by C. J. Busby
“So,” said Olivia, as she bit into one of the apples and threw another to Max. “What do you think?”
Max grimaced. “I’ve been trying to work it out. I’m pretty sure it’s something to do with that spell Snotty was planting the other day. The stone he gave me – it’s exactly like the chip of stone that was in the middle of his spell powder. I knew I recognised it but I couldn’t think where I’d seen it before.”
“Do you think that’s what made the connection between your spell and Camelot?” asked Olivia.
Ferocious emerged from Max’s belt pouch and scampered over to the bowl to get himself a nut.
“Of course it’s the connection, pea-brain,” he observed, spitting out a bit of hard shell. “Snotty must have spread them all over the castle – didn’t he say that that was ‘the last one’?”
“Yes, he did,” said Max. “And he also said it had to be against the northernmost wall. I wonder… Maybe he had one in each direction – east, west, north, south. That would be enough to bring the whole castle into the spell. Rotten back-stabbing slimeball!”
They sat for a moment, contemplating Snotty’s complete and absolute treachery. Then Olivia frowned, and threw her apple core in the fire.
“What I don’t understand though, Max, is how you managed to ice the whole of Camelot. Even if the stone was somehow connected to the castle. That’s a bit of a massive spell, isn’t it? You’d need an enormous amount of magic to do something like that, wouldn’t you?”
Max bit his lip. He’d been hoping no one would think of that particular question. It was the aspect of the whole disaster he felt most guilty about. He had known there was something odd about the stone. He had known something big was preventing the icespell from working, and he should have stopped. But he didn’t want to back down in front of Snotty. He was angry, and determined to show off his new-found skill, and he had gone ahead and thrown every ounce of his magic at the jagged grey flint. And he had iced Camelot – the whole castle. It was all his fault.
He looked up and found Olivia watching him still, her eyebrows raised.
“Well, I… er… I did quite a massive spell,” he admitted. “It didn’t work with only a small one – and I thought maybe Snotty was blocking it somehow… But it must have been the fact that I was actually spelling the whole castle.”
Ferocious whistled. “Well blow me down with a dragonfly’s wing, Max. That’s some magic you’ve got there. I thought maybe Morgana had done an increasing spell on the rock or something. But if you did it all yourself, why can’t you take it off?”
Max sighed. “I think it’s because of the connection spell. I’d have to take that off before I could reverse my own spell, and Morgana’s magic is really tricky – not just strong, but almost impossible for anyone else to undo. The only person I know who can unravel her spells is Merlin, and he’s inside the castle.”
There was a silence as they thought about the fact that everyone they would normally rely on for help – Merlin, King Arthur, Sir Bertram, even Lancelot – were all stuck inside the ice mountain. Suddenly Adolphus lifted his head.
“Er – can anyone hear anything?” he said.
They listened. There was a slight rustling in the undergrowth outside the hut. They held their breath, keeping as still as possible. The rustling seemed to be getting nearer, and then it stopped. They sat in silence, staring wide-eyed at each other, waiting to see if there was any more movement. Then, erupting into the stillness with an enormous CRASH, something hurtled through the single window of the hut right into the middle of the floor.
“Aaarrghh! Help! Save me!” shrieked Adolphus as they all scrambled rapidly away from the dark shadowy creature that was flapping noisily around in front of them.
“Quack!” it said loudly. “Got any bread?”
“Vortigern!” exclaimed Olivia. “What on earth? You gave us a real shock! What are you doing here?”
“Followed you,” said the duck happily. “I was going to stick around to see Lady Morgana do her stuff – I like a bit of magic myself – but then I thought, well, Max is quite a magical sort, and Adolphus is my new chum, and you have bread. You do have bread, don’t you?” he added anxiously.
“I do, as it happens,” said Max, laughing. After all the tension, the sudden arrival of the duck had left him feeling rather hysterical. He dug out his pack, and broke off a small piece of one of the rolls left from their picnic. Vortigern gobbled it up, and then bobbed his head in thanks.
