by E. M. Cooper
‘This great hall and all the rooms on the ground floor and the servants’ quarters below never change, but above us, it’s a different story. The magical tide shapes and reshapes the upper rooms by night and that’s why we sleep in the outer houses. Respect and appreciate Fanglewick, and you’ll spend a happy four years here. If you don’t live well, Fanglewick exacts its own justice. Remember, we’re mere guests in this beautiful building.’
Marnie shivered as she searched the basement ceiling’s ornate plaster almost expecting a giant eye to blink at her.
‘To enjoy your time here, there are a few rules,’ Crabwinkle continued. ‘First, no necromancy, no summoning of the dead for any reason and no calling live demons, etcetera.’
Marnie swallowed as she wondered what an etcetera might be.
‘Second, we don’t tolerate hexcraft ... no hexes or any curses from acne jinxes to death curses. Third, no flying outside Fanglewick. You will be taught to fly in the school grounds under supervision. This is for your protection rather than us limiting your freedom. Fourth, no antagonising fairies in the Field of Lunaris, which is between Fanglewick and the town of Wandermere.’ She sighed. ‘We’ve worked long and hard to gain a shaky peace and I don’t want it disturbed by unruly first years. Fifth, don’t go near Shining Lake at night.’ Crabwinkle paused. ‘Hmm, no running or horseplay in the hallways, no carving names on furniture, no wandering the Fanglewick rooms, no pestering the goblins or goatees and you’re not to be late for classes.’
The room was silent and Marnie had lost count of the rules as she chopped a few carrots into the basin.
‘I’d like to introduce Professor Clarence Thigimus, who arrived from Earth yesterday. He’ll be teaching Alchemy and Potions and will be the new head of Andromeda House. Professor Thigimus was an outstanding athlete in his youth and won many awards in the Highbroom Games for hurricane surfing on Earth.’
Marnie imagined Thigimus bowing stiffly as the students clapped politely.
‘Sandra Pentwhistle is our new head of Lyra House and professor of Psychology and Ethics of Magic. She hails from a long line of esteemed witches.’
The students clapped again.
‘Professor Bengt Silas will be teaching Physical and Strategic Magic, including supervised flight and wand skills. Where’s Silas?’ Moments later, Marnie heard banging doors. ‘There you are, Silas. Please come up here with the professors.’
Marnie noticed a small set of winding steps at the far end of the room she was in and followed them until she found a small grate in the wall with a better view.
‘Aurora Bright will be teaching Arithmancy and heading up Gemini House.’
The elfin woman glided up the steps onto the stage with perfect posture and nodded graciously at Crabwinkle.
‘Thaddeaus Gloam, head of Capricorn House will introduce you to Natural Elements—botany and creatures of the Old World,’ Crabwinkle announced while urging a tall, fastidious-looking man of about sixty to the stage.
Marnie peered at the elf with his neatly cropped white hair and tailored, olive suit.
‘Muriel Crawfoot will be instructing you in Creativity. Muriel?’
Marnie knew the woman rushing to the stage had to be a witch from her attire although her hair piled into a loose bun of sorts with twigs and leaves protruding from it seemed unique. As Crawfoot climbed onto the stage, Silas raised his eyebrows in obvious distaste. Marnie chuckled when she saw Crawfoot’s boots had left behind small clods of dirt and muddy prints.
‘While you’ll meet many other teachers at Fanglewick, these are the people you’ll have the most to do with in your first year,’ Crabwinkle said. ‘It might come as a surprise to those who don’t have much background in magic, but all the energy you take for your spells, potions and charms must be balanced by another force—creative, physical or relaxed pursuits.’ She paused and looked around the room at the spellbound students. ‘If you neglect the balance, the consequences can be dire. You might go quite mad, die or worse, be drawn to dark magic. The majority of those who practise magic have no trouble balancing their inner world. Remember, if in doubt, fun always comes before magic. The happiest witches, wizards and elves find a way to infuse their magic with joy.’
The door rattled in the room below and Marnie raced back to the table.
As Astra entered the room, her eyes flicked to the table. ‘Hungry?’
