It was intoxicating, a sickly sweet scent that clogged his nose and throat. He looked round and saw the culprit, a large bunch of flowers in the sink.
“Where did those come from?” Edwin pointed at the flowers, pinching his nose as he spoke.
“Huh?” Jane had almost dozed off again. “Oh, they arrived this morning with the letter.”
Edwin frowned. “I didn’t see any flowers.”
“They were just seeds at the time.” Jane gestured to an empty sachet on the table. “I added them to water like the instructions said, and they’ve grown that big in less than an hour. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Still pinching his nose to keep out the smell, Edwin walked to the sink and examined the flowers. He wasn’t an expert botanist, but reckoned he could identify most native plant species. And these were definitely not native; with their thick hairy stems, large pink petals and bulbous seedpods, they looked more like something from another planet.
“Flowers don’t normally grow that quick,” he pondered. “Do you know what species they are?”
“I’ve never seen their like before.” Jane remained seated, gazing fondly at the flowers. “They certainly have a distinctive scent.”
“They stink.” Edwin leaned past the flowers to open the window, but the latch was jammed.
“I should get round to putting them in a vase,” said Jane.
“The dustbin would be better,” grumbled Edwin, abandoning his attempt to open the window.
“Only I’m too tired right now.” Jane yawned again, and her head lolled forwards.
“Mum!” Edwin hurried back to the table and clapped his hands. “Wake up. It’s Saturday.”
“Wha?” Jane’s curly auburn head jerked up again. “Saturday?”
“I thought we could do something. Maybe go for a hike. I’ve spotted a footpath on a local map that I’d like to check out.”
“I’m too tired for walking,” groaned Jane.
“Or we could take a trip into town to the local museum. They’ve got a special exhibition of iron age pottery.”
“That’s lovely.” Jane closed her eyes. “Just the thing to keep me awake.”
“Or maybe... Mum?” Edwin waved a hand in front of Jane’s face. “Are you even listening? Mum!”
Jane slumped forwards, her head resting on the kitchen table.
Edwin tapped her shoulder, but the only response from Jane was the sound of gentle breathing.
“Fine.” Edwin scowled at his mother. “But if you’re too tired, I’ll go play with my friends instead.”
Edwin turned on his heel and marched from the kitchen. He was halfway down the hallway when he realised there was a slight problem.
He didn’t have any friends.
Apart from one.
Edwin delved into his shirt pocket to retrieve a small bundle of fur and whiskers. Stubby was a mouse, and went everywhere Edwin went, although he did complain about it from time to time.
“Now what?” demanded Stubby, his voice sharp with irritation. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Busy?” Edwin couldn’t help but laugh. “How can a mouse be busy?”
“Mice are always busy. Unlike humans, who seem to spend most of their time doing precious little of any importance.”
“You don’t look busy. What are you actually doing?”
“Mousey stuff,” said Stubby, who looked a little bleary eyed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
But Edwin realised the truth. “You were sleeping.”
“It’s called ‘power napping’. And only clever mice can do it.”
“So now you’ve had a rest, I was wondering if you’d like to do something fun with me.”
Stubby peered at Edwin through his long twitching whiskers. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Something fun. You know. Enjoyable.”
“I’m familiar with the concept of entertaining recreational activities,” sniffed Stubby. “It’s the bit about you being involved that I’m struggling to get my head round. In my experience the two things seldom go together.”
Edwin should have been used to Stubby’s insults by now, but that one hurt.
“I won’t take up much of your time,” he promised. “We could just talk, if you like.”
Stubby yawned. “I’d sooner talk to a brick wall. After it had collapsed on me under an advancing steamroller. Now please return me to my office, I have some very urgent mouse matters to attend to.”
Edwin doubted that. “You mean you’re going back to sleep.”
“My office.” Stubby pointed to Edwin’s shirt pocket. “And no callers, please.”
Edwin slipped Stubby back into his pocket. Seconds later, a tiny “DO NOT DISTURB” sign poked out of the top.
