by Natasha Lowe
Chapter Twenty-Two
* * *
Cold and Gloomy
TO KEEP PETER SAFE, CAT put him in her sock drawer. She left the drawer open so he could have some air, and right away he made himself a nest in the corner, snuggling down on her green woolly tights. “That was really scary,” Cat said, stroking his furry back. He made a happy little chattering sound. “I thought I’d lost you for good.” Cat realized that Peter must have crawled out of her pocket after landing, when she was lying on the floor, and she couldn’t risk anything else happening to him until she had turned him back into a boy.
“I’m going to go and find the spell books my mum hid,” Cat whispered, feeling bad about leaving him alone in the same room with Madeline Reynolds. The witch had opened her eyes, and every time Cat glanced in her direction, she was shocked by the emptiness she saw. It was as if Madeline Reynolds had lost her soul. Even the hatred and fury from earlier had leaked away. Cat felt like she was looking at a shell, a shell with nothing inside.
“I won’t be long,” Cat whispered, breaking bits of a Twirlie bar and scattering them in front of Peter. “This is much more tasty than my tights.”
Cat crept into her parents’ bedroom, trying not to make a noise. It had occurred to her that Auntie Charlie and Uncle Tom might be wondering where Peter was, and picking up the extension by her parents’ bed, Cat quickly dialed their number. She was relieved when Auntie Charlie answered. Uncle Tom, being a policeman, might have been able to tell that Cat was hiding something.
“Auntie Charlie, it’s Cat. Peter was wondering if he could sleep over,” Cat said, trying to keep her voice down. “It’s all right with my mum if it’s all right with you.”
“Oh, yes, that’s fine,” Auntie Charlie agreed. “Just don’t stay up too late chattering!”
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about Peter’s parents until morning now. Cat hung up the phone and peered under the bed, but there was nothing to see except dust balls. Then she searched in the closet, even standing on a chair so she could reach the top shelf. One by one she pulled open all the drawers in the carved rosewood bureau her father had brought back from Africa on one of his trips. She felt among the sweaters and T-shirts, but the books were not in there. They weren’t in the linen cupboard either. Cat didn’t think her mother would have put them in Marie Claire’s room, so they had to be downstairs.
The fire had gone out, Cat noticed as she walked into the kitchen. Marie Claire was rocking in her chair beside it, while Cat’s mother sat hunched over the table.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Cat said in surprise. Well, it wasn’t quite the dark. One small lamp shone from the sideboard, but with no fire burning and nothing in the oven, the effect was cold and gloomy. Cat switched on all the overhead lights. “Do you want me to start the fire again, Marie Claire?”
“Don’t bother, Cat. I’m going to go to bed.”
“We should all go to bed,” Poppy said with a yawn. “And when we wake up tomorrow, the worry will be over and Madeline Reynolds will have been caught.”
“I should think that’s very likely!” Cat couldn’t help saying.
“There’s soup on the stove if you want some.” Poppy sighed, rubbing her hands across her face. “Marie Claire and I had a bowl earlier.”
Cat shook her head. “No, thank you.” She walked around the room, opening cupboards and looking inside.
“Have you lost something, chérie?” Marie Claire asked, watching Cat study the shelf of cookbooks. It would be just like her mother to hide the magic books in with her cookbooks.
“Mmmm, a study guide I need for homework,” Cat said. Not meeting Marie Claire’s gaze, she turned and hurried out of the kitchen. Cat was not a good liar, and she could feel her face grow warm as she shut the door softly behind her. They had to be somewhere, Cat thought as she darted across the hall into the bakery. It was the only place besides Marie Claire’s room she hadn’t looked. But after poking around for a few minutes, checking in the drawers that held all the cake boxes and ribbon and pretty tissue paper, it was clear that the books weren’t in there. Cat was about to go back upstairs and check on Peter when she realized she hadn’t looked in the coat cupboard. Creeping out into the hall, Cat softly pulled open the closet door, and there, hidden at the back behind the winter coats and jackets, she found her cardboard box of books.
“Score,” Cat whispered, tugging them out. She glanced at the kitchen door, but it was still closed. Hugging the box of books against her chest, Cat tiptoed up to her room.
