by C. J. Busby
He started to hand out jars and pots of ingredients, explaining that they would be trying out a relatively simple spell for immobility “to see how everyone does”. Max crossed his fingers, conjured a fire and set to work, but as he chopped and stirred and muttered over his spell it began to look increasingly like Ferocious had been right about the cauldron. Max’s potion was definitely not doing what it should. He looked at his spell book for the fifteenth time and then back at the cauldron. What should have been a bright orange bubbling mixture was currently a rather smelly, green sludge with lumps that refused to dissolve no matter how many times Max repeated the incantation.
“Having trouble, are we?” said Ferocious, poking his head out and surveying the mess with a practised eye. “Told you so.”
“Shut up, Ferocious,” said Max, desperately chopping an extra handful of slugs’ toenails. “It’s nearly right. I expect it will work, anyway, even if it doesn’t look quite right.”
The girl next to Max, who had told him her name was Marion, looked over at his spell and giggled. “Umm, not quite right that, I think. Maybe a bit more daffodil root?”
Max went pink, and carried on mixing. He tried to look unconcerned as one by one the apprentices took their finished spells up to Aleric to test. As each apprentice flicked a small drop of their potion onto a bored-looking chicken on Aleric’s desk, the chicken froze into immobility for a few seconds before being released by a drop of antidote. Max, trying to look nonchalant, brought his potion up last of all and carefully dripped a blob of sludge-green slime on the bird’s head.
There was a pause.
The chicken blinked, then it jumped into the air, shrieked once and sprouted an extra pair of wings. It cackled loudly and looked reproachfully at Max.
“Ah… Hmm… Interesting,” said Aleric. “Not quite right, young Pendragon, but… an interesting variant. Perhaps you might like to practise that one a little in your spare time.”
When Max finally got back to his room that evening, it was clear that Olivia’s day had not been much better than his. She was sitting on a stool by the fire with her feet in a bucket of hot water and a wet cloth over her face. When she heard him come in, she lifted the cloth, and Max saw an assortment of bruises and a rather nasty cut just above her right eye.
“Morgana’s stinking fat bully of a nephew, Mordred,” she spat. “Five foot nothing and thinks he’s king of the squires because his father is King of Orkney.”
“And let me guess,” said Max, looking at her bruises. “You decided to give him a piece of your mind.”
Olivia put the cloth back over her face crossly. “I didn’t do anything, Max, honest. He just likes bullying anyone who’s new. He tripped me up twice, ‘accidentally’ threw a sack of grain at my head instead of onto the cart, and then nearly managed to slice my eyebrow off waving his sword around and showing off.”
Max slumped down next to her and held out his hands to the fire. “Well, it looks like we both had a pretty terrible start. Let’s hope tomorrow’s a bit better.”
But it wasn’t. And nor was the rest of the week. Max continued to make a total idiot of himself in the magic lessons. On Tuesday, his ‘swift feet’ spell turned the class snail into a snail the size of an elephant before Aleric rapidly returned it to normal size. Max spent all lunchtime scrubbing its slime off the floor. On Wednesday, his ‘lighter than air’ spell turned the class block of granite into a marvellous statue of St Petroc (Aleric decided to keep that one for his chambers), while on Thursday his ‘hair growth’ spell left the bald stableman as bald as ever but with very hairy nostrils. (“Well, it’s definitely hair, young Pendragon! Getting better!” Aleric had said, encouragingly.) Friday, however, was the last straw. Everyone had to test their invisibility potion on themselves. While the rest of the class popped satisfyingly out of sight, Max hit the ground like a felled tree, snoring loudly, and had to be carried to his room for the rest of the day to sleep off the after-effects.
Meanwhile, Olivia had spent the week unsuccessfully trying to avoid Mordred. By Friday afternoon she had been dunked in the duck pond twice, had a bucket of pig swill ‘accidentally’ dropped on her head, and spent most of that day searching for Max’s second-best sword, which she eventually found propping open a small skylight in the armoury.
