Weava
the
Wilful
Witch
Titles in the Series
Flax the Feral Fairy
Mal the Mischievous Mermaid
Nanda the Naughty Gnome
Tikki the Tricky Pixie
Effie the Outrageous Elf
Weava the Wilful Witch
Weava
the
Wilful
Witch
Tiffany Mandrake
Illustrated by Martin Chatterton
Little Hare Books
an imprint of
Hardie Grant Egmont
85 High Street
Prahran, Victoria 3181, Australia
www.littleharebooks.com
Text copyright © Sally Odgers 2011
Illustrations copyright © Martin Chatterton 2011
First published 2011
First published in this edition 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Mandrake, Tiffany.
Weava the wilful witch / by Tiffany Mandrake;
illustrated by Martin Chatterton.
1st
978 1 742736 09 9 (epub)
Mandrake, Tiffany. Little horrors ; no. 6.
For primary school age.
Witches—Juvenile fiction.
Chatterton, Martin.
A823.3
Cover design by Martin Chatterton
This product conforms to CPSIA 2008
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Weava the Wilful Witch
Titles in the Series
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
A Note from Tiffany Mandrake
1. Weava Charm
2. Merry
3. Weava Gets an Invitation
4. Weava Makes a Cake
5. Jemima James
6. Battle for the Broomstick
7. A New Idea
8. Merry Snaps
9. Where’s That Wand?
10. Party Time
11. Hubbub
12. Merry Explains
13. I’m Sorry
14. Badge of Badness
A Note from Tiffany Mandrake
About the Author
About the Artist
For all you little horrors out there! (You know who you are…)
—TM
To Libby Volke: after six books it’s about time you got an honourable mention
—MC
A Note from Tiffany Mandrake
Psst, this is me, Tiffany Mandrake, speaking to you from my cosy, creepy cottage in the grounds of Hag’s Abademy of Badness. The Abademy is a place where bad fairies go to study how to be truly bad. It’s not far from where you live, but you probably won’t see it. The fairy-breed use special spells to make sure you don’t.
It is run by three water hags, Maggie Nabbie, Auld Anni and Kirsty Breeks.
The hags started the Abademy because too many fairies were doing sweet deeds.
Sweet deeds are not always good deeds, and the world needs a bit of honest badness for balance. Otherwise, we humans get slack and lazy. The Abademy provides that balance. To enter the Abademy, young fairies must earn a Badge of Badness.
This is the story of Weava Charm, a wilful witchling who was determined to win her Badge of Badness, despite her sister’s best efforts to stop her.
I don’t come into this story at all, but the kit-fae told me about the problems Weava had with her sister, Merry, at Brimstone Buildings. I promised not to tell anyone…but you can keep a secret, can’t you?
Sure you can.
So listen…And remember, not a word to anyone!
1. Weava Charm
‘I’m not coming to Witchmeet,’ said Weava Charm. ‘Who wants to go to a boring get-together for witches for a whole week?’
She waved her wand and a jam-jar lid spun into the air. It screwed itself onto a jar of black-magic jam. Weava smiled and sniffed the scent of blackberries, sugar and magic.
Weava’s dad, Belfry, stared at his daughter. ‘Weava, you love Witchmeet,’ he said. ‘And if you get into that school for bad fairies, this might be the last time we go together.’
‘Witchmeet’s no fun without Merry,’ said Weava, dropping her wand. ‘Everybody just talks about old times.’ Merry was Weava’s elder sister. She had left the village of Wandwood the year before to go to college.
‘But what will you do instead of coming to Witchmeet?’ asked Belfry.
‘I’ll stay with Merry at Wand College,’ said Weava. ‘I haven’t seen her for ages.’ She giggled. ‘Merry is so bad and funny. Remember when she cast that bouncingspell on the jam jars? They smashed everywhere, and she pretended she’d been trying to clean them!’
‘Hmmm,’ said Belfry.
‘And when she pretended to lose her wand and did all her work without magic when she came back last holidays?’ Weava sighed happily.
‘Weava——’ said Belfry.
‘I’ll take some of this jam and we’ll make black-magic cake. I’m going to make one for the Head Hags when I get to the school. What’s it called again? Hags’ Abademy?’
‘Weava!’ said Belfry. ‘I need to tell you something about Merry.’
‘What?’
‘Merry’s not at college,’ Belfry said. ‘She’s…’ He sighed deeply. ‘I should have told you this before. She’s living in the city now.’
‘With humans?’ Weava giggled with delight. ‘That’s even better! We’ll have fun.
I can help Merry bother humans!’ She clattered towards her bedroom in her clunky shoes.
Her dad followed. ‘Weava, you shouldn’t visit Merry just now,’ he said. ‘She’s not herself.’
‘Why not?’ Weava pulled on her new cloak. ‘Where’s my skull buckle?’