She averted her head as she walked in, not wanting to see Madeline Reynolds. The witch was still lying on Cat’s bed, silent and motionless, but just being in the same room with her was awful. Cat could feel Madeline Reynolds’s presence even when she wasn’t looking at her, as if her very evilness was poisoning the air. It had to be at least ten degrees colder in the room than the rest of the cottage, and Cat put on an extra sweater. She propped a chair in front of her door since it didn’t have a lock; she needed warning if her mother came up.
Then she knelt on the rug with Practical Magic open in front of her and leafed through it. There was nothing that seemed likely to change Peter back. Most of the spells were basic ones. Making an object move, making an object levitate, a simple color change spell, mixing a basic potion. Cat sighed and shut the book, guessing that what she needed was probably in Advanced Magic.
As she reached for the volume, Cat could sense Madeline Reynolds’s eyes on her. It was so unnerving being this close to the witch, and unable to stop herself, Cat looked up. Madeline Reynolds was staring right at her. With a soft cry, Cat quickly turned away, remembering what had happened to the guard at Scrubs. What if Madeline Reynolds decided to hypnotize her?
Even though she wanted to run out of the room, Cat forced herself to stay put, thumbing through the pages of Advanced Magic. Sure enough, at the back of the book she found what she was looking for. Under the heading “Emergency Action,” Cat discovered a list of reversal spells, including “How to reverse a shape shift spell.”
“This sort of magic should not be attempted by the novice witch,” Cat read. “In the unfortunate circumstances that a hex has been performed—which is highly illegal and against the code of magic—it is necessary to know how to undo it. Proceed with caution and only if no other option is available.”
Well, no other option was available, so Cat would just have to give it a go.
“It’s going to be fine, Peter,” she reassured him, lifting the guinea pig out of her sock drawer. Her heart was racing at the thought of performing such a spell, especially since Cat knew she was most definitely still a novice. Even though she had managed to tie up Madeline Reynolds, this sort of magic was far more complex and, Cat strongly suspected, beyond her capabilities. But she had to try. Poor Peter couldn’t stay a guinea pig forever. If she believed she could do this, then maybe the spell would work.
“Don’t worry,” Cat whispered. She stroked Peter’s fur and put him gently on the floor. “You’ll be back to normal in no time.” Cat read the spell through carefully five times. She polished her wand, wriggled into a more comfortable position, and took some deep slow breaths, trying to calm herself down. Peter seemed to be getting impatient. He was nibbling at the rug and squeaking loudly. “Right, I’m ready,” Cat finally said, hoping she wouldn’t make the situation worse. She waved her wand from left to right, performing the little flick at the end as the picture in the book demonstrated. “Ficklebacklerumpusright,” Cat sang out, chanting the spell with emphasis on the first and last syllables.
There was a cloud of pink smoke and a faint smell of hamburgers. At first Cat thought nothing had happened, because Peter ran around in circles, squeaking, and it took her a moment to realize that one of his little clawed feet was now human. A tiny human foot with perfectly shaped pink toes. “Oh, flipping fish cakes, I have made it worse,” Cat gasped.
Peter scurried over and bit Cat on the foot, as if to say he d
id not approve of what she’d done at all. She yelped and pushed him gently away. “I don’t blame you, Peter. I feel like biting me too.”
“Cat?” Poppy knocked at the door. “Can I come in a moment?” she called softly.
“Uh, no! Not right now, Mamma. I’m talking to Peter. On our walkie-talkies,” Cat added. “It’s a private conversation.”
“Well, I’m off to bed then,” Poppy said, hesitating a few moments longer before calling out, “Good night.”
