by C. J. Busby
Max found a scrap of parchment in one of Snotty’s saddlebags and, using a charred stick from the fire, managed to roughly scratch out: Olivia Hogsbottom’s room. Hurry!
“I hope it’s still readable when you get there,” he said, frowning, and rolled it up and tied it on while Adolphus did his best to stand still. “Ferocious? Are you ready?”
The black rat scampered over to Max and nipped him affectionately.
“I’ll make sure we get there and I’ll make sure we find Merlin, don’t you worry. Much as I love your dear father, I don’t think he’d last ten seconds against that le Fay woman. Just you sit tight, and if they get here before us, well, then, spit at them for me, eh, Max?”
Max laughed, shakily, and Ferocious grinned. “That’s the spirit! Come on, Adolphus. We’re off to the castle, quick as your wings will take us!”
He hopped on to Adolphus’s back and dug in with his claws. Adolphus leaped into the air and shot off like a rocket, a streak of blue-green hurtling into the late afternoon sun, with a thin wail of “Maybe not thaat faaaaaaast!” trailing behind him.
Max smiled, and returned to the fire, where he sat hugging his knees and wondering how many seconds he could last against that le Fay woman, if he had to.
The Gagging Spell
Olivia was feeling bored, hungry and just a bit frightened. It wasn’t a good combination. She seemed to have been stuck in Sir Richard’s rooms for hours – certainly right through lunchtime, and probably well into the afternoon. She had tried shouting out of the window and banging on the door, but the window was too high up and there was too much noise and music down below. A couple of times someone had glanced up and seen her, but they’d obviously just thought she was waving at the crowd and they’d waved happily back. As for the door, it was heavy oak and the sound of her fists or even a chair leg on it made no more than a dull, faint thud that was not going to attract anyone’s attention.
“Oh, what’s happening?” she groaned for maybe the twentieth time. Why did she have to be the one stuck here on her own, with all the action happening somewhere else? Never mind having to wait until Lady Morgana got round to coming back and dealing with you, whatever that meant. Oh, why couldn’t she have been the frog and Max the one who had to stay and wait? Where were they? What was happening?
Suddenly she heard footsteps in the corridor outside. She stopped stamping and stood very still, listening. Were they going to stop? Was it Sir Richard – or worse, Morgana? There was no point trying to hide as they knew she was there. All the same, she didn’t like just standing there in the middle of the room. She crept into the small arched recess in the corner and pressed herself against the wall.
The footsteps stopped and there was the sound of a key in the door. Olivia held her breath as the door opened and someone came in.
“Olivia?” came an uncertain voice from across the room. Olivia gave a sigh of relief. It was Sir Richard. He might not be her favourite person in the world but he had the distinct advantage of not being Lady Morgana. She stepped out from the archway and Sir Richard jumped.
“Oh – ah! There you are… Er, I’ve come to let you out.”
“Let me out?” said Olivia in surprise. “But I thought Lady Morgana…”
“Ah, well, yes. She does have plans – but, well, let’s just say I’m not so keen on them, myself. So I thought I’d double back here on my way out and, well, maybe forget to lock the door when I left.”
Sir Richard looked pleased with himself. A little white lie and he could stay in Lady Morgana’s good books and stop any unnecessary unpleasantness occurring in his chambers.
“Fantastic!” exclaimed Olivia. “Thanks. Can I go now?”
“Oh, well, er – not so fast, young lady,” said Sir Richard hurriedly. “There is the little matter of you knowing all our plans I rather think I’m going to have to do a gagging spell on you before you scarper off to Merlin and tell all, eh?”
“A gagging spell?” said Olivia. “What’s that?”
“Neat little trick I learned at Squire School,” said Sir Richard proudly. “I never was much good at magic, but I rather perfected this spell over the years. Helped a lot when there was stuff I really, well, really didn’t want people telling my father” He went all misty-eyed remembering the mischief he’d got up to as a lad, but then shrugged. Never mind that – it was time to gag Olivia.
