have so much to learn. Stay here for as long as you can…”
“All right, then,” said Xar grumpily. “We’ll stay… not for TOO long, though…”
And in his head he thought: Just until I can burgle some of those Droods’ tears…
Perdita nodded and then turned to Ariel.
“You can add the piece of flame that we took from the forest fire to the fire on my hearthstone, Sprite-whose-name-is-Ariel,” said Perdita. “It will be happy there …”
So Ariel opened his firebox, and when he added the little piece of flame to Perdita’s fire, the flames there burned bright and high as if they were welcoming it.
“But why would you want to keep a piece of fire from such an unhappy experience?” asked Wish curiously.
“You’re already asking questions, how wonderful!” said Perdita, which was interesting, because Wish was normally told off for asking too many questions. “Life is made up of so many things, happy, sad, indifferent, and you cannot ignore the sad things or even the indifferent. That drop of fire will only make my own fire stronger …”
Now that Hoola had finally agreed to let them into the learning place, she became very practical. “Okay, I’m going to show you all to your sleeping quarters,” said Hoola, “and you can get warm and dry. The snowcats and magical creatures can stay with you, but there’s a special area for giants. This bear needs to go urgently to a sleeping cave—it’s way past its bedtime for the winter.” The sleepy bear agreed with a great bear yawn.
“You’re just in time for supper at the dining hall,” finished Hoola, “so I’ll take you to that, and then I’ll drop the door and the boys off at the infirmary—they all need urgent medical attention.”
And then they trooped up the stairs to be greeted with rapturous delight by the pixies. Perdita turned Crusher green and then she hurried off, saying she had work to do making good the hole they had made in the Magic protecting the school by bringing iron in with them and Hoola would look after them in the meantime.
“Onebearonegiantonewerewolftwodrowned humansthreewolvesthreesnowcatsEIGHTuselesss pritesoneperegrinefalconandababyALLTHECOLOR GREEN… and a hob! WELCOME ALL!” sang the pixies as they trooped off toward the sleeping quarters.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” said Hoola.
“You’re HOME, you’re HOME, welcome to your HOME!” sang everyone all together at full blast. Then Crusher sang,
“Your magical,
marv-e-lous,
magnifi-cent…
…new HO-O-O-OME!!!!”
8. The Nuckalavee
I have to say, I am deeply relieved that for the moment Wish and Xar have found themselves a new home, a bed for the night, and many nights to come, and a nice warm meal to fill their empty tummies. They will be there for a long while, now, thank goodness, for it was not only poor old Caliburn and the sleepy bear who needed a little p
eaceful time to rest, and to heal. Caliburn was so ragged he had lost all of the feathers around his neck, poor bird, and you could see the pink of his skin there and on the top of his head. And they all had burns from the fire and had lost weight from their days on the run, so Wish and Xar and Bodkin were as bony as twigs and needed to put on strength.
I wish I could describe the food that was prepared that midwinter’s evening and the careless way that they enjoyed it, for it truly was delicious. Perdita made it all, and she was the most excellent cook, for until you have tasted nettle soup mixed with Magic, you really have not tasted heaven. But, sadly, I can’t entirely concentrate on how scrumptious it all is.
Unfortunately I am the narrator, so I can see beyond Pook’s Hill, the cozy dome of chalk horse and green grass that is protecting our heroes at the moment, and what I see makes me nervous.
I can see the Nuckalavee.
The Nuckalavee is a quiet presence in the ocean, but he’s a bad one.
He contains more nightmares than a Quagmire’s head could hold. There’re sour things in the Nuckalavee… disappointed hopes and the end of dreams and staffs of power too longing with evil to be left in the hands of women or men. So he is not a monster to visit lightly. In fact, no one approaches the Nuckalavee unless they are on a shadow quest, and those on a shadow quest no longer care if they live or die, which is why they are known as “shadows.”
No one that I have heard of yet has taken the scales of the Nuckalavee and lived.
So the Nuckalavee is out there, and the Nuckalavee is waiting.
I can see Queen Sychorax too.
She is nice and cozy camping out in her richly embroidered royal tent, in the smoking remains of the forest she has burned around her, and she has just received a visitor. The visitor is a soldier wearing the colors of the emperor, and the emperor is supposed to be her leader, so unfortunately she has to meet his Warrior, midnight or no midnight, whether she wants to or not.
“Why are you here?” snaps Queen Sychorax. “One might almost say I was being stalked…”
“I am here,” announces the visitor, “in the name of LOVE.”
“LOVE?” says Queen Sychorax in a voice of snow and raising one eyebrow.
“My name is Thunderous Thighs Himself,” announces this Warrior soldier, puffing out his chest. “I have been sent here urgently by the emperor of Warriors because the emperor is concerned that these territories are being run by a defenseless female. So I am here to offer you my hand in marriage, to be your husband and king.”
Queen Sychorax’s eyes narrow. “Really?” purrs Queen Sychorax.
“I am a giant-killer extraordinaire,” boasts Thunderous Thighs Himself. “I have strangled many an elf with my bare hands. I am very good-looking. My axe work is magnificent, but I am also a Warrior in LOVE.”
Queen Sychorax walks around Thunderous Thighs Himself. She sniffs.
Thunderous Thighs Himself feels a slight stirring of unease. He reaches into his waistcoat for his love poetry, but Queen Sychorax accidentally clonks him in the midriff with one of her scepters.
He doubles over in pain.
“Let me tell you,” says Queen Sychorax, smiling, “what I think of LOVE.”
Gracefully she reaches out a hand to help Thunderous Thighs Himself to his feet again.
The moment he touches her ice-cold hand, however, there is a loud explosion, a great deal of nauseous smoke, and Thunderous Thighs Himself completely disappears.