“Right, that’s it!” she seethed as she came into their chambers waving her sword dangerously close to Max’s ears. “Mordred has gone too far this time! Where’s the frogspell, Max? This time tomorrow he’s going to be croaking his head off in the castle dung heap… And when he finally gets someone to change him back, I’m going to fight him.”
But Max wasn’t interested in Mordred. He was busy pacing up and down doing his own seething.
“If I don’t get a new cauldron, I’m finished. I may as well pack up and go home. I’m never getting the Spell Certificate, and I won’t be a wizard, and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life whacking stupid practice dummies with stupid swords!”
Olivia frowned at him. She was wondering if it would make her feel better to just punch Max on the nose. He was pretty much wondering the same thing about her. Luckily, just then, Adolphus bounded up to them and started bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Do you need a new cauldron, Max? Do you really? Because I know just where to get one! We can go tomorrow! It’ll be fun!”
They both looked down at him, speechless with amazement. Adolphus with an idea? Surely this was impossible?
“Did I hear you right, Adolphus?” said Max at last. “Did you say you knew where I could get a cauldron?”
“Yes, yes!” said Adolphus, happily. “My Great-Aunt Wilhelmina! She collects them!”
“And your Great-Aunt Wilhelmina lives where, exactly?” asked Ferocious, poking his head out of Max’s belt pouch. “The Isles of the Blest? The outer reaches of the Northern Wastes?”
“No, quite close, actually,” said Adolphus, oblivious to the rat’s sarcasm. “I visited her once, when I was little, with my Mum… She lives in a cave in the Forest of Gore. It’s a really big cave and it’s full of cauldrons! She’s a bit mad… But she’ll be really happy to see us. Er… I think so, anyway.”
Max and Olivia looked at each other. This sounded more fun than another day spent failing to make spells work or getting cramp from propping up the practice dummy for everyone else to whack.
“We’ll have to sneak away early,” said Max, thinking about it.
“But how will we get past the guards at the gate?” said Olivia. “No one’s supposed to go out without permission.”
Max grinned. “I know. But we won’t have to. We can go from one of the turrets. We can turn ourselves into dragons!”
“And just how are we going to do that?” said Olivia. “Your spells haven’t exactly been behaving themselves lately, have they? You’ll probably turn us into buckets.”
“No, don’t be an idiot! We’ve got the frogspell. All we have to do is turn ourselves into frogs, and then get Adolphus to kiss us… Remember – humans kiss you back to yourself, but if another animal kisses you, it changes you into one of them. So Adolphus can kiss us into dragons, and then the antidote will turn us back afterwards… What do you think, Ferocious? Fancy being a dragon?”
Ferocious considered. “I think I’ll stay as a rat, thanks. There’s always the danger you’ll get Adolphus’s brains along with his dragon shape, and then you’ll need someone with you who can actually think.”
***
While Max and Olivia were busy plotting their escape from the castle as dragons, Lady Morgana le Fay was with Sir Richard Hogsbottom, putting the final touches to plans for the biggest wild dragon hunt the castle had ever seen.
“You can take the novices and apprentices along, as well. We’ll want the whole castle out there. The more people there are, the more chance of finding this cave,” she ordered.
“Indeed, your worship, my lady,” agreed Sir Richard in admiring tones, bending his whole body towards her in an attempt t
o appear even more humble and ingratiating, his plump white hands twittering in front of him. “And my son, Adrian, will be out with the hunt as well, of course. He is fully aware of the situation… What supreme luck that you have found out the treasure is so close! So nearly in our grasp!”
Morgana’s lips pressed together and she frowned. “But not yet in our grasp, Sir Richard. And until we find this wrinkled old dragon and her hoard, our plans cannot proceed. So do not fail me, Sir Richard. I need the Treasure of Annwn!”
