Twice Magic

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Twice Magic Page 7

by Cressida Cowell


  “Witches,” said Xar, grimly finishing the sentence for her.

  “I had no idea all this was going on!” said Wish.

  It was a horrid thought, that while life was going on just exactly as normal in the Warrior territories, and they’d been doing their training and their maths-work just like they always did, terrible battles had been carried out on this side of the Wall.

  “Yes, well, that’s your mother all over,” said Xar. “As long as you are safe, she doesn’t care about us. She’s left us to be exterminated.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” said Wish. “She hired the Witchsmeller and his Magic-hunters, didn’t she?”

  “If ‘the Witchsmeller’ is that guy with the sniffing nose and the weird pointing finger, do you really think he is going to improve the situation?” said Xar.

  Wish had to agree, the Witchsmeller’s arrival in the wildwoods could not be described as an improvement.

  “No, it’s all down to ME,” said Xar moodily. “I AM the boy of destiny, after all.”

  Bodkin had shut his eyes at the word “Witches.” Witches were all he needed to make him feel thoroughly sick, particularly because he’d now gotten rid of most of his armor. He was a reluctant flyer at the best of times, but as a first-time pilot, Wish was sending the door swooping up and down and swaying side to side in such a wild and uncontrolled manner that his stomach seemed to have been left behind somewhere back in the castle.

  “Which way should I take it?” said Wish.

  Xar pointed down to the right. “The snowcats and Crusher are waiting for us somewhere over in that direction,” he said.

  It was a bit of a bumpy landing.

  When they got below the tree canopy, Wish had quite a lot of difficulty getting the door to slow down, and because she always got a tad confused between left and right, the door slalomed rather manically through the tree trunks until eventually she found a small clearing, and they slammed down into the ground with such energy that all three of them were catapulted off the door.

  “Whoa,” said Xar with reluctant respect, picking himself up and brushing himself off. “You are one crazy door-driver, Wish!”

  And then he punched the air and shouted, “I DID it! Quest accomplished! Look at ME, O gods of the trees and water, and bow down in respect!”

  “Oh yesssss, well done, Xar, well done!” squealed Squeezjoos excitedly. “You’re brilliant, you really are!”

  “I most certainly am,” said Xar with a grin. “One thirteen-year-old boy, flying very low, has achieved the impossible double! Breaking out of Gormincrag Prison AND getting over Queen Sychorax’s supposedly unbreachable Wall… not ONCE but TWICE! I AM THE BOY OF DESTINY! FEEL MY POWER!!!!”

  And then he threw back his head, and howled too. “Urrr urr URRRR! Urr urr URRRRR!!!!!”

  Wish and Bodkin, picking themselves up, and realizing the enormity of what had just happened, looked at the so-called boy of destiny very, very balefully indeed.

  “Aren’t you going to thank me for saving you?” said Xar, just to add insult to injury. “Or don’t Warriors do thank-yous?”

  The cheek of it!

  “Ha! HA! You saved US??” exclaimed Wish in outrage, her hands on her hips. “WE saved YOU! If I hadn’t enchanted that door, those Magic-hunters would have killed you! And now Bodkin and I are in big, big trouble!”

  “Helping me out of there was the least you could do when all your relatives were attacking me!” said Xar. “You Warriors are not very friendly to your guests!”

  “Guests??? Guests are invited! Guests are polite! Guests don’t sneak in invisibly and try to steal things off you!” said Wish. “I think the word you may be looking for is ‘burglar,’ not ‘guest’…”

  “That Spelling Book is mine!” howled Xar. “I need it for a very important quest! And talking of burglary, you Warriors know all about that, don’t you, because you’re the biggest burglars in the world, and you’ve been stealing this forest off us for as long as anyone can remember!”

  “You can’t steal a forest!” yelled Wish. “The forest belongs to everyone!”

  “Try telling your mother that.” Xar glowered.

  “Your father is just as bad as my mother, I’ve seen him!” said Wish.

  Wizard and Warrior stood nose to nose in the forest, bellowing insults and curses at each other, as their ancestors had done throughout history, ever since Warriors first invaded from across the seas, and the two sets of humans met in battle in the wildwoods centuries before.

  Caliburn sighed.