Marnie nodded and casually tried to cover the basin although Astra didn’t seem intent on checking how much work she’d done. She led her to the kitchen, where the goblins were eating breakfast at a long wooden table beside the fire. Astonished at the spread of dishes, Marnie sat at one end as the goblins devoured their feast of bacon, bread, eggs, fish and meatballs and slurped brown liquid from goblets.
‘Dig in,’ Astra said while the others ignored her.
Marnie ate bacon and eggs and was reaching for a jug of the frothy brown drink when a gnarly goblin hand wrapped around her wrist. She was surprised by his strength and scaly touch.
‘I don’t think the ale will suit your palate, deary,’ he said but didn’t raise his eyes to meet hers. ‘Not unless you’re used to the strong stuff. Try the milk instead.’
‘What will I be doing when I’ve finished breakfast?’ Marnie asked Astra when she brought a jug of milk and placed it in front of her.
‘Back to the room to finish what you started.’
A few of the goblins chuckled.
‘And this afternoon?’ Marnie filled her glass with milk.
‘The same.’
Marnie’s heart sank. Glumly she stared into her milk until she realised the old goblin eating his breakfast next to her had stopped grunting and snuffling. His face had turned dark purple and his eyes were popping. He banged his goblet hard on the table.
‘What is it, Keruncle?’ Astra exclaimed.
All the goblins stopped chewing and turned with wide eyes to the commotion.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ said a bearded goblin.
‘He’s not breathing,’ another called.
‘I think he’s cursed,’ Astra said. ‘We need a spell!’
‘How if we don’t know what ails him?’ a white-haired goblin said.
For a few moments, Keruncle clutched at his throat before falling forwards into his plate of fish and meatballs and knocking over his ale.
At once, Marnie knew he was choking. She jumped up and pulled a barely conscious Keruncle from the chair.
‘What is the witchy one doing? Leave him alone, girl,’ yelled the white-haired goblin.
The bearded goblin pointed at Marnie. ‘She did it! I saw her twitch and blink. She cursed him.’
Struggling to get a grip on the now purple Keruncle, Marnie banged him hard between the shoulder blades and out popped a small meatball he had obviously tried to swallow whole. He coughed and spluttered while gasping for air but eventually recovered enough to wipe the bits of fish and gravy from his mouth.
Speechless, the other goblins stared at Marnie in obvious awe.
Astra patted her on the shoulder. ‘Well done, Marnie.’
‘Thank you, dear girl,’ said Keruncle amid the other goblins’ claps and cheers. ‘You saved my life.’
Marnie nodded, embarrassed by the attention. She had seen staff at the orphanage save a small girl choking on a piece of meat so had known exactly what to do.
All the goblins murmured thanks as though they had seen Marnie properly for the first time.
‘I’m not a witch, you know,’ Marnie said.
‘Apologies, deary, but witch, wizard or elf, you’re all a bit the same to us. We’ll call you Marnie,’ Keruncle said.
‘I’d like that.’
The other goblins grunted in agreement.
After breakfast, Astra took Marnie aside.’ I don’t want you to return to the chopping room. You’ll be staying here for the rest of the day, now that you’re one of us.’ She smiled. ‘Prepare for the unexpected, Marnie Speck.’
* * *
<
br /> CHAPTER 12
Sunshine and bare feet
After breakfast, the goblins bedded down on sleeping mats scattered around the edges of the kitchen or disappeared down a stone passage. One small goblin child remained in the kitchen and Marnie watched her take a large jar of glowing green balls from the mantel over the fireplace. She fossicked in the jar and took one of the balls before standing at the table covered in dirty plates and scraps.
‘Please take your arm from the table,’ the child said to Marnie. ‘It’s my turn to clean up.’
‘You can’t do it by yourself. I’ll help you.’
‘That’s not necessary.’ The child raised her hand and whispered strange words under her breath. A yellow cloud fell and obscured the dishes.
Marnie found it difficult to focus on the small goblin. When the haze cleared, she was astonished to see the plates, cups and goblets sparkling clean and neatly stacked. ‘How did you do that?’