‘Use your witchsight to find it,’ said Belfry.*
‘OK.’ Weava reached down and patted her stocking. ‘Dad, where’s my wand?’ She needed her wand to make her witchsight work. ‘I must have dropped it after I used it to screw the lids on the jam jars,’ she said.
Belfry shook his head. ‘Weava, you must be more careful. You know the old saying: Weak is the witch who has lost a wand; she’s sure to sink if she falls in the pond.’
Weava searched the kitchen. ‘Maybe it slid across the floor,’ she muttered. She bent down to feel under the cupboards. ‘Ah, here it is.’
She pulled out the wand and shook off the dust. ‘But…’ She stared at it in surprise. ‘This isn’t mine. It’s Merry’s! Oh, that’s right. She had a new one for college.’
Weava found her skull buckle on the floor nearby, and used it to fasten her cloak. Then she spotted her own wand under the kitchen table and tucked it in her stocking. She thought for a moment, then added the old wand, too. She’d take it to Merry, for a surprise.
* * *
*Witchsight is a special spell witches use when they lose some thing. It makes hidden things easier to find.
2. Merry
That night, Weava sat on her broomstick above the city. Lights twinkled through the streets.
Her sister lived somewhere down below. Weava pulled her wand out of her stocking. ‘Find Merry,’ she said, and used her witchsight. She closed her eyes, waved the wand and pointed it downwards.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was drawn to a tall block of flats.
‘Here I come!’ she whooped, and swooped
in to land.
The sign on the block said Brimstone Buildings.
Weava tucked her broom under her arm and walked through the front door of the building. Still using witchsight, she climbed the stairs to Number 13. The door to the flat was open, so she walked straight in.
Her sister sat at the table, pasting pink labels on pink bottles and stacking them in a long box. Instead of her usual robes, she was wearing a dress with a full skirt and deep pockets.
‘Merry!’ yelled Weava, and dropped her broom. She raced towards her big sister and squeezed her in a bear hug.
Merry’s eyes bulged. ‘What—what are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I’ve come to stay with you. I’ve got lots to tell——ub-oof!’ Weava sneezed. She screwed up her nose. ‘Merry, what’s that horrible smell?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Merry in an odd high-pitched voice.
Weava sniffed. ‘It’s those.’ She pointed to the pink bottles.
‘That’s Candywaft perfume,’ said Merry. ‘It comes in three scents: Meadow Breeze, Mountain Spring and Forest Bloom.’
Weava sneezed again. ‘It’s awful,’ she said, dabbing her eyes with her cloak. ‘I suppose it’s something you magicked up to play tricks on humans!’
Merry’s face went a funny colour. ‘Weava…It’s cool to see you, but it’s really late at night for a visit. Is Dad coming to pick you up soon?’
‘No,’ said Weava. ‘He’s at Witchmeet. Let’s put that stinky stuff outside.’ She waved her wand and sang a little spell.
The box of bottles sailed through the air and disappeared out the front door.
Weava sniffed. ‘That’s better.’
‘Weava, no!’ cried Merry. ‘You mustn’t do silly tricks here!’
‘It’s only a shift-spell. Merry, look what I’ve got for you!’ Weava reached inside her cloak and drew out a jar of black-magic jam and Merry’s old wand. She put the jam on the table and held out the wand to her sister.
Merry took the wand and dropped it on the table. ‘I don’t want that.’
‘But you could use it as a spare. I thought I’d lost mine earlier and——’
‘I don’t need a spare wand. I don’t need one at all. I got rid of my other one,’ said Merry loudly. She put the wand in a drawer under a table in the lounge room.
‘But, Merry! You’ve got to have a wand! You’re a witch.’
Merry bit her lip. ‘Listen, Weava. You are not to talk about witches or spells or brooms or wands around here. It makes you sound crazy.’
‘Huh?’ said Weava.
‘It’s nonsense,’ said Merry. ‘Can’t you see that? I know Dad likes to play at magic, but it’s silly and dangerous.’ She chewed a fingernail. ‘That’s why I left stupid Wand College. I didn’t belong there. I’m much happier in the city. I have this flat, and a job, selling Candywaft perfume. I even have human friends.’
‘But——’
‘I’m living in the real world,’ said Merry. ‘Not some silly magic game.’
‘Magic isn’t silly,’ said Weava. ‘I’m going to a school for bad fairies soon.’
‘You’re going where?’ said Merry.
‘It’s called Hags’ Abademy of Badness,’ said Weava. ‘I’m waiting for my invitation.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Merry. ‘Of course you’re not going to a school for bad fairies.’ The clock struck eleven and Merry jumped. ‘Oh dear, it’s so late,’ she said. ‘I have to be at work early tomorrow. It’s time you went home.’
‘But I’m not going home,’ said Weava. ‘I’m staying with you.’
Merry started to protest. But then she stopped and stared at Weava. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘You can stay. I’ll arrange everything.’
‘Arrange what?’ asked Weava, puzzled.
‘Everything,’ said Merry. ‘But now it’s bedtime.’
