by Noel Pogson
For a few seconds there was a stunned silence, then Barty, who reacted quicker than Sir Philip, quickly cast sleeping charms over the boys again, and they all collapsed backwards into the bed. They were only asleep this time though, not unconscious.
“Ruddy Nora, Zak!” exclaimed Steven, shaken rigid once again by the power of the magic coming from his friend’s wand.
“It was a bit overpowering wasn't it Steven,” said Barty, placing a reassuring hand on the trembling eleven-year-old’s shoulder.
“You’re just going to have to get used to it though mate, because your two friends here are the two most powerful wizards this world has seen for centuries! They’ve been given this power for something they have to face in the future, and each time I see it, I get more worried about just what danger it is that’s out there waiting for us…”
* * *
The rest of Sunday seemed to be incredibly full, and passed very quickly. Sir Philip expertly removed the footballer’s memories of being hit by both of Zak’s spells, then he and Barty ported each of them to the Turner’s house while they were still asleep. The three eleven-year-olds went to The Copse using the portal into Tallion’s wardrobe, much to the surprise and delight of Steven!
Sir Philip implanted very similar memories of a party into each of the footballer’s minds, and with the agreement of John and Jenny into their minds too, including Zak, Tallion, and Steven. They were all surprised how clear and certain were their recollections of the entertainment during the afternoon. Most of the activity seemed to have been in the garden, apart from feeding them all, and they appeared to have eaten rather a lot!
The tricky part was waking them up so that they didn’t see each other waking up. After having spread them out around the large garden, and in a couple of rooms in the house, including the downstairs bathroom, Barty reversed the sleeping spell, and the boys all stirred, sitting up and rubbing their eyes. Zak, Tallion, and Steven were kicking a ball round the back lawn, and when they saw the players moving, they shouted out to no-one in particular to join in.
It didn’t take long before the footballers put the strange experience of waking up in a different place behind them, and the kick about got a bit boisterous.
John Turner suggested that they went to the fields if they wanted to carry on playing, which got general agreement, and by six o’clock the crowd of boys were all enjoying a lopsided game in the field behind the post office. No-one noticed the cloaked figure staring hard at the footballers as she walked along the magical track to Upper Nettleton.
The game ended at about seven o’clock when the boys’ parents arrived to collect their children following phone calls from John Turner. Sir Philip lifted all the remaining enchantments as he watched the situation merge smoothly back into the reality of dales life. Seven hours earlier a calamity had been looming, but the crisis passed, and the magic in the dale was still safely hidden. More importantly, they’d thwarted Antares Malchus murderous plans yet again!
The baronet was realistic enough to understand that wouldn’t always be the case. The dark wizard was gunning for him and his family, and anyone close to them, and one day he would almost certainly succeed. It was impossible to live a normal life without risking death at the hands of a determined wizard assassin. That was for the future though. Today they could enjoy the relief of having lived to fight another day…
19. The Hidden Wizard
As September headed towards October, Netherdale took on the rich, warm colours of autumn. Misty mornings began to hide Nether Bank Farm from view when the cool moist air lifted off the river, which flowed lazily down the dale. The moors started to lose their summer appeal, and began to look windswept and barren. Ian Robson was busy preparing the farm for the approaching winter, and had spent the last few days of the month getting his lambs ready for market. They’d had a good year, despite the set-back on the moors in the summer. If he could get a good price at market, he’d be able to buy everything he needed for the winter ahead, replace some of the farm equipment, and put more money aside into his ‘land fund’ as he called it.
Sir Philip, or rather his solicitor, had sent the farmer a draft contract for the purchase of the fields behind the village. When he passed the documents to his own solicitor, the man had expressed surprise bordering on shock!
“Stone me Ian! How the blazes did yer persuade him to part with any land! There’s folks been trying to buy land off him for decades, and he’s never so much as nibbled before, let alone agreed a sale!”