Edwin sighed. So Stubby didn’t want anything to do with him either.
But that didn’t mean he was all out of options. Being a Guardian of Wychetts meant he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, as long as he obeyed the magic rules.
So if Mum and Stubby didn’t want to have fun with him, he’d have fun all by himself. All it needed was for him to make a wish, and he could have the most fun filled day of his entire life.
So Edwin wished.
Oddly, nothing happened.
He tried wishing again, but still nothing happened.
He modified his wish slightly, just in case there was a limit on the amount of fun you could wish for in one go.
But still nothing happened.
There was no magic!
Edwin wondered if he’d end up talking to a brick wall after all. In any case, he’d need to start with the fireplace.
He ran into the lounge, looking expectantly at the bestial face carved in the wooden beam above the fireplace. Inglenook’s eyes were closed, and Edwin assumed the Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom was deep in thought on some important magical matter.
“Ahem.” Edwin coughed. Even now, after so much time as a Guardian, he still wasn’t sure how to request Inglenook’s attention.
A cough didn’t seem to work, so Edwin tried a different tack.
“Excuse me.”
Still no response.
“It’s me.” Edwin shuffled closer to the fireplace. “Edwin.”
Those wooden features remained stubbornly wooden.
“Hello.” Edwin reached up and tapped Inglenook’s nose. “Is anybody there?”
At last Inglenook’s features came to life. Except it wasn’t the jolly smile Edwin had been expecting, more an irritated frown. And when he spoke, the normally cheery voice was oddly slurred…
“Oh. It is you, Young Master.”
“Yes, it’s me.” Now Edwin was the one frowning. “Are you all right?”
“Apologies. I was just having a little nap.”
“You too?” Edwin couldn’t believe it. “It must be the weather.”
“Weather. Probably.” Inglenook was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Now what is it you wish of me?”
“I need some magic,” said Edwin. “Right away, please.”
Inglenook sighed. “Not more pastry on the kitchen ceiling? Or have you tried to bake more currant buns in the dishwasher?”
“It was the washing machine,” Edwin corrected his mentor. “And they were supposed to be cheese scones.”
“Then what were the currants?”
“Bits of fluff,” admitted Edwin. “From my stepdad’s socks. Anyway it doesn’t matter now. I need magic for other stuff. Fun stuff.”
“Fun stuff?”
“Yeah, you know…” Edwin couldn’t understand why he had to explain himself so much that morning. “Entertaining recreational activities.”
“Hmm…” Inglenook made a disapproving sort of noise. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough energy to grant any magic wishes. I am feeling rather tired at the moment. The past few weeks have been most strenuous.”
“Tell me about it,” said Edwin. “But I’m not asking for much. Just a little bit of magic so I can have some fun.
”
“I would be most happy to oblige…” Inglenook paused to yawn. The whole cottage trembled, and Edwin feared the ceiling might collapse. “But perhaps you would be kind enough to ask me later, after I have rested a little more.”
“OK,” agreed Edwin. “How much later?”
Inglenook had closed his eyes, so Edwin resorted to tapping him on the nose again.
“I said how much later?”
Inglenook’s eyes snapped open. “Oh, just a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?”
“Three or four.”
“Four?”
“Perhaps five.”
“Five days?” Edwin was horrified. “But Bryony will be back by then. Surely you can do some magic now?”
“Too tired.” Inglenook yawned again. “Haven’t felt this sleepy for a long time.”
“It’s definitely the weather. I’ll let some air in.”
He tried the lounge window, but found the latch was stuck. Just like in the kitchen.
“Inglenook.” Edwin returned to the fireplace. “Why are all the windows jammed?”
“Wychetts is an old timber framed building, and the woodwork is prone to warping.” Inglenook struggled to keep his eyes open. “Now if you will excuse me, I just… need… a little… nap.”
Inglenook’s face turned back to wood, and the cottage fell silent.