“Night.” Cat sighed, rubbing at her temples. She picked up the wand and put it down again, unsure what to do. She couldn’t risk anything else going wrong. The last thing Cat wanted was to mess up Peter further. He already looked pretty odd with his little pink foot. This spell was way too advanced for her, and she knew in her heart she should not attempt it again. After dithering for another hour, Cat finally had to admit to herself that she wasn’t going to be able to turn Peter back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
* * *
Kitchen Magic
FOR A LONG TIME, CAT sat on the floor with Peter curled up in her lap. “I’m so sorry,” Cat whispered, stroking his furry back. “My magic just isn’t good enough.” She thought about asking Clara Bell for help, but Cat didn’t want to get her into trouble. It wasn’t fair to involve a Ruthersfield teacher in her mess. Besides, Cat had a strong suspicion that Clara Bell’s magic would not be strong enough for this kind of spell either. There was only one person who might be able to help. But Cat didn’t think she was brave enough to face her. “I have to though, don’t I?” Cat whispered to the guinea pig. “For your sake, Peter.” She had always been there for Cat in the past, and if this problem wasn’t connected with magic (which it most certainly was), there wouldn’t be an issue. Not knowing whom else to turn to, Cat got up off the floor and put Peter back in her sock drawer, terrified of her mother’s reaction.
“Mamma, are you awake?” Cat whispered, hovering over her mother’s bed. She touched her lightly on the shoulder, and Poppy woke with a start.
“What is it? What’s happening? Are you sick, Cat?”
“No,” Cat whispered, feeling words stick in her throat.
Poppy leaned over and turned on her bedside light. She squinted at the clock. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know. Please come, Mamma,” Cat said, and then in a quivery voice, she added, “I need you.”
Without asking any more questions, Poppy got out of bed. While she slipped on her dressing gown and knotted the sash, Cat darted into her bedroom and scooped up Peter. They met in the hallway.
“This is the problem?” Poppy said, peering at the guinea pig in Cat’s hands. “Isn’t that one of Peter’s?” She gave a sleepy yawn.
“No.” Cat shook her head, holding him up so her mother could see the guinea pig’s back foot. “It is Peter.”
“Oh, my gracious!” Poppy gasped, staring at the foot. “What have you done?”
“I . . . Oh, Mamma,” Cat whispered, unsure how to begin.
“Cat?”
“Madeline Reynolds turned him into a guinea pig, and I can’t turn him back again,” Cat blurted out. “I tried, but it didn’t work very well.” She gave her mother a pleading look. “That’s why I need your help.”
“Madeline Reynolds?” Poppy put a hand against the wall to steady herself. “Madeline Reynolds is near Italy, Cat. This is ridiculous,” she said, starting to sound angry. “What are you playing at? What have you done to this poor creature? You found those books, and you’ve been mucking about with magic, haven’t you?” Poppy’s face had gone red, her neck mottled with splotchy color. “Does Peter know what you’ve done to his guinea pig?” she fumed. “Is he in here too?” Poppy stormed into Cat’s bedroom and switched on the light. “Don’t play me for stupid, Cat. I’ve had enough.
“Oh!” Poppy gasped, standing in the doorway. “Oh!” she said again, holding on to the doorknob. The silence was a long one as Poppy stared and stared at Madeline Reynolds, who appeared to have fallen asleep again. She put a hand to her mouth but still didn’t speak.
“I caught her myself,” Cat finally said. “With the Trapped like a Fly Spell.”
“You did?” Poppy turned to her daughter. She shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe this. I thought you were terrified of Madeline Reynolds!”
“Well, I was, but in The Late Bloomer’s Guide to Magic it says if I want to get my magic under control, I have to start by overcoming my fears. So I’ve been working on them,” Cat said rather proudly. “Spiders, as well as Madeline Reynolds.”
“I see,” Poppy murmured faintly.
“And I couldn’t have done it without Peter,” Cat admitted. “At first I was terrified, but when Madeline Reynolds turned him into a guinea pig, I got so mad I wasn’t scared at all anymore, and my spell worked beautifully.”
“But I—I mean, where was she? How did you?”
“Ruthersfield,” Cat explained. “It was you who helped Peter figure it out, Mamma. You said she probably hated school as much as you did, and he reckoned this is where she would come back to. The place her unhappiness began.”
For the first time in a week, Poppy laughed. “Fifty thousand guards waiting to catch her, and Cat Campbell does it alone. You are definitely your father’s daughter.” She paused a moment, her smile slipping away. “But why, Cat? Why would you do something so dangerous, so utterly stupid and dangerous?”