“It were Steven, Jerry. Summat abaht ‘im caught Sir Ian’s eye, and he just warmed to t’ lad. Next thing a knew, he’d promised to sell ‘im some fields in exchange fer working his socks off and farming it when I’m done! A were fair tekken aback like, but when he turned to me to see if I were up fer it, I snapped ‘is ‘and off!”
“Too right mate, too ruddy right. Hat’s off. Well, glancing over this he’s been quite fair with you. I know the land’s right next to yours, but there’s plenty o’ lads in the dale would pay a darn sight more than this for it! I need to read it carefully mind, but just glancing through it, I reckon you‘ll likely be able to sign this straight off, with no changes at all!”
By the end of the week, Ian was a happy man. He’d managed to sell all his lambs at top market price, thanks to his careful breeding and Steven helping him to keep them all in good condition, and he’d signed the paperwork to buy the new fields from Sir Philip.
The bluff Yorkshire farmer wasn't one to gloat and boast, but deep inside he was quite proud that Nether Bank Farm was now probably the biggest farm in the dale, and he owned the lot, outright! Well, that wasn't quite true. He’d been very careful, with the help of his shrewd solicitor, to make sure that the new fields went into joint names with Steven so that when the time came, the transfer of ownership of the farm to his son would be a bit easier and less expensive!
* * *
The week at school passed in a very ordinary manner, a bit like the weather. It started out well enough with the under thirteen’s football victory over Broughton Grammar being celebrated in the school on Monday morning, and Zak’s name being in the school bulletin. Everyone who’d been there had a different story to tell about some part of the game, but it seemed that no-one could remember anything about what happened afterwards. The only thing that was discussed was the impromptu celebration party at Zak’s house, with half the team wanting to know why they hadn’t been invited!
Sam was surprised and relieved to see that somehow over the weekend, the three friends seemed to have got over their differences and were now firmer friends than ever. It had been getting very uncomfortable with them not talking to each other. He was pleased to find himself constantly pulled into the group too, and not left out. He was a bit surprised when Sartrina’s name came up a few times, but there seemed to be no animosity between Tallion and Steven about it anymore. Zak even gave Steven a letter one morning that he’d received from her for some reason, which Steven then passed on to Tallion when he’d finished reading it.
* * *
Tallion invited Steven to stay over at the castle again on Friday evening, and his dad, who was feeling very pleased with the week’s farming activities, immediately gave his permission. It was on the understanding that Steven swapped with Tom his farmhand, so that Tom got a Sunday off instead of a Saturday. Both of them were happy with that, so Friday evening found Steven excitedly sitting with Zak and Tallion in the schoolrooms at Lofthouse Castle, taking part in their magic lessons for the first time.
He had no trouble understanding Alchemy, Feralogy, Physical Self Defence (which wasn't magical anyway) and Astronomy, although he obviously lacked the background reading and learning that the other two had gone through over the summer.
Bjarne was sitting with him, and answered any questions that he had so that they didn’t slow down the lessons for Zak and Tallion. Bjarne seemed to have read so many books that everything Barty was teaching was already in his head!
Saturday morning was a different matter though, and both the Transfiguration class, and Spells and Charms, were completely beyond him. Bjarne couldn’t take part either, due to not having a wand, so they went outside to fly around and practise Balayage. To start with, Steven threw the Pelotts from the ground, but after while he decided to try throwing them whilst he was sitting on his broom, and he soon realised that he enjoyed the challenge of flying and playing at the same time.
“Steven, Bjarne, over here please!” called out Sir Philip, appearing in the courtyard without warning. The two boys dutifully whooshed down to where he was standing near the broom store and dismounted.
“Steven, we need to get you a wand to see just how magical you are. I know you want to be a farmer, and I will help you every way I can in that respect, but you are magical, and you need to be able to defend yourself at the very least, and your family too.”