Meeting Great-Aunt Wilhelmina
Max was enjoying being a dragon. Getting used to his wings had been a bit tricky at first. They had soared down from the castle turret happily enough, but flying between the trees of Gore Forest required more skill. At one point Max had flown smack into a tree trunk and knocked himself senseless, which made Olivia laugh so much she fell off the branch she was perched on. After that they’d been a bit more cautious, although they hadn’t been able to resist a fire-breathing contest that had left a whole trail of blackened and scorched oak trees in their wake. Ferocious had decided early on that, dim as Adolphus was, at least he had had a lot more practice at being a dragon – so he was perched on Adolphus’s neck, rolling his eyes at their antics.
By midday they had reached a clearing deep in the forest, and it was beginning to look like they were lost.
“I thought you knew the way, Adolphus,” said Max, exasperated.
“Well, yes, I do… I think… but I’m just not sure… Um, I think it’s along this stream. But it might be up this path.” The dragon hung his head, looking apologetic.
Olivia nudged him gently with her tail. “Don’t worry, Adolphus. We’ll stop for a bit, and then maybe it will come to you.”
“I don’t suppose so,” put in Ferocious darkly. “Probably can’t find the way back now, either. Doomed to live out our lives in this forest. And you left the antidote back in the castle, so you’ll be stuck as dragons for the rest of your lives.” He twitched his whiskers and then grinned. “But look on the bright side. I’m still a rat.”
“Oh stop moaning, Ferocious, and have a bit of bacon,” said Max, opening the pack that had been slung around his dragon neck. “Actually the antidote’s safely in my pack, along with the frogspell. And here Adolphus, I brought you some roasted woodlice.”
They were all happily munching when there was a tremendous CRACK! nearby, quickly followed by the dim sound of a hunting horn in the distance.
“What?” said Olivia.
“Sshhh!” said Max.
They froze.
There was definitely someone approaching them through the forest. Slowly and carefully they backed away into the undergrowth at the side of the clearing, and listened as the sounds got closer and closer. It was a horse – or someone riding a horse – and it sounded like there was only one. Max held his breath and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as a bright red-gold dragon can when hiding in ragged green and brown undergrowth.
The horse came crashing into the clearing, and before the man riding it had a chance to draw breath Adolphus flew out of the bush he was hiding in and started dancing around in front of him.
“Adolphus! NO!” hissed Max, but Olivia laughed.
“It’s all right! It’s Caradoc! He likes dragons.”
The bard jumped down from his horse and bent down to Adolphus, scratching him behind his ears, just where he liked it.
“Well, well, hello there, Adolphus!” He looked up and spotted the others. “Found some friends, have you?”
Olivia wriggled out from under some creepers and bounded towards him, and Max reluctantly emerged from behind her. Caradoc surveyed the newcomers.
“Well, what a beautiful dragon,” he said, looking at Olivia’s shining silvery-purple scales. “And another fine young dragon,” he added, as Max joined them. “Bad day for you all to be wandering around in these woods, my friends.”
They turned to each other. What did he mean? Caradoc looked at them with an odd expression, and then turned away, apparently talking to his horse.
“If I were a dragon, I’d be a bit careful today, eh, Nellie?” he said, patting her on the neck. “What with the massive wild dragon hunt just set off from the castle. Quite a large number of squires, apprentices and knights combing the forest as we speak.”
He got back into the saddle, and gave the horse a nudge to start moving. As he plodded out of the clearing, they heard him say, to no one in particular, “I wonder if they’ve come down from that old dragon cave? The one just up the mountain where the stream comes out. I hope they get back there in time to escape the hunt…”
***
Jerome Stodmarsh was plodding along through the forest wishing very much that he wasn’t Sir Richard Hogsbottom’s ward. Learning to be a knight was one thing; getting dragged into various schemes to unseat King Arthur was another. It wasn’t that Jerome cared two dragon’s sneezes for King Arthur, but so far being part of the plots against him had meant being banished to Gore, forced to do sentry duty in the northern marches and now being stuck with Snotty combing the forest for a non-existent dragon.
“I really don’t think there’s a single dragon in this forest, Adrian,” he complained as they came out into yet another silent, empty clearing. He could hear the noise of the main hunt a few miles away, but Snotty had insisted on them exploring the far western edges of the forest together.