The child yawned and shrugged. ‘The usual way—a spell. It makes me very tired though, so I have to sleep now. I hope you don’t mind being left alone?’
Still stunned, Marnie shook her head.
Astra walked through the doorway into the kitchen. ‘There you are.’
‘Tell me about your magic,’ Marnie said.
‘Pardon?’
‘I just saw a child wash these dishes in under a minute.’
‘Oh, yes, well, it’s our flavour of magic—the goblin way.’
‘You can do magic too?’
‘Not exactly. We can’t create it, but we’ve learned to borrow and channel others’ magic. We’ve figured out how to use the magic of Fanglewick to work fast, faster than the eye can see.’
‘What’s in that jar?’
‘It’s a spell jar. We extract small packets of magic from the veins that run through the walls of Fanglewick to use for spells. If we only take small amounts, Fanglewick is agreeable.’
‘And if you take too much?’
‘No, we never do that. Goblins have a long heritage of mining for riches and know instinctively what to do. The vein we’re tapping gives off a packet or two each day and we leave it at that.’
‘Where are the goblins now?’
‘Some are napping and recovering because you know magic always has a price, even if doesn’t spring directly from you. It churns your metabolism.’
‘What’s the point? You could cook and clean at a normal pace.’
Astra smiled. ‘We have a simple roster. It only took two goblins a few minutes to make breakfast for the entire school. The rest of us are free to do what we wish.’ She pointed down the passage where most of the goblins had disappeared. ‘We all have our hobbies and passions and each is free to pursue what they enjoy. So, if you want you can spend your time here learning to read or whatever.’
‘And those upstairs have no idea?’
‘It’s our secret.’
Marnie smiled. ‘Could I see where you extract the magic?’
Astra rubbed her chin as though debating whether to show her.
‘Take Marnie and show her,’ Keruncle said from his sleeping mat near the stove. ‘She’s earned it.’
‘Very well, but now you’re one of us, you can never tell them about it.’
‘I promise.’
Astra led her to the stone passage where many of the goblins had disappeared earlier. They passed small rooms, where goblins were sleeping, painting, sewing or reading, and continued to a set of steps leading to a lower level. A golden light streamed up the steps and a sweet smell like rich honey wafted from below. When Marnie reached the basement floor, the sight took her breath away. The walls were alive with spidery red and gold light like lightning filaments zigzagging through their surface. Two goblins wearing protective gloves and goggles were tapping one of the veins with a glass pipe connected to a larger flask. The liquid gold was dripping into the flask where it glowed with supernatural strength.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Marnie whispered.
‘I know,’ Astra said. ‘It takes many hours to extract the magic base. Once the flask is full, we blend it into a jelly that holds and protects it.’
Marnie watched a goblin woman mixing the gold extract through a green liquid and spooning it into round containers where the spells were left to set on trays like jelly.
‘Come now.’
Marnie followed Astra upstairs. ‘What should I do now?’
Astra pointed to the back door of the kitchen, where sunlight streamed through the glass. ‘Unlike us, it isn’t healthy for you to be in the dark all day. Muriel Crawfoot and her class are waiting for you outside.’
‘I’m allowed out?’
She nodded. ‘It’s fine, I promise.’
Not waiting for a second invitation to escape the dingy kitchen, Marnie bolted out the door. Squinting in the strong light, she saw Muriel with a group of students in a grassy field between Andromeda and Capricorn House, so she ran to her. As she got closer she could see her waving. The class had taken their shoes off and were lying like starfish among daisies, gazing at the tumbling white clouds overhead.
‘Greetings, Marnie, lovely to see you.’
‘What’s she doing here?’ Charlie said in an irritated tone as he propped on his elbows.
Muriel ignored him. ‘Astra said you wanted to join us?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Great. I asked Professor Crabwinkle and she was agreeable since we’re not actually practising proper magic.’ Muriel turned to the class. ‘I’d like to introduce Marnie to you all. She’ll be joining our classes.’
‘Unbelievable,’ Charlie muttered.
‘Do you have an objection, Charlie?’ Muriel said.
Scowling, Charlie mumbled under his breath as he lay back on the grass.