“Findlay MacElver will be at his shop in Upper Nettleton at eleven this morning to see if we can match you up with a wand. That’s in about ten minutes. Now, we have a choice about how to get there; we can port or we can fly. It’s a long time since I flew to Upper Nettleton, although I used to do it all the time when I was younger. We’ll need to swing out over the moor so that no-one in the dale can see us, and come to the village from the other direction, but I think Bjarne will appreciate the ride!”
Steven glanced at his young friend, and grinned. “We’ll fly! If that’s really okay?”
“It is. Right, give me a moment.”
The baronet disappeared into the broom store and came out a few seconds later with his Falcon Pro. He looked at Steven’s hand-me-down Raven Silver Spur with a frown; he’d forgotten that Steven didn’t have an unrestricted broom.
“Are you up for a bit of an adventure Steven?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He didn’t know why, but every time he was about to fly he seemed to revert to behaving like a teenager! Bella was forever telling him off about it, but she was in Upper Nettleton buying potion ingredients, so couldn’t restrain him this time.
“Aye Sir Philip, always!”
“Right, I’m sure Zak won’t mind. I give you permission to use his broomstick so that we can go a bit quicker and have a tour of the moor on the way back. Look lively now!”
Steven knew that Zak wouldn’t mind either, so he gleefully ran back into the broom store and swapped brooms. He wasn’t sure he could manage an unrestricted broom, but he was more than willing to give it go!
“Is everything the same? Do I just fly it the same way?” he asked as he ran back into the courtyard.
“Yes,” answered Bjarne with a grin. “Just watch out, though, because it’ll go a lot faster; get your feet firmly on the foot rests before you set off!”
Bjarne had already become an expert in racing starts, and as soon as the baronet told his second son to head out over the moor, the nine-year-old proved beyond any doubt that he was up to handling a racing broom by vanishing vertically upwards heading for the clouds.
Sir Philip rolled his eyes, clicked his tongue, and sighed as he looked at Steven.
“Just like his father! Okay, take it easy and head out over the moor towards the crag, we’ll join you in a minute!”
He then whooshed vertically upwards too, straight after his son who was already just a spec in the sky. The ripping sound from the Falcon Pro though was noticeably more powerful than from the Falcon Tourer, and Steven was sure Bjarne would have company very soon! He was a bit startled to find himself alone, with a brand new adult broom, and instructions to fly it by himself across the moor. He was suddenly a bit nervous too, what if something went wrong?
“Come on scaredy cat, that’s not like you, now get on with it!” he muttered to himself, so he did! His much slower start still nearly shoved him off the back though, and he gasped at the difference in power between the Falcon Tourer and his Silver Spur. Going back to his own broom was going to be rather a let-down, and he hoped that Sir Philip would get him a Falcon. He knew he’d never dare ask for one though…
* * *
The trip to the village was fast, exhilarating, but otherwise uneventful. Steven got the hang of controlling the high powered broomstick within a minute, and headed towards the crag as instructed. In no time at all, Bjarne howled past him from behind, making him jump, and then circled round to join him as his father appeared on the other side of the grinning young farmer.
“This way,” he called, and veered to the right with the two boys following him. In no time at all they were heading through the trees at the far end of the village, and Sir Philip flicked his wand to open the protective wards which surrounded it. The three wizards then flew slowly up the main street until they got to the Proudfoot’s house. Lepus and Lupus were out within seconds, and ran up the path with big grins on their faces, bowing their heads to Sir Philip first, then greeting Bjarne and Steven. When they saw the broomsticks that the trio were riding, their eyes went wide and their mouths dropped open.
“They’re Falcons aren’t they? Wow! Bjarne, how can you ride it? You’re not big enough!”
The young aristocrat was very proud of his broom, but the presence of his father stopped him from boasting, just!
“I can manage, it’s not that difficult really,” he grinned.
“Lepus, Lupus, we’d actually like to leave our brooms here rather than taking them right into the village, do you think you can look after them for us?”