His clothes are there, in a slightly singed pile. His love poetry rains softly through the room, blackened and blasted. But of Thunderous Thighs Himself, no sign at all.
However there is a small round bead, circling on the floor at Queen Sychorax’s feet, that hadn’t been there before.
Delicately, smoothly, Queen Sychorax bends down and picks up the small round bead.
Gently, tenderly, Queen Sychorax attaches the bead next to the many other beads hanging on the necklace around her throat.
The bead she attaches is, by coincidence, exactly the same pattern as that on the helmet of Thunderous Thighs Himself…
“That,” says Queen Sychorax, “is what I think of LOVE.”
Oh, she’s a cold one, that Queen Sychorax.
And she will not rest till she has got hold of Wish and put her back in iron Warrior fort, locked her up as tightly as if she were trapped in the bead of a necklace.
Queen Sychorax is very confident that she will find out EXACTLY where the children are, and EXACTLY how to find them. For as the narrator, I know something you do not know.
Xar was right. It was not a coincidence that Queen Sychorax had discovered them in that forest.
SOMEONE had betrayed them.
There was a traitor in their party.
Who could it be? Was Tiffinstorm right? Can you REALLY not trust a werewolf you met in a prison?
They had better WATCH OUT, for the traitor is still there with them…
And even if the traitor did not carry on betraying them, it was already too late.
Queen Sychorax had one of Wish’s pins.
In the confusion of running away through the fire, it had stuck itself particularly firmly into a bit of Queen Sychorax’s armor, and it could not work its way out in time.
Queen Sychorax had that pin, and all she had to do was set it free and follow it, and it would lead her back to Wish.
Encanzo’s out there, somewhere, too, brooding on Queen Sychorax.
Farther away than that, I can see through the ball of iron where Wish has imprisoned the great bad Kingwitch himself. He is all curled up in his ball of iron, scratching, scratching, pecking his way out, like a chick from an egg. If you think that the two Witches whom you have seen already are bad enough, well the Kingwitch is badder by far and makes the pair of them look like a couple of dusty old scarecrows. The Kingwitch has the salt-ditch, rotten-egg, corpse-breath, arsenic-wicked stench of the truly evil, and he has a tiny speck of blue dust that belongs to Wish, and he will use it when he gets the chance.
The Kingwitch will take his time.
But the Kingwitch will find a way.
So Perdita and Caliburn and Hoola and Crusher are going to have to hide our heroes, teach them, guide them well, if they’re going to have any sort of chance against the future that is waiting for them.
9. The Learning Place for Spectacularly Gifted Wizards
That marked the beginning of the happiest, most peaceful time in Wish’s small, short life. It wasn’t anything like being taught by Madam Dreadlock. For the first time, Wish could practice all the powers that she had spent so many years covering up and smothering. She could never imagine that such a wonderful timetable could exist in the world. There were whole terms on trees. The different kinds, how to recognize them from their leaves, talking to them, tending them, what different woods did what different things.
And then there was starcraft and invisibility and transforming-into-animals and bringing-things-to-life, not to mention flying-without-wings…
There was also word-learning and number-learning, of course, but they were a very small part of the timetable, and the teacher who taught them, Madam Mellows, was much more understanding than Madam Dreadlock. She had an entire set of letters and numbers that were all alive, and she kept them in boxes, a bit like Perdita’s spectacle box.
Wish found it far easier to remember the lesson of the day when it was demonstrated by small furry or spiky or twiggy number animals and letter animals performing cartwheels and handsprings in front of her eyes.
The other Wizard and magical creature children were very friendly and welcoming. As Perdita had said, they completely accepted that Xar and his companions were green because of coming from the east. So Wish and Bodkin found themselves, for the first time in their lives, making actual friends, with a Drood girl who came from the Lake of the Lost and had enchanted objects just like Wish (but not made out of iron, of course), and a boggart boy who came from under the ooze in the north.
&nbs
p; At first, Bodkin thought that the long brown fur covering him all over in his disguise as a hob was horribly itchy and undignified, but after a while he realized how practical it was, warm and cozy, and really rather beautiful, particularly when you brushed it till it shone. He became proud of it and the lovely important swooshing noise it made when he walked. And the tail! Don’t get him started on the tail. Bodkin wondered how he’d ever lived life before without a tail. It was so expressive: perky when you were happy, droopy when you were sad, and extremely useful in the tree-climbing lessons. Bodkin could be up in the top of the tree canopy in three, four swings with that helpful addition of the tail, while the others were still climbing up the lower branches.
Bodkin had learned to read and write from overhearing things while he swept the corners in classrooms. Now, for the first time, somebody was actually teaching him as though he was a real person and not just somebody to give orders to. Bodkin was a fast learner, and he was very quickly shooting ahead in a lot of the classes—the ones that involved not actually doing Magic of course—and there were a surprising amount of them.*
He was at a disadvantage in the classes where Magic had to be performed, but Perdita had given him a do-it-yourself Magic staff that did a simple spell, which was “sticking things to other things,” in order to hide that he couldn’t do any Magic at all.
Everyone looked forward to Perdita’s lessons. That spring, Perdita was teaching spell-making and tree studies and transformation.
“Wonderful!” she said, when somebody performed a spell correctly. “Marvelous!”
And a strange thing happened. Whomever she said this to really did begin to think that they were quite marvelous after all. It was particularly effective with Xar. Xar never had a mother—she died when he was born—so he was quite surprised when Perdita took out her rose-tinted spectacles and said things like, “How fascinatingly creative!” when told the story about how he had accidentally melted one of the chairs. It made Xar behave better because he wanted to impress her.
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