  However many lifetimes he lived, these humans never seemed to change. He’d hoped for better from these two, but maybe they were going to be just like the others…

  But Xar wasn’t feeling too pleased with his father, so he had to agree with Wish’s last remark. And Wish was feeling rather the same about her mother.

  They both paused.

  “We shouldn’t be fighting, Xar,” said Wish at last, sticking out her hand for him to shake. “I’ve been really worried about what happened to you, and I’m so glad you’re safe. I thought we were friends…”

  Xar didn’t have all that many friends at the moment, what with one thing and another. And he rather liked Wish. Even if she was an enemy. He was even rather fond of the odd bodyguard who kept falling asleep. So after a while, he said, “Thank you for helping me out by enchanting that door.” Xar shook her hand and grinned back. “And I like your style of door-driving.”

  Maybe there was hope for the humans after all.

  “And it WASSSS really funny, wassssn’t it?” hissed Tiffinstorm, blinking into life beside them. “The Witchsmeller, screeching like a sssscreech owl… ‘This spoon is alive! This spoon is alive!’”

  Now the danger was over, it really was quite funny. Wish and Xar, the sprites, and even Bodkin were laughing at the memory of the Witchsmeller. The spoon did a brilliant impression of bonking him on the nose.

  Even Caliburn’s shoulders were shaking, before he remembered himself, and gave a little cough. “I’d just like to gently remind you that you’re supposed to be meeting everyone else here, Xar…”

  Xar stopped laughing.

  “Oh yes! You’re right, Caliburn.” He whistled a couple of times. “Now where ARE those snowcats? And Crusher? I TOLD them not to wander off.

  “Oh, there you are!” exclaimed Xar as, out of the gloom of the forest, there burst three stunningly beautiful lynxes, who padded over to Xar and greeted him as enthusiastically as if they had been three little kittens, knocking him over onto his back and slathering his face with licks.

  “Nighteye! Kingcat! Forestheart! Crusher!” sang Wish delightedly, as with great crashing noises the giant lumbered into the clearing, pushing the trees aside, his head on a level with the topmost branches. She hugged the snowcats, burying her face into the deep softness of their fur, and then ran to embrace the giant around the ankle. “Oh, I’ve MISSED you all…”

  “And weezus missed you!!!” trilled Squeezjoos happily, flying into her hair and making a joyful little nest in it. “Ridunculous humungular being!”

  “Ssssome of us have…” said Hinkypunk, and just to show that not ALL sprites were as soppy as Squeezjoos, he blew a little sprite-breath, which froze Wish’s bangs to her forehead. “Nots me though… I hatesss Warriors…”

  “And this is the Once-sprite,” said Xar, pointing to the little sprite sitting on the back of a peregrine falcon that had landed on his shoulder. “He’s a new member of my sprite team. Your wicked mother took his Magic away, but he’s learning to live life without it, aren’t you, Once-sprite? His wings don’t work anymore, but he’s learned to fly on the back of this peregrine falcon.”

  The Once-sprite was sprite-sized and sprite-shaped, but no bright light shone from his chest. His color had faded till you could hardly tell what it might have been… once. His wings had withered on his shoulders, and the sharp little points of his ears had turned and drooped.

  “It’s very nice to meet you
,” said Wish, giving the Once-sprite a shy wave. The Once-sprite did not look as if he had forgiven Wish for her mother’s actions. He stared stiffly into the distance, as though Wish were not there.

  But Wish was too happy in that moment to mind.

  The truth is, if you spend most of your life with your only real friends being an Assistant Bodyguard and a spoon, it’s very nice to meet up with some other people who are on the same wavelength, even if some of them are a little annoying sometimes, and supposed to be your deadly enemies.

  All of a sudden, Bodkin screamed, “Werewolf! Get behind me, Wish! There’s a werewolf!” as he saw Lonesome for the first time, prowling in the shadows behind the other wolves, his tail swaying ominously from side to side.

  “Oh, no, that’s fine. He’s a friend,” explained Xar with a careless wave of his hand. “I met him in Gormincrag.”

  “A friend? You’re friends with a werewolf?” said Bodkin. This really was too much, even for Xar. “But werewolves used to be known as companions for Witches… and what were you doing in Gormincrag? Isn’t that some kind of prison?”