She led the way into a tiny spare bedroom and closed the curtains, shutting out the night.
Then she gave Weava a hug, and said, ‘Goodnight, Weava. It’s lovely to see you again, in spite of everything.’ She went out, closing the door behind her.
Weava took off her cloak and hat, and put them in a pile with her shoes. Then she climbed into bed in her purple petticoat, and slipped her wand under her pillow. She had an odd, empty feeling in her tummy and it wasn’t just because she hadn’t had any supper.
3. Weava Gets an Invitation
Weava lay in bed, worrying about Merry.
Why was Merry trying to live like a human? What was she doing, selling that silly smelly perfume?
Sighing, Weava rolled over. Eventually, she went to sleep.
A little later, she woke with a start. Something was scratching on the window.
Weava got out of bed and opened the curtains, but all she saw was her own reflection.
She opened the window and something sprang into the room. The thing landed on her pillow and gave itself a few licks. It looked like a small black kitten, about the size of Weava’s hand. It had furry wings and silver claws to match its eyes.
‘Do you know what I am, witchling?’ the thing said.
‘You’re a critter-fae,’ said Weava.
‘Correct. I am the kit-fae. I’m the only one of my kind,’ the creature said. ‘The hags sent me to Witchmeet to find you, but you never turned up.’ It sniffed. ‘I had to use critter-fae-sight to find you. What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see my sister, Merry,’ said Weava. ‘But she’s changed. She’s stopped doing magic.’ A tear trickled down her cheek.
‘This might cheer you up!’ said the kit-fae. From somewhere in its fur it produced a piece of parchment.
Weava stared. ‘Is that my invitation?’ She wiped her eyes on her petticoat. ‘Oooh! You mean I’m going to the Abademy?’ She danced around the room in glee.
‘Not so fast,’ said the kit-fae. ‘You haven’t earned a place there, yet. Read the invitation.’
Weava took the invitation and read the words aloud. ‘Are you a wilful witch? Do you relish being truly troublesome, dreadfully disobedient and mindbogglingly bad? Answer Yes or No.’
Weava beamed at the kit-fae. ‘Yes!’ she said.
More lines appeared. ‘If you answered Yes, you may earn a Badge of Badness and attend the Hags’ Abademy for further badness training.’ Weava danced around the room again.
‘Keep reading,’ said the kit-fae.
‘To qualify for your badge, you must create and perform a new and original act of breathtaking badness. Answer I Will or I Won’t,’ Weava read. ‘I will!’ she said.
More words appeared, and Weava read them out. ‘You have made a wise decision. The kit-fae will guide you.’
Weava twirled around in her petticoat. ‘I have an invitation to apply for a Badge of Badness!’ she whispered. ‘I’m going to the Abademy!’
The kit-fae twitched its fluffy black tail. ‘It sounds as though your sister will try to stop you,’ it said. ‘That will make your task much more difficult. Are you up to it?’
‘I hope so,’ said Weava.
‘Not good enough,’ said the kit-fae. ‘Bad fairies have to be strong and certain.’
‘I can do it,’ said Weava. Then she sighed. ‘I wish Merry was on my side. She used to be so much fun.’
‘Witches who turn their backs on magic can never be truly happy,’ warned the kit-fae.
‘But I want Merry to be happy,’ said Weava. She lifted her chin. ‘I know! Changing Merry back to her proper self can be part of my big bad deed! I’ll do something so bad she’ll have to cast a spell to put things right. That will remind her she’s a witch, once and for all.’
4. Weava Makes a Cake
Early the next morning, Merry tapped on Weava’s bedroom door. ‘Good morning!’ she trilled.
‘Stop trilling,’ said Weava. ‘It makes you sound like a good fairy.’
Merry smiled. ‘Up you get! I’ve cancelled work today so I can keep an eye on you. And guess what? A girl called Jem
ima lives in the flat next door to us. I’m sure the two of you will be friends.’
‘Is she a human?’ asked Weava.
‘What else could she be?’
‘Fairy-breed,’ said Weava. ‘Like you, and me.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Merry. ‘Fairy breed are banned from the flat. We’re both living like humans now.’ She left the room.
Weava got out of bed. ‘Where are my clothes?’ she said.
‘Your sister stole them,’ said the kit-fae. It crawled out of the blankets. ‘She wants you to wear human clothes.’
It nodded towards a pair of shorts and a T-shirt where Weava’s things had been. ‘She’s got a plan to make you live like her.’
‘I’ve got a plan, too!’ said Weava. She grabbed her wand from under her pillow and marched into the lounge room, still wearing her petticoat. ‘Give me my clothes,’ she said to Merry.
‘You’re too old for playing dress-ups,’ said Merry. ‘Have some toast.’
Weava held out her hand. ‘I want my clothes.’
‘I put some proper clothes out for you.’
Weava waved her wand and chanted a truth-tell-spell.
Merry flinched as the spell hit her in the face.
‘Where are my clothes?’ Weava asked again.
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