Snotty turned round in the saddle and frowned at him.
“Do stop moaning, Jerome. I know this is the right place. The divining spell Lady Morgana did showed this as the most likely. And I want to be the one that finds it.”
Jerome shrugged, and they wound their way further into the forest – until Snotty suddenly stopped, and held up a hand for silence.
“There’s something ahead,” he hissed at Jerome. They carefully dismounted, and crept forward on foot. Peering through the undergrowth, Jerome thought he saw a flash of blue-green scales, and then another, of red-gold.
He turned to Snotty, mouth open. “It’s a dragon! More than one!”
Snotty shoved him out of the way for a closer look.
“I’m pretty sure the blue one is that stupid dragon that belongs to Pendragon’s bratty sister… What’s he doing here? He never goes anywhere without his owners. Unless…” He snapped his fingers. “It’s them! They’ve turned themselves into dragons! Well that was a really clever move, Max. The day of the castle’s major dragon hunt…” For a moment he looked quite triumphant, thinking of Max and Olivia trussed up, ready for a special dragon-meat feast. But then his face fell. “We can’t do anything. My lady’s got plans for Pendragon. Wouldn’t do to get in her way. But there’s something funny going on here, that’s for sure. I think we should follow them.”
***
“Oh, where is it, where is it, where is it, where is it…?”
Adolphus was anxiously chasing round in circles by a deep pool of water that appeared to be the source of the small stream they had been following. They were on the lower slopes of a large rocky hill reaching up out of the forest. It was the beginning of the long mountain chain that ran north-west of the castle – Max knew they were called the Windy Mountains, and it was definitely the sort of place dragons liked. But Adolphus was flummoxed by the lack of any obvious cave entrance.
“It was really big! Just here! I know it was…”
“Well, there’s a bit of a crack in the rocks just here,” said Olivia doubtfully, putting one claw into an extremely small gap between two sheer rock faces.
“You couldn't get flea in that, never mind a fully grown dragon,” said Max. “We must have come the wrong way.”
“No, no, no, no, no! It’s here! I know it is!” insisted Adolphus, who started clambering up the rock face and putting his head into small crevices and sniffing around. “I know it’s here… If I can just… Aaaaarrrrggghhh!”
His front claws slipped on the rock and his back legs scrabbled furiously. He tried to use his wings to help, but small s
tones and rocks were hurtling down the hillside around him and he started to slip. There was a grinding sound, and another yell, and then clouds of dust rose up in the air around him. When they settled, Adolphus had vanished. Where he’d been there was a small dark hole in the hillside.
Max peered into it. There was almost sheer rock plunging steadily downwards as far as he could see.
“Are you all right?” he called down the hole.
A very faint cry came from below, but it was impossible to tell if it was a cry for help or of triumph.
“Well, looks like we’re in for another death-defying leap into the unknown,” said Ferocious with resignation in his voice.
“We’ll have to go down there,” agreed Olivia. “Adolphus might be hurt. And besides, it must be the cave we were looking for. We need to get you another cauldron, Max.”
Max peered down the dark hole again and then took a deep breath.
“Yes. Of course. Right then. Here we go.”
He poked one back leg in, then another, then looked back at Ferocious and Olivia with a pained expression and let go. He hurtled downwards and plunged into the depths of the hill, mostly protected by his tough dragon scales but occasionally squealing as a sharp piece of rock dug into his flesh. The steep, rocky slope gradually levelled out as it reached the bottom, and finally Max was deposited, in a tangle of wings and claws and tail, on the sandy floor of a small cavern deep in the hillside. Almost immediately Olivia fell sprawling on top of him, and a second later Ferocious landed with a plop on the sand next to them both.
“Well, could have been worse,” he observed, inspecting his coat and checking his tail carefully. “Seem to have most of my fur, at least.”
The cavern they were in was small and very dimly lit by a glow coming from one corner. Max crept forward to investigate. There was a small opening in the rocky wall of the cavern, and beyond it another great chamber opened out in front of them. Here they could see clearly the source of the dim light.