by C. J. Busby
When Merlin and the others arrived at the hut in the forest, Max had collected enough wood to get the fire roaring and brewed up a whole cauldron of spiced apple juice. He and Cael were sitting happily by the fire munching the rest of Snotty’s supplies and telling bad jokes.
“Well, well,” said Merlin as he crossed the threshold. “It appears we are rather too late for doing any rescuing. You seem to have rescued yourselves pretty thoroughly.”
“Max was amazing!” said Cael, jumping up and staggering over to hug Merlin. His legs were still not quite right, but the spell was wearing off fast. “He punched the big boy and then turned the grown-ups into frogs! He’s a really good wizard, Merlin. Even better than you!”
Max swallowed and went pink. But he didn’t have time to protest because Olivia hurled herself at him and gave him a huge bear hug and Ferocious scampered over and nipped his ankles affectionately. Meanwhile, Adolphus flapped around their heads getting his feet and wings tangled up in his excitement.
“You’re okay, Max, you’re okay! I’m so glad! We had no idea what had happened!” exclaimed Olivia when she had enough breath. “I can’t believe you sorted out Sir Richard and her! You must have been terrified!”
“Oh it was nothing,” said Max airily, but then he caught Merlin’s piercing grey eyes and decided he had better be truthful. “Actually, I was terrified,” he admitted.
“And so you should have been,” said Merlin. “Morgana le Fay is an extremely dangerous and powerful sorceress. You did very well to deal with her as successfully as you obviously have. I presume she – ah – disappeared after you changed her?”
“Yes, there was a sort of pop and she was gone. But I’ve got Sir Richard in my belt pouch.”
Merlin laughed, a rich, warm and infectious laugh that they all found themselves joining in with, and then clapped Max on the shoulder.
“Well done, Max, really! A most extraordinary spell, and you showed real bravery to see it through. It takes a special sort of magic to brew up a frogspell potion, most rare and unusual – I am glad to see the ability goes with a good heart and courage as well. You’ll make a fine wizard, my boy, very fine indeed!”
Max felt warm all over at the praise, but looking up at this fierce, tall knight, so unlike the Merlin he’d imagined, he knew that he had to be honest.
“Actually,” he said. “I didn’t exactly make the frogspell, it was more of an accident And I only knocked Snotty over by accident too. And I had my eyes closed when I threw the potion at Lady Morgana. If I’d had them open I’d probably have missed.”
Merlin looked down at Max gravely, and then smiled. “Max – you are very honest. But it’s not just the ingredients that make a frogspell. It may have been an accident to start with, but only a very powerful sort of magic will make it work. And if you did knock this young squire over by accident, or hit my lady by accident, you did so because you were standing up to them in the first place – which takes a good deal of courage. I think you have a most unusual sort of magic, and a good heart, Max Pendragon, and I shall watch your next ‘accident’ with interest.”
Max looked up at Merlin’s bright eyes and hawklike face and suddenly felt six feet tall. He knew he would follow Merlin to the end of the world if he could. He grinned, and Merlin clapped him on the shoulder again.
“Still,” he sighed. “There is little doubt that my lady is long gone, and will certainly have a very good alibi prepared for her part in this. And unfortunately, she is likely to get away with it. The king has a very forgiving heart where that lady is concerned. Too forgiving, I fear,” he added, looking grim.
Then he smiled at them all and said, “Right! Enough standing around. I think it’s time we headed back to the castle. We need to take this princeling back to his mother, and while we’re at it, we’d better take this well-trussed up young man and his befrogged father to the king!”
The Spell-Making Competition
Sir Bertram Pendragon was happier than he had been in a long time. Happier even than he’d been when he pushed his worst enemy, Sir Richard Hogsbottom, in the castle duck pond after a particularly heated game of ‘Who Can Spit Furthest’. He couldn’t get enough of the story of how Max and Olivia had between them foiled the plot to kidnap the Cornish prince, especially the bit where Max felled Sir Richard’s ghastly son Adrian with a knockout punch. The story had been carefully edited, to leave out all mention of magic, frogs, Lady Morgana or the fact that it had taken place so far away. Sir Bertram was rather under the impression that Max and Olivia had come across Snotty guarding the prince in an old cellar somewhere, and that was the way King Arthur wanted it left.