‘Excellent,’ Muriel said.
Marnie sat on the grass beside Seb and Lissa, who both grinned at her.
‘Lie down and let your minds drift with the clouds,’ called Muriel. ‘It’s all about surrendering and setting your worries free. Breathe and float, breathe and float. Do you feel it? Let it carry you away.’
Marnie inhaled the smell of grass and a fragrant sweetness further down the hillside in the direction of Wandermere. ‘What’s that beautiful smell?’
After sniffing at the air, Muriel sat up and looked over her bright yellow glasses. ‘Don’t be deceived, dear. It’s the fae setting traps for squirrels and small children. One sip of their sweet concoctions and you’ll end up stiff and brittle or gift-wrapped. They’ll cart you off and you won’t be able to do a thing about it. Forget about them. We’re here to relax and re-establish our magical balance. You can’t give out unless you take in.’
When the class had watched clouds drift over them and spotted shapes among the formations, Professor Crawfoot asked them all to sit up. ‘This might seem an airy fairy pursuit, but creativity and relaxation are important classes you’ll need to practise daily. The most powerful wizards, elves and witches know how to play.’
Charlie, who was sitting with two elfin girls, sniggered.
‘Every year I have doubters, but all I can do is tell you stories of those who have listened and those who haven’t.’ Muriel scratched her hair with both hands vigorously. ‘Magic exacts a frightening toll. It churns your brain juices like nothing you can imagine, so you must, you absolutely must, fight back with dreams, play and love.’
‘Or what?’ Charlie said in a peevish voice.
‘Go mad, dear child.’
‘Pfft.’
‘Pfft me all you like, but when I was only a couple of years older than you, a boy I loved dearly believed himself invincible. He conjured an abomination after a binge of divination and transfiguration without pausing a moment to play. After only a week of unrelenting dark magic, we found him barely alive at the base of Fanglewick’s clock tower with both ankles fractured. He believed he could fly without his broomstick but unfortunately discovered otherwise.’
Most of the class seemed s
hocked, but Charlie rolled his eyes and the two elves with him grinned.
‘What an idiot,’ Seb said quietly to Marnie and Lissa while watching Charlie.
‘He’s with Callie and Eudora from Gemini House,’ Lissa whispered. ‘They’re not very nice.’
‘I’d like everyone to follow me, please,’ Muriel called as she wandered off towards the Fanglewick buildings.
Lissa squinted at Fanglewick. ‘That ivy around the tower with the pointy steeple on the right wasn’t hanging there yesterday.’
Seb followed her gaze. ‘I don’t think the tower was either. What do you suppose would happen if you were sitting in a room that disappeared overnight?’
Muriel, who had been striding up the pathway ahead of Seb, Marnie and Lissa, stopped and turned around. ‘Well, you’d be swallowed or wedged between dimensions of the multiverse, wouldn’t you? That’s why you don’t go near Fanglewick at night.’
‘So is Fanglewick good or bad?’ Marnie asked.
‘Excellent philosophical question.’ Muriel pulled a twig from her hair. ‘I wouldn’t go out of my way to find out or pester it. Follow the rules, my dear, follow the rules.’ She hurried along the path before stopping outside a small building and opening the door to invite the class inside. ‘Here you’ll find equipment for sports and hobbies … bats and balls, beekeeping equipment, bubble pipes and painting sets. Whatever you can imagine, you’ll find it here and if you can’t, well, we can order it. Please feel free when you have spare time to borrow whatever you might enjoy. The store operates like a library.’
Muriel opened a cupboard filled with kites. ‘This evening, I’m flying kites on the hill while the moon still has enough kick in it for us not to get lost or run into each other in the dark. Anyone who’d care to join me at nine, please meet me here. I’ll be waiting with the kites. Make sure you’re dressed warmly.’
The class spent the rest of the lesson trawling the store room, which was filled with a strange assortment of handcraft and sporting supplies. In one aisle, ladders reached to shelves stacked with fabrics, stamps, scrapbooks, inks, paints and model making equipment. In another, shelves overflowed with bats, balls, flippers, masks, gloves, racquets and other sporting supplies.