“Because I knew I’d never get my magic under control otherwise. This was the only way, if I wanted to get into Ruthersfield. I had to face my biggest fear. Plus,” Cat said, smiling, “I figured it would impress Ms. Roach if I managed to catch Madeline Reynolds. She’d see how serious I am, and she’d have to offer me a place.”
“You did this to get into Ruthersfield?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“I’m stunned,” Poppy murmured, leaning against the wall. “And I need a serious cup of tea. Then we must call Uncle Tom.”
“Mamma, no!” Cat looked horrified. “We can’t call Uncle Tom yet. Not until you change Peter back.”
“Wait just one second.” Poppy held up her hands, her voice sober. “I can’t do that, Cat. I’ve been banned from practicing magic ever again.”
“But you have to,” Cat insisted, blinking back her tears. “I found the books in the coat closet. The spell is in Advanced Magic, but it’s too complicated. I tried once and look what happened.” Cat nodded at Peter’s foot. “I’m not good enough.” She gave her mother a pleading look. “You have to try, Mamma. Auntie Charlie’s your best friend. We can’t let her see Peter like this.” Cat held out her hands, and she and her mother both looked at Peter, who gave a little squeak, waving his foot in the air.
After a moment Poppy said, “No, you’re right, we can’t.” Poppy gathered her hair over one shoulder and braided it quickly. “Get the spell book and bring him down to the kitchen.” She glanced across at Madeline Reynolds. “Do you think she can escape?”
“No, definitely not,” Cat said, unable to contain her grin. “The spell worked way better than I expected. She could never untie herself.”
“So how did you get her home?” Poppy asked as they hurried down the stairs.
“I don’t think you want to know, Mamma,” Cat said. “Put it this way. Antonia Bigglesmith would be proud of me!”
Poppy made a space on the kitchen table, and Cat placed Peter next to a jar of walnuts. He ran right over to the electricity bill and started to nibble the envelope. “You’ll need this, Mamma,” Cat said, holding out Poppy’s old novice wand.
“It’s been so long since I did any magic,” Poppy said. She gave the wand a tentative wave. “Gosh, I hate these things. Even holding it makes me feel sick.” Poppy shuddered. “All right, Cat, find me the page.”
“It’s a really difficult spell,” Cat warned her, opening Advanced Magic to the back. “I mean, it looks easy, it sounds easy. But it’s just so hard.”
“Let me see.” Poppy stu
died the page. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and, waving her wand in the air, said, “Ficklebacklerumpusright.” A burst of pink smoke covered the table, with showers of green sparkles shooting out like fireworks. And when the smoke cleared, there was Peter, looking rather dazed. He had knocked over the jar of walnuts, his legs sprawled across the kitchen table.
“Thanks, Auntie Poppy!” Peter said. “My mum was right. She always said you were great at magic.”
“You are,” Cat said rather wistfully. “You’re fantastic, Mamma.”
“But I have no passion for it.” Poppy looked at her daughter. “And you do, Cat Campbell. I didn’t realize until this moment just how much.”
Peter nibbled on a walnut. His nose was still twitching. “Cat’s bound to get in to Ruthersfield now, don’t you think?”
“That’s up to Ms. Roach,” Poppy said. Her face was guarded as she swept flakes of sparkly magic off the table, and Cat couldn’t tell what her mother was thinking.
“But you’ll let me reapply?” Cat asked. “Seriously, Mamma?”
“If it’s really what you want, I’ll support you.” Cat squealed and turned a cartwheel. “But that doesn’t mean what you did was okay,” Poppy added. “It was dangerous and stupid and—”
“Pretty amazing,” Peter said, slipping on his glasses. “Honestly, Cat, you were fantastic tonight.”
“I was terrified to begin with, Peter. You were the really brave one.”
“Well, it was totally worth getting turned into a guinea pig to watch you zap Madeline Reynolds. I had a great view from under the cupboard! Can’t wait to see my dad’s face when we tell him.”
“Which will be in the morning,” Poppy said firmly. “There’s no need to disturb him now. Madeline Reynolds isn’t going anywhere, and we all need to get some rest.” Poppy glanced at the clock. “Not that there’s much night left.”