“I am most grateful to Max and Olivia,” he’d said gravely, when Sir Bertram had arrived to collect his children late in the afternoon before. “They have helped us avoid a major embarrassment. But I’m afraid their exploits must stay a secret. There are too many enemies who would like to make something of this. If it were known I had almost failed to keep Cael safe…” He sighed, and his blue eyes clouded over for a second, then he shrugged. “But let’s try not to think of that. The prince is now happily with his mother and none the worse for his adventure. Merlin has made sure that all he remembers is wandering off to play with Max and Olivia. As for Sir Richard” Arthur grimaced. “He has been sent to a post in the northern marches of the kingdom, out of trouble. He, his son and his ward, Jerome, are leaving this afternoon. And there’s no trace of the unknown witch they say was behind it all.”
“Well, she’s not that far away—” began Olivia, but Arthur stopped her with a look and put his fingers on his lips. He looked so careworn and sad that Olivia wanted to give him a hug, but didn’t quite dare.
“Cael’s been found, and that’s what matters,” said Arthur. “We must just put it behind us, and be more careful in future.” Then he turned to Max and Olivia, and smiled warmly. “My heartfelt thanks to my two newest members of court,” he said, and they each felt a burst of pride and happiness travel from their head to their toes as he looked at them. Max felt he could understand why King Arthur’s knights all adored him so much. But he could see Merlin looking grim, nearby, and remembered his words about the king being too forgiving. Arthur had accepted Morgana’s well-prepared alibi, firmly backed up by Sir Richard and Snotty. He had decided that Max and Olivia must have been mistaken, and it had been some other mysterious witch behind the plot, who had apparently bespelled Sir Richard and his son into helping her. So Lady Morgana was still at court. Max wondered how much more trouble would come from the king’s stubborn belief in those he loved…
Sir Bertram, however, was as happy as a dragon with a mountain of gold.
“Max, my boy! I’m so proud of you!” he burst out at regular intervals, clapping his son on the shoulder heartily. “I knew you had it in you! Straight upper cut to the chin, was it, eh?”
“Er, not exactly,” said Max, who had tried to explain that it was more of a knockout push than a knockout punch, but Sir Bertram didn’t really care.
“Takes a lot of guts to stand up to a bigger boy,” he’d said, solemnly. “I’m glad to know that you will stand up for what’s right, and I’m prouder of you and Olivia than you can possibly know. And besides,” he’d added, rubbing his hands with glee, “It’s certainly one in the eye for old Hogsbottom, eh? Ha! He looked like a scarecrow with all the straw taken out of him when he left yesterday. ‘How’s Adrian?’ I said. He looked like he wanted to kill me! Ha, ha! And now he’s going to be stuck up in the northern marches, guarding a swamp. Nothing there but mud and slime and marshes! Serves him right!”
Max had been enjoying the praise and attention all morning. Even more so when he started noticing Olivia pretending to be sick every time Sir Bertram mentioned the knockout punch again – which he did about every five minutes. But his enjoyment was gradually being replaced by nerves as the time for the Novices’ Spell-Making Competition approached.
Despite all the nice things Merlin had said about his rare and u
nusual magic, if Max couldn’t persuade his father that he should train as a wizard, he wouldn’t get much of a chance to do anything with it. Punching Snotty Hogsbottom had unfortunately made Sir Bertram even more convinced Max would make a fine knight after all. It had made it even more important for Max to show what a great wizard he could be. He needed something big and impressive. He needed to show Sir Bertram that magic was as good as punches. He still needed to win the Novices’ Spell-making Competition.
***
In all the bustle of the morning, Max and Olivia had had no time to get together and practise their act for the competition. It was almost time and Max was hurriedly preparing his robes and spell bottles.
“Olivia?” he called across from the corner of their chambers where he was half buried under a pile of cloaks and saddlebags. “Where’s the antidote bottle?”