  “Lonesome was innocent. He should never have been in prison in the first place,” said Xar. “And for a Loner Raving Fangmouth werewolf he’s really quite friendly. He just needs a bit of help with his manners.”

  “Doesn’t EVERYONE in prison say they’re innocent?” said Bodkin, looking very dubiously indeed at the werewolf, who was pawing at the ground in a manic sort of way, as if he was barely repressing the urge to rip them all to pieces.

  The werewolf bared his teeth menacingly at Bodkin.

  “Oh, Bodkin, don’t be so prejudiced,” scolded Wish. “This werewolf may be a very nice werewolf for all we know…”

  The werewolf paused for a moment, stiffening a little in surprise. He had never met Warriors before, having spent his whole life locked up in Gormincrag, and this was the first time that anyone had ever described him as “very nice.” Mostly people just ran away screaming.

  “Why were you in prison, Xar?” asked Wish. “And why do you want the Spelling Book? I’d have just given it back to you; you didn’t have to sneak in and steal it.”

  “Caliburn didn’t want me to get you involved,” said Xar. “And I need a Spelling Book so I can make my father’s staff work properly. I’m going to need all the Magic I can get in the quest I’m going on… A quest to get rid of… this.”

  Xar took off his glove.

  Wish and Bodkin let out horrified gasps.

  “I wish you’d stop doing that,” moaned Caliburn, putting one wing over his eyes as the sprites burned with green fire, hissing and cursing in alarm, and the snowcats and the wolves crouched down, growling. A trembling Squeezjoos flew into Wish’s hair and made a little nest there.

  “Oh… my… goodness!” whispered Wish in horror. “What happened to your hand? It’s the Witch-stain, isn’t it? But I thought the Stone-That-Takes-Away-Magic had taken the Witch-stain away? We all saw it happen, in my mother’s dungeon!”

  “Yes, well, it didn’t take all of it,” said Xar. “The great thing about it is that I can do Magic now, and that was wonderful, at first. But the bad thing about it is…”

  “It’s bad Magic,” finished Caliburn. “Very, very bad Magic. And, as you can see, it’s getting worse.”

  Bodkin and Wish shivered as they looked at Xar’s hand.

  “It looks so awful. You don’t think… You’re not worried that… it might turn YOU to the bad, Xar?” suggested Wish tentatively. She laid a gentle hand on Xar’s arm.

  She could feel a slight coldness as she touched him, like ghost-breath on the back of the neck. Xar wasn’t looking well. His hair was damp, as if he had a temperature. The green of the Witch-stain had crept all the way beyond his wrist, there was a feverish look in his eye, and he shivered now and then, as if he was about to catch a nasty bout of the flu. Sometimes his hand stiffened, and his fingers curled and turned into claws…

  And even Xar found that a little scary.

  “The Droods found out about the Witch-stain and shut me up in Gormincrag. They said they were trying to find a cure, but they were lying, and my father believed them,” said Xar moodily. “They all just want me to stay in Gormincrag forever. My father doesn’t care… Well, I’ll show them!”

  “But what are you going to do, Xar?” said Bodkin. “The Stone-That-Takes-Away-Magic is broken, you can’t use that anymore!”

  “The only way to get rid of a Witch-stain is to get rid of the Witches themselves,” said Xar. “So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go out there and destroy them.”

  Bodkin looked at him with an open mouth. He had met Witches before and knew exactly how scary they were. “You’re going to go out there and face a whole horde of acid-blooded nightmares all on your own? On purpose? But you’re just one small boy!”

  Caliburn coughed. “And it’s all very well saying you’re going to destroy them, Xar, but HOW, exactly? That’s been my point along…”

  “Well, that’s why I need my Spelling Book,” said Xar. “I’m sure there will be something in there that can help me…”

  “This is the most extraordinary coincidence!” cried Wish excitedly.

  “What coincidence?” moaned Caliburn, feeling the beginnings of a serious worry coming on. “I hate coincidences…”

  “I’ve JUST TODAY found a spell in the Spelling Book to get rid of Witches!” said Wish triumphantly. “In fact, that’s exactly why I broke out of the Punishment Cupboard—I wanted to get the spell to you and your father… Bodkin, show Xar!”

  As soon as she said these words, the Spelling Book flew out of Bodkin’s pocket, and up into the air and into Wish’s hands, growing larger as it flew.