Sir Richard took a small bag from a nearby cupboard and spilled some grains of purple powder into his hand. Then he muttered a few words and flung the powder over Olivia. She felt a tingling feeling in her ears and on her tongue, but nothing else seemed to happen.
“Is that it?” she said, unimpressed.
“Indeed it is, my dear,” said Sir Richard happily. “Just try to blab now and you’ll find out what that little spell does.”
Olivia was unconvinced, but thought it best to humour him. After all, he was going to let her go free.
“Okay,” she said. “I can feel it working. Can I go now?”
“Yes, yes,” said Sir Richard. “Run along, my dear. It looks like your dragon’s scarpered already – out the window, eh? Probably flapping around in the castle yard. Better go and find it. I’ve got to go now, anyway – I’ve got a long ride to the forest, with my lady.” And he touched the side of his nose with his finger and winked at her.
He really does believe the spell’s going to work, thought Olivia. But he was going to get a shock when she ran straight to Merlin and told him everything. She smiled blandly back at Sir Richard, sidled out of the doorway and sauntered down the corridor looking as innocent as she knew how.
***
Merlin was sitting in his large oak chair with his chin resting on his hands. He had tried everything he could think of to locate the prince, but nothing had worked. It was as if the boy had been spirited out of the castle. Yet Merlin was sure the spell wall enchantments were still working. If he stretched his mind, he could feel them still quietly wrapped around the castle walls. With a sigh he felt again for the enchantments. This time he worked his way slowly round them, testing and feeling with his thoughts, looking for the slightest waver There! Just there! His head snapped up. He sensed the faintest, slightest tremble in the enchantment that told him it had been broken and then cunningly woven back together again to give the illusion of wholeness. Flame and thunder! What sort of wizard was he to have allowed this to happen? There was only one person who could have done it – and he was surprised even she had managed it – but clearly she had. Merlin needed to alert the king immediately. They would have to broaden the search to beyond the castle walls.
Just as he stood up, there was a timid knock at the door.
“Come in,” he called, as he strapped his sword round his waist and prepared to pull his riding boots on.
A slight, dark-haired girl, wearing squire’s clothes, slipped into the room. She looked familiar and Merlin frowned at her, trying to remember.
“Olivia Pendragon, sir,” she said, curtsying.
“Ah, of course! I do beg your pardon. What can I do for you?”
“Well, it’s about the carrot, sir,” said Olivia, then stopped, and looked confused.
“Carrot?” said Merlin, gently.
“Yes!” she said, shaking her head violently. “I need to tell you, the carrot is not a parsnip.” She took a deep breath and started again. “It’s really important! I’m sorry, but I think a custard tart got in my ear. It’s making it hard to bake cakes! Oh!!”
She almost screamed in frustration and stamped her foot on the floor. “You must help. It’s urgent! The carrot is going to be steamed and the lettuce and beans have gone down to the kitchen and – oh, dungballs!!” She stopped, tears of rage and frustration in her eyes, as Merlin leaned down and took her hand.
“It’s all right,” he said, soothingly. “Don’t try to speak. You’ve clearly been put under a gagging spell – I recognise the symptoms. Very frustrating, I know, it’s happened to me before.”
He str
aightened up and looked thoughtful.
“Now, the only reason I can think of for you coming to me, with a gagging spell turning everything you say into gobbledegook, is if you know something about the prince. Is that it?”
Olivia tried hard to nod, but the spell was making her shake her head. The end result was a kind of dizzy corkscrew movement that almost made her fall over.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Merlin grimly. “Now, what are we going to do? I can take the spell off, but it’s a tricky one – sometimes takes hours If they haven’t completely gagged you, it may be that you can write?”
Olivia nodded. Brilliant. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Eagerly she took the parchment Merlin gave her and started to scribble as fast as she could. After a few sentences, she glanced back over what she’d written and nearly cried.