“How should I know?” said Olivia. “You had it last. It’s probably in your pouch.”
“No it isn’t,” said Max in frustration. “I’ve got the frogspell bottle, but the other one’s disappeared…”
“That’ll be good then,” said Ferocious. “Turn her into a frog, can’t turn her back. Marvellous. Should definitely win with that one.”
“Actually,” said Max, turning to Ferocious. “I can turn her back. Or rather, you can. I think I must have left the antidote in the forest, but I’ve just had a fabulous idea. I could just make some smoke on stage and then you could use it as cover to sneak out and kiss her back!”
“No way!” shouted Olivia and “Absolutely not!” shouted Ferocious at exactly the same time and with pretty much the same tone of disgust. But after a massive amount of persuasion on Max’s part they eventually agreed. Olivia finally said that being kissed by Ferocious couldn’t possibly be worse than being kissed by Max, and Ferocious decided that he was just about prepared to do it for the right to eat all of Max’s bacon rind for the next year.
***
The castle green was cleared of stalls and a large stage had been put up in the middle, decked with banners and streamers. Most of the assorted knights, ladies, wizards and witches at the festival were seated in front of the stage, watching a small boy bewitching an arrow to fly around in circles and clapping politely. Lady Griselda and Sir Bertram were sitting near the front. She was trying to look encouraging and he was trying not to look bored. Max and Olivia were waiting nervously by the stage for their turn to be called. Ferocious poked his head out of Max’s pocket and surveyed the scene.
“It won’t work, you know,” he said gloomily. “Something’s bound to go wrong. Turn your sister into a badger most likely, and then we won’t be able to turn her back. Goodness knows what works with badgers.”
“Shut up Ferocious!” whispered Olivia. “Just do your bit and it will be fine.”
Adolphus bounded up beside them.
“Hello! Hello! All set? It’s really exciting! What fun!”
Max didn’t reply. He was actually feeling rather ill. What if it didn’t work? What if the potion had gone off since yesterday? What if Olivia did get stuck as a frog? Or worse, what if she just stayed a girl and the other novices laughed their heads off at Max’s feeble spell? They were all extremely surprised about Snotty Hogsbottom’s sudden disappearance for the wild northern marches. It had left the competition wide open and everyone now felt they might be in with a chance of winning. But no one was expecting the winner to be the person who always came last, Max ‘extremely accident-prone’ Pendragon. He swallowed. No going back now. It was nearly his turn. Just Owain Tregarth to go, one of Snotty’s particular cronies.
The boy on stage, who had successfully turned a blue jug into a purple one with white spots, left to mild applause and the presiding wizard called out, “Owain Tregarth, of Castle Blackroot!”
Owain gave Max and Olivia a black look as he pushed past them and stepped onto the stage. He took a potion bottle out of one pocket and an egg out of the other, sprinkled some of the potion on the egg and stepped back smartly.
There was a WHOOMPH and a cloud of silvery smoke. When it cleared, the egg had grown to the size of a person. It cracked, and out stepped an enormous peacock with a magnificent blue-green tail. The peacock shrieked and strutted about the stage for a minute, then gradually started to shrink. When the bird reached the size of a mouse, Owain stepped forward and captured it in the remains of eggshell, which at once became a normal-sized, whole egg once more. There was a burst of applause and Owain looked around at the audience and smirked. He was pretty sure he had just won the Novices’ Cup.
“Wow!” said Adolphus, as the audience cheered and clapped. “That was brilliant!”
“Whose side are you on?” said Max fiercely. “That was nothing special! It’s only a growth and reversal spell combined. Just because he happened to have a fancy peacock’s egg doesn’t make it anything new! I’ve done one of those before, anyway!”
“That would be the time you made that egg – er – well – a slightly bigger egg, then, would it?” said Ferocious innocently.
Olivia stamped her foot.
“Stop it, you two! Max’s right! The point is, no novice has ever turned someone into a frog before! That’s got to be a winning spell.”
But even she was worried. Owain’s spell had definitely been impressive. They really needed the frogspell to be perfect.