  Wish tapped the letters on the contents page to take them to the right part of the book.

  “It was quite strange really. I didn’t find it so much as write it,” admitted Wish. “I was using the feather that Caliburn gave me to write with, and it was almost as if Caliburn’s feather was writing on its own…”

  They all crowded around the Spelling Book to see the page.

  “Look! It’s a recipe! Maybe the Ssspelling Book wants us to EAT the Witches?” said Squeezjoos, excitedly, for Squeezjoos was always hungry.

  “That’s not a recipe!” said Xar. “Oh my goodness! You’re right! It’s a Spell to Get Rid of Witches!!! I knew it!”

  They all gazed hopefully at the spell.

  “You wrote this with MY feather, did you, Wish?” said Caliburn, so worried now that the feathers were dropping from his back like leaves in autumn. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear… Sometimes I forget what happened in my former lives, but the memory lives on in my feathers.”

  “You’ve lost me there, Caliburn,” said Bodkin, shaking his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Former lives?”

  “Yes, I have lived many lives as a human, but this is the first time I have been reincarnated as a bird,” explained Caliburn, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “So perhaps the feather is writing a message TO me, FROM me in one of my former lives?”

  Bodkin’s head was going around and around. These Wizards and Magic things were so complicated. Having just the one life as a Warrior Assistant Bodyguard was so much simpler than all this reincarnating, turning-into-birds business.

  “But I’ve never heard of a spell so strong that it could actually get rid of Witches ENTIRELY,” said Caliburn. “Did I really know that in a former life? What does this mean?”

  “It means,” said Xar animatedly, “that we’re going spell-raiding, guys! Oh, this is so exciting!”

  Spell-raiding was a rather disreputable part of the Magic world. Spells needed ingredients, and some of those ingredients were hard to get hold of. So wild wingless young sprites called “spell-raiders” specialized in collecting and stealing spell ingredients. They flew at night, on the back of specially trained peregrine falcons, in order to make a quick getaway.

  The Once-sprite cheer
ed up no end. He had been drooping sadly on the back of the peregrine falcon, but now he sat up, so excited that he might have an important role to play in the world once more that he accidentally fell off his bird, scrambled up on its back again, and saluted Xar, saying, “I won’t let you down, Xar! Youssss can rely on me!”

  “Me too! Me too!” squeaked Squeezjoos. “I’s wants to be a spell-raider too!”

  “Youss too young to be a ssspell-raider…” said the Once-sprite. “It’sss very dangerousssss… You can guard some of the collecting bottles that we’re going to put the ingredients in…”

  The Once-sprite rustled in his spell bags and gave a few collecting bottles to Squeezjoos, who said, “Is’ll guard them with my life!”

  “All right, let’s see, what’s the first ingredient?” said Xar excitedly. “Giant’s Last Breath from Castle Death…”

  The werewolf started to growl and gesticulate urgently. What he said was: “REOOWR, grunt, GROOWGGRGLE, grunt, weoorrrrr!” And then a loud spitting noise, and a stamp of the hairy foot, followed by, “Creargle Urgh.”

  “Look! Lonesome is agreeing with us! He’s saying we have to go IMMEDIATELY to Castle Death,” said Xar.

  “You speak werewolf?” asked Wish, deeply impressed.

  “Oh yes, fluently,” said Xar carelessly.

  “Would you say fluently?” said Caliburn, to no one in particular.

  “Fluently,” repeated Xar firmly. “We Wizards all get lessons in werewolf language.”

  “Xar’s brilliant, issn’t he?” said Squeezjoos proudly. “Speakss werewolf like he’ss a werewolf himself.”

  “Your lessons sound so much more interesting than our lessons,” said Wish longingly.

  “What’s he saying now?”

  The werewolf repeated rather more urgently, “Grunt, weoorrrrr!” Spit! Stamp!

  “Don’t worry, Lonesome, I understand,” said Xar. “We need to go to Castle Death. Immediately.”

  Unfortunately that wasn’t what the werewolf was saying. Xar really should have concentrated harder in the werewolf language classes. “Creagle Urgh” does indeed mean Castle Death, so Xar had gotten that bit right. But “go to” in werewolf language is “grunt, weeiiiroh,” whereas “grunt, weoorrrrr!” means “stay away from.”

 

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