The cook needs to put more salt in the stew because the parsnips taste like old boots and the carrots are as mouldy as a pair of old…
“Oh!!” shouted Olivia, and threw the quill she was holding at the wall. Just as its ink spattered onto the floor, there was a tremendous crash and a small dragon hurtled in through the door, hit the wall and tumbled to the floor in front of them. Immediately he scrabbled to his feet with a wild flapping of wings.
“Sir, sir!” panted Adolphus, and held out his claw with a crumpled piece of parchment tied to it. “Quick! You have to rescue Olivia! And Max! And the prince! Quickly!”
“Adolphus!” shrieked Olivia, as she threw her arms round him, dislodging the large black rat clinging to his back.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Ferocious, grumpily picking himself back up. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine. Just about had my whiskers blown out by the wind as we flew here and all my fur’s sticking out the wrong way, but never mind. Knock me flying why don’t you, just to finish off the journey nicely.”
“Ferocious, don’t be such a grump,” said Olivia, fondly, stroking his fur down the right way. She turned to Merlin, who had taken the parchment and was reading it.
“This is Adolphus,” explained Olivia, glad that the spell didn’t seem to affect what she said, so long as it was not about the prince. “My dragon. And Ferocious – Max’s rat. They were with Max when he went” She stopped. “Oh, what’s the point? I’ll just end up telling you they went to the dung heap to pick some bluebells!”
“The note says that you need rescuing from ‘Hogsbottom’s Room’. Is that where you were?” Olivia nodded. Merlin looked thoughtful. “And the dragon has just come from Max and the prince?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then I think we had better get there as soon as we can. Ferocious can give me the details as we ride.”
“You can understand them?” said Olivia, surprised.
Merlin smiled. “Having once been an animal has that effect, as you have found – and Max is not the only young wizard to have discovered a spell to do that. But we need to hurry, it sounds as if a rescue operation is needed. And I think we should all go together – for the moment, you will be safer with me than in the castle.”
“Yes, yes!” said Adolphus, flapping around the room. “We need to go! Quickly! Or they’ll get to Max before we do! Quick! Quick! Quick!”
A True Knight
It was starting to get a little chilly in the small hut in the forest. The late afternoon sun hardly penetrated the thick forest canopy and the fire Adolphus had started was dying down. There was no more wood in the hut and Max didn’t really want to leave the prince and look for more outside. He shivered.
“How long do you think they’ve been gone?” he asked the prince.
“It feels like ages,” said Cael, throwing himself backwards on the bed and trying to wriggle his legs. “I wish I could walk! At least we could go and hide somewhere!”
“I’m not sure it would do any good,” said Max gloomily. “Lady Morgana’s a witch, she’d find us instantly.”
“Well you’re a wizard, aren’t you? Can’t you make us invisible? Or something even better? Can’t you turn us into dragons?”
“I’m not really a wizard,” said Max, with a sigh. “I’m just learning.”
There was a muffled noise from the corner, where Snotty was wriggling violently on the floor and trying to speak. He had come to a few minutes before, but so far Max had ignored him, apart from checking that the gag and ropes binding him were secure. Max glanced in his direction and wondered whether to throw a sack over his head. Snotty tried hard to say something. It sounded suspiciously like, “Undo me, you pea-brained pile of dragon’s dung.”
Max raised his eyebrows at Snotty.
“Temper, temper!” he said while Snotty writhed angrily and kicked the side of the hut. “Keep quiet or I’ll turn you into a frog.”
Snotty looked sceptical.
“I can, you know,” said Max. “You wait till the competition tomorrow, then you’ll see!”
Except there probably won’t be a competition tomorrow, thought Max gloomily. Or if there was, he wouldn’t be there, because he’d have been chopped into small pieces by Morgana and fed to the forest wolves… What a waste of all that frogspell potion he’d brewed up.
Wait a minute! Frogspell potion! It was in his pouch! It had been there all along, ever since Merlin’s rooms when he’d given a drop to Olivia and put the bottle in his pouch. What a dung-brain not to have thought of it before! Quickly he felt around for it, and then drew the small blue glass bottle out in triumph. It was unharmed – and still three-quarters full.