Edwin’s shoulders slumped with despair. Even the fireplace didn’t want to talk to him. All options exhausted, he was tempted to strike up a conversation with the floor, but wasn’t sure if he could handle any further rejection.
Suddenly it felt like he was the only person in the entire world. Whilst Edwin contemplated life as the sole survivor of the human race, and in particular how long his stockpile of homemade party food might last, he heard strange noises from somewhere above him…
A thud followed by frantic scraping.
Edwin lifted his head to inspect the wonky-beamed ceiling. The scraping seemed to be moving in the direction of the chimneybreast. Intrigued, he bent down and peered up the chimney.
He recoiled when something landed on his face. To his relief, it was nothing more than a clump of sooty cobwebs.
Edwin laughed, wiping the debris from his cheek. It was probably just some birds trying to build a nest. Nothing to worry about.
He was about to turn away from the fireplace when a loud booming noise echoed through the house. A pile of rubble crashed down the chimney, sending an eruption of soot and goodness knows what else spewing from the hearth. Edwin staggered back, coughing and gasping as the room filled with billowing clouds of dust.
Then there was silence again.
Edwin stood there, glimpsing movement in the swirling dust clouds.
At first he thought it was a trick of the light. But then a voice pierced the sooty haze...
“Hello Edwin.”
It was a voice he knew from somewhere, but the air was still too dusty for him to identify the figure that came clambering out of the fireplace.
“Don’t you remember me?” asked the voice. “Oh Edwin, I am disappointed. I thought we were friends.”
Suddenly the dust cleared, and Edwin saw a girl standing in front of him.
She was about his own age, and of similar height. She wore old-fashioned thick-rimmed glasses, and a bright purple dress. And her hair was a lurid shade of green.
“Maddy?” Edwin’s mouth hung open. “Malady Maddergrub!”
“So you do remember.” The green haired girl grinned. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping in?”
3 Always Trouble
“You dropped in all right,” said Edwin, staring at the rubble-strewn hearth.
“Sorry about the mess.” Maddy wiped stringy trails of cobweb from her sleeve. “But knocking on a front door is not how I roll.”
“What are you doing here?” Edwin finally got round to closing his mouth, and coughed as he swallowed a helping of dust.
“I heard there was a party.” Maddy gestured at her purple dress. “And I’m such the party girl.”
“There’s no party.” Edwin spread his arms. “Does it look like there’s a party?”
Maddy’s green eyebrows knotted. “But it’s Bryony’s birthday?”
“She’s gone away. And… hey, how did you know it’s Bryony’s birthday?”
Maddy answered Edwin’s question with one of her own. “What do you mean she’s ‘gone away’?”
“It’s a long story.” Edwin was in no mood to start explaining everything to Maddy. “But the party’s cancelled.”
“We can still have a party.” Maddy started dancing. “Just the two of us.”
“I don’t do dancing.” Edwin shrank away from Maddy when she tried to take his hand. “I think you’d better leave.”
“But I’ve come all this way to see you. And we’re friends.”
“That’s not what you said the last time we met.” Edwin remembered Maddy’s parting words. “You said we could never be friends.”
“Did I?” Maddy looked genuinely mystified. “I thought we parted on good terms.”
“Not exactly. You trapped me down a hole and left me to rot.”
“That was just my little way of breaking the ice.” Maddy shrugged. “I’ve always been clumsy expressing positive emotions towards acquaintances.”
“You tricked me,” countered Edwin. “You only wanted to know me so you could get hold of the Tome Terriblis.”
“I would never have left you to rot. And I only wanted the Tome to get my family back.” Maddy lifted a satchel she’d been holding behind her back. “They’re in here, thanks for asking.”
Edwin bit his lip. He’d forgotten about the Maddergrub family, who had all been turned into paintings many hundreds of years ago. It was Maddy herself, using the power of the Tome Terriblis, who had committed this awful deed; but she had never meant it to be permanent, and when a renegade warlock attacked Maddergrub Manor to claim the magic Tome, Maddy had been forced to abandon her family and flee to the future.