A Winning Spell
“And now,” announced the presiding wizard, “Max Pendragon, of Castle Perilous!”
The audience clapped politely. Sir Bertram cheered loudly, but Lady Griselda was hiding her face in her hands and peeping through her fingers. Adolphus, meanwhile, was bounding about like a bouncy ball breathing fire into the air.
“I shall be turning my sister into a frog, and then back into a girl,” announced Max, looking very nervous. He could see his parents just below him and Merlin leaning casually against a tree and watching from the back. Merlin winked. Max turned to Olivia and took the blue glass potion bottle from his pouch. Wearing gloves, he carefully shook a small piece of sticky blue goo out of the bottle and chucked it at Olivia.
Bang!
She disappeared – and in her place was a purple and red frog. The audience gasped, then stamped and cheered. Sir Bertram turned to his astonished wife and grinned widely.
“Well, that’s something, eh? Never knew he could do something like that! Knockout punch and the best spell in the competition by far! Well, well.”
Max sighed with relief. It had worked! Now for the tricky bit. He scattered some smoke powder on the stage and wreaths of purple smoke surrounded Olivia.
“Now!” he hissed at Ferocious, and Ferocious jumped.
When the smoke cleared, there were two black rats sitting in the middle of the stage, looking extremely surprised.
The audience gasped. People turned to each other and started to mutter. Lady Griselda whimpered, and Sir Bertram looked distinctly worried, but Merlin was looking amused and he gave Max a friendly grin. Max gulped.
“Behold!” he cried, recovering from his horror. “From one frog, to two rats! And now” He scattered smoke powder again and dived into the middle of it. When the smoke cleared this time, he had one arm firmly round his sister, and a bulge in his belt pouch.
“… Back to a person again!” he shouted triumphantly, wiping the sweat from his brow. The audience clapped and cheered and whooped, and Max could see Lady Griselda hugging Sir Bertram in relief.
“What happened?” said Olivia when they were safely back off stage. “Why didn’t it work?”
“I suppose it must only work properly with a human kiss,” said Max thoughtfully. “Any other animal just turns you into one of them.”
“Well, it proves Mrs Mudfoot must be human, I suppose,” said Olivia. “I always wondered. Anyway – it was brilliant, Max, really – you’re bound to win, the audience loved it!”
They were distracted by a deep booming voice, which suddenly rang out across the castle green.
“And now,” said the voice,
“The prize presentation for the Novices’ Spell-Making Cup…”
Max and Olivia pushed nearer to the front and Max crossed his fingers and hoped with all his strength.
“Step forward, our judge: the distinguished enchantress, and sister to the king – Lady Morgana le Fay!”
Max and Olivia looked at each other in horror.
“I didn’t know she was judging!” hissed Max.
“No, neither did I… We’re sunk, Max – she’ll never give you the prize!”
Lady Morgana, looking serene and glamorous, her long black hair framing her smooth, pale face, glided to the centre of the stage and looked around at her audience.
“Yes, well, an extraordinary display of talent,” she said in her honey voice. “Wonderful spells from all who entered – really wonderful.” She smiled at them all, apparently sincerely, but when her eye passed over Max he felt a shiver down his spine and his toes curled.
“Sadly there can be only one winner. I was very impressed by the growth and reversal spell of the marvellous novice from Castle Blackroot…”
“Here it comes,” whispered Max gloomily to Olivia as the audience cheered. But he was wrong.
“However, I think we all know, even without a deep understanding of magic, that turning a person into a frog is something quite marvellously rare – something that has certainly never been seen in a Novices’ Competition before – and I therefore award the Novices’ Spell-Making Cup to – Max Pendragon!”
Max was stunned. He looked up at Lady Morgana and she smiled at him, and this time her blue eyes were full of apparent warmth and admiration. He could even see the resemblance to King Arthur in her face as she held out the gold cup that was his prize. Max was completely taken aback by this change and only managed to mutter a few garbled words as the audience cheered and Sir Bertram stamped his feet. He looked across at Olivia who appeared almost as stunned as he was, but her eyes were narrowed as she watched Morgana. His sister clearly didn’t trust her an inch.