“Ha! Eat dirt, Snotty! Because this will turn you into a frog quicker than you can say ‘Max is a genius’ if you so much as think about whispering any more insults!”
Snotty made a face, but Max noticed that he stopped wriggling and didn’t try to say anything either. Max grinned. That had shut Snotty up, anyway. But better than that – he now had something he could use if Sir Richard and Lady Morgana turned up. The question was, should he use the potion to turn himself and the prince into frogs, so they could hide – or should he use the spell against them?
Max sat down slowly by what was left of the fire, holding the blue bottle of frogspell potion and thinking hard. If he turned himself and Cael into frogs, they had a good chance of escaping, and Merlin would be able to change them back with a wave of his hand when he arrived. If he arrived. But then there was the chance they would get caught by Morgana anyway – and Max really didn’t fancy being a frog if that happened.
The alternative was to try to turn Sir Richard and Lady Morgana into frogs when they arrived – but Max was just an eleven-year-old apprentice wizard with one small potion bottle and Lady Morgana was the most powerful enchantress in the land. For all Max knew, the spell wouldn’t even work on her, or she might whip it out of the air by magic and send it hurtling back towards him. Max shuddered, remembering her pale eyes, honey voice and icy, tinkling laughter. But then he thought about the last time he had gone to his father and asked not to be a knight because he was rubbish at swordplay.
“Being a knight isn’t about how good you are with a sword, Max,” Sir Bertram had said, holding him by the shoulders and looking at him seriously. “Being a knight is about facing up to your fears, sticking up for others even if you’re scared, doing your best even when you think you’re no good. Even wizards need to be a knight first and foremost. And I know you can be a good knight, Max. I know you’ve got it in you.” Then he had slapped Max on the back so hard he nearly sent him flying and told him to “get out there and give them hell.” So Max, inspired, had climbed back on his horse and whacked at the practice dummy so hard that he would have sliced its head off with one blow if his horse hadn’t shied at the last minute so that he fell off instead.
Remembering this conversation now, Max smiled. He knew what Sir Bertram would have said to his dilemma. Max sighed, and went to find a good place to hide near the door of the hut.
***
“I don’t know what can have happened to Adrian, my lady,” apologised Sir Richard, s
weating inside his heavy riding cloak. Drat the boy! Where was he? Why weren’t the horses here? Had they made it through the forest?
“It does seem rather – inefficient – Sir Richard,” said Lady Morgana in her low, sweet voice. “But no matter. I’m sure they’ll be here in good time. Perhaps we should wait in the hut?”
“Of course, my lady, splendid idea. If you’ll just permit me to take your hand?” Take her hand! thought Sir Richard, over the moon. Him! Holding the arm of the most powerful woman in the whole kingdom! He was really on the way up! He chortled happily to himself as they crossed the threshold together.
His eyes had barely taken in the sight of Snotty, lying tied up and gagged on the stone floor of the hut, when he was hit in the face by a blob of blue gunk. The next thing he knew, the room had gone all shivery and strange, and he was suddenly very much shorter than usual. Next to him was what seemed like an unnaturally large, acid-green frog with violently puce spots, looking as angry as he had ever seen a frog look. A second later, there was a pop! and the frog disappeared.
“Phew!” said Max, sitting down suddenly on the stone floor of the hut. “I’m glad that’s over.”
The single remaining frog, a sludgy brown one with orange spots, croaked at him reprovingly.
“Max Pendragon,” it said in a deep frog voice. “I am very disappointed in you. Turning respectable grown-ups into frogs! I think I might have to have words with your father. Turn me back this instant!”
“Not likely,” muttered Max. He scooped the frog up and put it in his belt pouch, where he couldn’t hear it croaking any more, and then turned to the prince.
“Well, your highness. It looks like we’re safe now. We just have to wait for Merlin to arrive.”
“That was brilliant,” said Cael, wide-eyed.
Max grinned. “Yes, it was pretty cool, wasn’t it?” he said happily.
***