“Right then,” he said. “What’s the plan? I mean, seeing as I’m the nearest thing you have to royalty, I’m assuming I’m the leader. So I’d better know the plan.”
Max caught Olivia’s eye and they both grinned. Vortigern was probably the least royal-looking creature you could imagine. But he had a certain bumptious confidence, and he’d made them all feel a lot more cheerful. They could certainly do much worse for a leader.
“We’ve got to find a way to take the spell off Camelot,” said Max. “I can’t do it – I can’t undo Morgana’s magic. And I don’t know anyone who can, except Merlin.”
“Who’s currently deep in the middle of a mountain of ice,” put in Ferocious.
“And we don’t have any horses, or supplies, and Morgana’s three days away from taking over the kingdom,” said Olivia.
“Quack… Tricky,” Vortigern said, then looked over at Adolphus. “Adolphus? You got any ideas for a plan?”
Ferocious snorted, and Max and Olivia tried not to smile. Only someone who didn’t know Adolphus would turn to him for ideas. They all loved him dearly, but there was no doubt that the small dragon was hopelessly dim.
Adolphus bounced up and down happily. A plan! He’d been asked to come up with a plan! He closed one eye, stuck out his tongue, waved his tail, and concentrated very, very hard. Camelot was covered in ice… They needed to get rid of the ice… Umm… He breathed a bit of fire to clear his head and then suddenly he had it! An idea! Ice was very cold, and fire was very hot. They just needed lots and lots of fire. They needed…
“Great-Aunt Wilhelmina!” he shouted triumphantly. “Why don’t we ask Great-Aunt Wilhelmina? She can breath fire at it!”
Ferocious rolled his eyes. “Adolphus, you twit, this is a magic mountain of ice, not a build-up of frost on a cold night. You can’t melt an icespell…”
But Max had jumped up in delight. “You’ve got it, Adolphus, well done, you’re a genius!” he cried. “Great-Aunt Wilhelmina! Of course!”
“Um, sorry?” said Ferocious, taken aback. “You do know fire won’t work, don’t you, Max?”
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Max happily. “It’s not that. It’s that Great-Aunt Wilhelmina is a dragon. A very ancient dragon. And dragons are magical creatures. A dragon as old as Great-Aunt Wilhelmina is bound to know a way to reverse the icespell.”
“Brilliant!” said Olivia. “Well done, Adolphus!”
“Yes, yes,” said Adolphus, excitedly. “Well done me, whoopee, we’re going to see Great-Aunt Wilhelmina again! She’ll melt the icespell! Hurrah!” He flapped his wings and grinned, bouncing joyfully around the hut until he tripped over the basket of wood and crashed into the wall with a thud.
“Umm – ouch,” he said, and sat down looking slightly cross-eyed.
“Right then,” said Vortigern. “That’s the plan. Great-Aunt Wilhelmina, first thing tomorrow. But right now, we all need to get some rest. So off to bed everyone. Quack quack!”
He waddled round, herding them all towards the fire and the spread-out blankets with loud quacks and flapping wings. When they were all settled down, he bobbed his head in approval, then tucked it under his wing and went to sleep.
Olivia opened one eye and grinned at Max.
“Well, we’ve got a leader, and we’ve got a plan. Things are looking up.”
Max nodded. He felt a lot better now they had someone to go to for help. Dragons were hugely magical, although they didn’t start to develop their magic till they were about a hundred, s
o Adolphus had a long way to go. But Great-Aunt Wilhelmina was four hundred and forty-three. He remembered the last time they’d met her, up in Gore, and the power he’d felt in her piercing golden eyes. If anyone could help them sort out the icespell, it was Great-Aunt Wilhelmina.
An Encounter with Snotty Hogsbottom
Olivia woke up early in the morning, cold and stiff. Pale light was filtering through the single window, and every tree outside seemed to have its own orchestra of birds, each competing with the others to be the noisiest. She groaned, and turned to pull the blankets over her head and go back to sleep, but the others were also stirring and soon Vortigern was chivvying them all into getting up.