“Yes sir, of course,” answered both boys in unison, their eyes glittering with pleasure. At that moment, their mum poked her head out of the house, and seeing Sir Philip, quickly came down the path.
“Good morning Altair, we’re not staying, we’re just leaving our brooms here so that we can walk into the village rather than fly. Lepus and Lupus have agreed to look after them for us.”
“Of course, Sir Philip,” replied the flustered mother of five, unsure as always just how to address the baronet. Most people in Upper Nettleton seemed to call him Sir Philip, but she always felt as though she should call him Lord Middleham, and yet that seemed a bit too formal when he’d just arrived on a broomstick!
Before she had chance to say anything else, Sir Philip waved his wand over the three of them, and transformed their normal clothes into wizard robes. Steven was caught by surprise and stared wide-eyed first at Bjarne and Sir Philip, and then at his own robes. A grin spread over his face as he suddenly felt more like a wizard than ever before. The rich, dark plum-coloured velvet cape matched his dark hair very well, and the silvery laced up leather jerkin made him feel like royalty!
“Come on Steven,” said the baronet, “it’s time to meet Mr MacElver.”
Lepus, Lupus, and Altair knew what that meant, and the twins looked a little jealous as Steven grinned at them.
On the way to the wandmaker’s, Sir Philip swept into the apothecary and found his wife and daughter, buying ingredients, as expected. After inviting Bella to join them when she was finished, the smiling baronet ushered Steven and Bjarne further down the street.
Findlay MacElver was as welcoming and courteous as ever. His lilting Irish voice ran through the normal preamble about wands and wizards, and then he ushered Steven into the cave at the side of his shop.
“Now, young Steven, you’re a lucky lad. There’s not many first generation wizards get brought into my shop by Sir Philip here!”
The wandmaker studied the young farmer closely, his sharp, elfish eyes taking in the rough hands, and the well-developed muscles in his shoulders and arms. He smiled inwardly as he continued.
“It’s a curious thing magic. Sometimes, like in young Tallion, and of course in Zak Turner, it’s overwhelmingly powerful. To be sure, those two boys are destined for demanding roles in life. Within others, though it’s gentle, and polite, almost apologetic at times. You are most certainly a wizard, for if you weren’t you wouldn’t be here in the village, and yet you want to be a farmer and live down in the dale. There’s nothing wrong with that! Fate has give
n you that desire, and also just enough magic to fulfil your role in our world, whatever that role might be.”
“Others will boast of their power, but don’t let that worry you young man. Everyone gets what they’re given when it comes to magic! No-one’s entitled to the powers that they have, and we’re all accountable for what we do with those powers too. You can be sure that from those to whom much is given, much is expected.”
“Now, we need a few particulars so that we can get you matched up with a wand. First, your date of birth if you please.”
“Eighth of February nineteen ninety eight,” replied Steven, a little bit over-awed by the mysterious wandmaker.
“Very good, very good. Now let me see, early February, hmmm, well the wood for your wand will be Rowan my boy. Excellent. A strong and sturdy wood it is too, just right for a farmer, as you will no doubt be well aware. Although these days I expect most of the machinery on your farm is made of steel, not wood, am I right?”
Steven nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but the wandmaker swept on.
“Rowan has other properties though, as well as its physical strength. Chief amongst them is its ability to protect those close to it. I‘ll warrant there’s a Rowan tree or two around your farmhouse eh? I thought so. Your ancestors might not have been magical, but they listened to those who were!”
“You need to keep your wand with you always, young man, for rowan is a powerful talisman. It will hide you when others seek to harm you, and will help you come to the aid of friends and loved ones. It will give you a clear mind, revealing the truth of any situation, and unlocking that which is a mystery to others. It will guide you and those with you, and the wisdom it imparts will be obvious to all. Many will turn to you in times of trial and distress.”
The wandmaker was watching Steven carefully as he spoke, weighing him up, and trying to get the measure of this second hidden wizard. He like what he saw.