“Sorry.” Edwin muttered an apology. “But it would be better if you left right now.”
“Oh come on,” said Maddy. “Don’t pretend you’re not pleased to see me.”
Edwin was caught off guard. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, there was part of him that was pleased to see Maddy again. Even after everything that happened on their previous encounter.
“And let’s face it,” continued Maddy, “it’s not like you’ve got loads of friends to hang out with.”
“I’ve got Stubby,” countered Edwin.
Maddy pointed to the little sign protruding from Edwin’s shirt pocket. “Doesn’t look like he’s got much time for you right now.”
“Please go.” Edwin pointed to the door. “I need to clear this mess up before my mum finds out.”
Maddy stepped to one side. Behind her the hearth was spotless; not a cobweb, misplaced brick, or speck of soot in sight.
Edwin blinked, then gave Maddy a suspicious look. “How did you…?”
“How do you think?” giggled Maddy. “Magic, of course.”
Edwin’s lips formed a perfect circle. “You can do magic like that?”
“It wasn’t just me. I had some help from wooden chops over there.” Maddy nodded at Inglenook.
“Wychetts’ magic?” Edwin frowned. “But you’re not a Guardian.”
“I’m a Maddergrub. A descendant of the Wise Ones. And I trained to be a Guardian of Wychetts.”
“But you flunked your tests and stole the Tome Terriblis.” Edwin waved an admonishing finger at Maddy. “So you don’t deserve to be a Guardian.”
Maddy’s lips tightened. “I only borrowed it. I was going to give it back. I didn’t know that…”
“Inglenook!” Edwin shouted at the fireplace. “Inglenook!”
“What are you doing?” said Maddy.
“If I can’t make you leave, maybe someone else can.” Edwin walked up to the hearth and yelled at the carved wood
en face. “Inglenook, wake up!”
“Don’t disturb him,” hissed Maddy. “He can be terribly crotchety if you disrupt his naps.”
“Hey there!” Edwin rapped his knuckles on Inglenook’s wooden cheek. “Wake up, please.”
Those wooden eyes opened a fraction, and a deep slurred voice filled the room. “What is it, Young Master?”
“It’s Maddy,” blurted Edwin. “Malady Maddergrub. She’s gate-crashed Bryony’s party.”
“But I didn’t use the gate,” pointed out Maddy. “I came down the chimney.”
“Tell her to leave,” Edwin ordered Inglenook. “She’ll only cause trouble.”
“Trouble, yes.” Inglenook’s voice faded, and his eyes closed again. “Always… trouble…”
“Inglenook!” Edwin yelled at the carved wooden face. “Please wake up!”
But Inglenook was already asleep again.
“See?” Maddy smirked at Edwin. “He’s fine with me being here.”
“But I’m not.” Edwin pointed at the door again. “Please go.”
“But what if there’s an emergency? Wychetts will be safer with two Guardians at home.”
“The only emergency around here is you. You’re a walking emergency. Now…”
Then Edwin caught a smell, a syrupy sweet sickly scent.
“Go,” he urged, trying not to inhale too deeply. “There’s no emergency.”
“Then what’s that?” Maddy was also pointing at the door.
Edwin looked, and saw a bright pink mist seeping into the room from under the door.
“Inglenook?” He looked questioningly at the fireplace, but the Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom still had his eyes shut.
The pink mist spread out in curling tendrils, reminding Edwin of a plant. And as that sickly sweet smell grew ever stronger, he realised there might be a connection.
“The flowers!” Hand clasped over his nose and mouth, Edwin hurried out of the lounge and down the hallway. The pink mist thickened, and he had to feel his way along the walls until he reached the kitchen.
“Mum? Are you there?” He couldn’t see through the dense pink veil, and there was a clatter as he knocked over a kitchen chair. “Mum! Where are you?”
Wychetts and the Dungeon of Dreams Page 2