“Come along, come along, haven’t got all day. Bread first, then we need to set off. Quack quack!” And he waddled outside for a quick splash in the lake. Olivia opened one eye and looked at Max, who was blearily rubbing his face.
“Does Vortigern have to be leader?” she whispered.
Max made a face.
“I’m not sure we’ve got any choice. But anyway, he’s right. We have to get going.”
“Yes, but where to?” asked Ferocious, emerging yawning from a wrinkle of blankets in the corner. “In all the planning last night, I think I must have missed the bit where we actually found out where Great-Aunt Wilhelmina is. For all we know, she’s gone back to Gore.”
“Umm… good point,” said Max, and felt his heart sink. “Adolphus?” he called. “Do you actually know where your great-aunt is?”
Adolphus nodded his head happily and grinned.
“Well, she said… she was going to… she was… umm… I know she told me, but… er… well… no. Not exactly. Sorry!”
“Wonderful,” said Ferocious. “Excellent. Now what?”
At that moment Vortigern waddled back into the hut. He stopped when he saw their downcast faces.
“Quack!” he said. “Cheer up! Time for bread!”
“Vortigern,” said Ferocious. “I don’t care if you are first in line to the throne of the Roman Empire, if you mention bread one more time I will personally bite your beak off.” And he displayed his sharp white teeth.
Vortigern bobbed his head and quacked.
“Not to worry. It’s just I do like a bit of… Well, anyway. Why all the long faces?”
“We don’t know where Great-Aunt Wilhelmina is,” said Max. “So we can’t go and ask her for a reversal spell.”
“Oh, is that all?” said the duck cheerily. “Well that’s okay, then. Because I know exactly where she is.”
“You do?” said Olivia, surprised. “How come you know Great-Aunt Wilhelmina?”
“Well, I did say I like a bit of magic. Always make it a point to introduce myself to any new magic users in the area. And Lady Wilhelmina came down here, oh, must have been a month ago now. As a matter of fact, I showed her the cave she’s staying in now. Down by the sea.”
“Yes, yes,” sad Adolphus happily. “That’s it! By the sea. I knew that’s what she said. Yippee! I remembered!”
“The thing is,” said the duck, thoughtfully, “it’s a bit of a way. Down in the west. Takes me about half a day to fly it… but walking, it could be a couple of days or more. Not sure we can do it on foot and be back before Lady Morgana gets here.”
“Could we get some horses from the castle?” suggested Olivia. “Or – Max! Could you change us into something? Maybe we could be dragons, then we could all fly?”
“Er – no thanks,” said Ferocious swiftly. “Me and Adolphus will go together, won’t we Adolphus? We’re old hands at flying together, eh? Not that I don’t trust you, Max, your new magic without potions is very impressive, but, well, I think I’d rather stay as a rat, this time…”
Max grinned. “It’s all right, Ferocious, I won’t change you into an earwig by mistake. I’m pretty sure I can manage this one, I did it with Merlin.”
“All the same, very kind of you Max, but I’m fine as a rat,” said Ferocious, scampering over to Adolphus and climbing up onto his back.
Max looked at Olivia. “I can change us into something, but we might have to rely on Great-Aunt Wilhelmina to turn us back.”
She took a deep breath.
“We’ve got to get there as quickly as we can, Max. I trust you. Do what you have to.”
Max thought about the long trip west, and decided that it would make more sense to be a bird – much less noticeable than a dragon. Last time he and Olivia had been dragons, they’d nearly been caught in the Castle Gore dragon hunt. He thought about the bird he knew best, the hunting kestrel he and Olivia shared back at Castle Perilous. He thought about the bird’s bright black eyes, her questioning look, her curved beak and mottled reddish-brown feathers and the power in her strong wings. Then he felt for the magic inside him, gathered it up and threw it at himself and Olivia.
BANG!
Suddenly everything seemed brighter, and sharper. He realised that his vision was about a thousand times better, and he could hear the whisper of a small insect scurrying across the wooden floor. At the same time he could feel the power and strength in his shoulder muscles as they flexed his great wings. He looked across at Olivia, and gulped.
She was, like him, a kestrel, and he could tell that she was equally awed at the effects of the transformation. But she was bright pink.
He looked down at himself, and had to laugh. He was also bright pink, with mottled bits of purple.
“Never mind, Max,” said Olivia. “It’s amazing! Much better than being a frog! I feel like I could fly for hours. Race you!”
She swooped out of the hut and rose into the air with short, powerful wingbeats, circling to gain height. Even from a hundred feet up, she could see every tiny detail of the clearing beneath them, every movement of the leaves in the wind, every ripple in the water as a fish rose to take a fly. The sun was coming up, and the day was going to be a sunny one. Simply for the joy of it, Olivia put her beak down and dived, hurtling towards the ground at an incredible speed then pulling up just inches from the surface of the river and gliding gently to a branch overhanging the stone hut.
“Quack!” said Vortigern, and flew up to the branch to join her. “Very impressive. I do like to see magic done, gives me a tingling feeling all through my feathers. Right then, you lot. Are we ready to go?”
***
Max glided along, riding the air currents high above the river, his wings carefully dipping and twisting to keep him level. He looked down, following the progress of a couple of riders gently ambling along the road west from Camelot. Suddenly he stiffened, and focused on them more closely. There was something about the rider in front… Just then, the rider lifted his head, and looked straight up at Max, his pale face and spiky black hair perfectly visible. It was Snotty Hogsbottom.
Max hesitated for a second, and then dived. He was so angry he barely thought what he would do when he got down there, but it had something to do with claws, beaks and wings, and the desired result definitely involved Snotty falling off his horse.
But the riders had seen him coming, and pulled up under a nearby tree. Snotty had his sword out and he was waving it dangerously round his head. Max hovered for a second, then settled on a branch just above the waving sword.
“Back off, Pendragon!” shouted Snotty. “I know it’s you, because I’ve got a direction spell set on you and I’ve been following you all morning. And don’t think you can get away from me – however fast you fly, you’ve still got to wait for that potty duck you’re with, and we’re not going to be far behind you. So don’t think you’re going to be doing any heroic rescuing this time.”
“Er – Adrian?” Jerome said hesitantly, plucking at Snotty’s sleeve. “Are you sure that’s Max? You’re not just ranting at some strange bird, are you?”
“Don’t be such a turnip head, Jerome,” said Snotty dismissively. “I’d recognise that loser anywhere, even if he has turned himself into a bird. Besides, only Pendragon could have turned himself into a pink kestrel.”
Max ground his teeth at his inability to communicate just what he thought of Snotty, but before he could even screech, Snotty looked up and shook his head.
“You know, I never thought you’d actually do it. Lady Morgana has been keeping a close eye on your progress with Merlin, and she said you would – you’d take the bait and you’d do the spell. Turns out she was right, as usual. And she’s only two days away from being queen now, so you’d better watch out. If you show any signs of finding out how to reverse the spell before she gets here, I’ve been given the job of sorting you out… And it will be my pleasure.” He smiled, and his eyes gleamed with malice. “In fact, maybe I’ll just do it anyway, before you get a chance. What do you think, Jerome? Roast kestrel for supper?”
He reached behind for his bow, and had an arrow on the string before Max could blink. Max took off just as he loosed it, and the arrow whistled past his tail feathers as he soared rapidly into the sky, seething with rage.
Snotty Hogsbottom! One of these days he was going to find a way to get even with that slimy no-good poisonous slug’s backside. But in the meantime, he was not going to let Snotty find out where they were going. Drawing on every bit of magic he could mentally lay his hands on while also trying to control his wings, Max flung a misdirection spell out behind him. With any luck, it would at least slow Snotty down while they got a chance to consult Great-Aunt Wilhelmina.
The Dragon’s Cave
It turned out that Vortigern had been a little over-optimistic about the time it would take to get to Great-Aunt Wilhelmina’s cave. Even if they’d flown non-stop it would have been afternoon by the time they got there. As it was, with fairly frequent stops for a rest and a paddle and a lot of catching fish, the sun was low over the horizon when they finally crested the last hill and saw the land give way to endless blue sea.