As they entered under the eaves of the forest the dog bounded enthusiastically up beside the children, gambolling around their feet before tripping up first Grady and then Niamh. Bree managed to stay on her feet springing gently over the dog as it ran in front of her. She giggled as she looked down at the tangled heap Grady and Niamh ended up in on the ground. The setter trotted around and sat down in front of them looking well pleased with itself.
The children stared up at the grinning beast and tried to get angry. Niamh, however, broke into a grin when she saw the happy wagging tail and tongue hanging out of the widely grinning maw. ‘Oh, he’s just happy to see us!’ she said to Grady.
Grady extracted himself from under Niamh, brushing off leaves and pine needles. ‘I don’t think that’s a “he”, Niamh. And I don’t think it’s just trying to be friendly – were you, Vynda?’ he said, looking straight at the dog.
As he said this the setter suddenly grew indistinct and the sound of something approaching at great speed and then receding again gave both the children a start. Jumping back and letting out a startled cry, the children saw the dog suddenly replaced with Vynda sitting on the ground, chuckling quietly to herself. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. And I thought you might like to see what it’s like when I have to do that. You may as well get used to it. There’s a few of us around the place.’
‘What does it feel like?’ asked Grady. ‘You know – when you make that change. Does it hurt?’
‘No. Not really,’ said Vynda. ‘It feels a bit like getting stretched out and then snapping back together. Do you remember what it was like when you came here? That moment when you stepped from your world into ours?’ The children nodded their heads in unison. ‘It’s very much like that. I understand from the propeller heads who study these sorts of things that it’s the same sort of transformational magic. The only difference is my magic transforms my whole body from one shape to another while yours just transforms the space around you from one world to another. Pretty cool though, don’t you think?’
Grady could only nod his head in wonder and stare back at the amazing woman in front of him. Only days ago they were living in a world where magic was confined to storybooks and imagination. Now they were surrounded by racing dragons, faeries and werewolves (or in this case, weresetters) and it was all taken for granted.
‘I think it’s time to get you back to your parents, though. We’ve taken a lot longer than I planned to and they’ll be wondering where you are.’
‘But I thought we were going to see the dogs,’ said Niamh, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.
‘Maybe we can do that later, or perhaps tomorrow if it gets too late. Don’t worry, they’ll be well cared for in the kennels.’
The rest of the walk back to the castle was uneventful. The children took a few moments to admire the view before they walked back up the wide castle steps and headed back to their wing of the building.
Grace was arranging the main living room when they walked back in. ‘There you are,’ she said as she placed a vase of golden flowers atop a long sideboard. ‘I was wondering if Vynda might have got a bit hungry and had you for a snack. Come and give me a hug and tell me what you’ve been doing.’
The children ran over to their mother and practically bowled her over as she knelt down to give them a hug. ‘We met the dragon master, Mum,’ began Grady. ‘And you’ll never believe it but he said I could learn how to train dragons with him!’
‘No he did not, Grady,’ said Niamh in her indignant voice that she used whenever she felt her brother had bent the truth just a little bit too far. ‘You know we had to talk to Mum and Dad about it before you could do anything of the sort!’
Glancing back at Vynda, Grace raised an eyebrow. ‘What have you been doing with these two, Vynda?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry, Your Highness,’ she said, smiling. ‘Grady and Roland hit it off quite well down there and I think your young man is just getting a bit ahead of himself.’ Vynda turned to the children. ‘I’ll see you two later. If you really must see the dogs tonight call for a faerie and they’ll find me. But I think you will have more than enough to do here settling in.’ Speaking to Bree she turned to leave; ‘Time to go, I think. Race you down to the gardens?’
‘See you tomorrow?’ said Bree to Niamh and Grady. ‘There’s heaps you haven’t seen yet!’ With a bound she raced out the door with Vynda close behind. ‘Last one to the gardens is a mangy mutt!!’ she cried, disappearing down the hallway.
‘Well,’ said their mother, ‘looks like you two have started making friends quickly enough. Are you hungry?’ Without waiting for a reply Grace turned to a faerie hovering nearby and said, ‘A plate of cheese and olives and another plate with bread, dukkah and nuts, please.’
The faerie nodded and spun on itself, disappearing in a flash of light. Before the children had even had time to sit themselves down two more faeries burst into view – each holding a plate of food as ordered. The children plonked themselves down on the floor in front of the low table in the centre of the room and fell on the food. They explained their afternoon with Vynda and their odd experiences with the castle directing them to the dragon pens. Grace looked thoughtful at this news, keeping her eyes fixed on Grady. ‘We will need to share this with Bel. He may have some insight on what it all means, though I have my own suspicions.’
‘Where is Bel?’ asked Niamh in between mouthfuls of bread.
‘Oh, he’ll be out and about on his own business. No one has seen him since we came back but that’s not unusual. He often disappears and roams the land talking to the trees and the wind and the sea to get the news he needs.’
‘How does he talk to the sea?’ asked Niamh. ‘I can’t even imagine how you would do that!’
Sitting down between the children Grace put her arms around them both. ‘There’s an awful lot you need to learn about this place and about Bel and his kind, Niamh. He is connected to the land in a way we don’t really understand. He was here before anyone arrived in this land, and he’ll be here long after we go. His magic isn’t a gift or special thing he can show off with. It’s what makes him who he is. He’s part of the fabric of the land.’
Niamh washed down the rest of her bread with a big gulp of water. ‘So what happens next, Mum?’ she asked. ‘We don’t really know what we’re meant to do now. Can we go run around the castle or call for some of those new friends we met at the party?’
‘I think for now you can just stick around here,’ said Grace. ‘Your dad is off with the king right now planning some things for tomorrow. He’ll be back soon but you’ve had a pretty busy day. Take some quiet time out. I think tomorrow is going to be another busy one. Why don’t you go and check out our library?’
Niamh’s eyes lit up. ‘We have our own library here?’
‘Of course,’ said Grace. ‘Follow me – it’s through here.’
Grace turned and walked through the doorway off to their right. Down the wide hallway (the opposite way from their bedrooms and bathroom) was another series of doors. Taking the second on the right Grace stepped into a room which took Niamh’s breath away.
The room was lined floor to ceiling (and it was a high ceiling!) on three sides with books and shelves. The fourth wall looked out over the grounds towards the city and the mountains. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the walls and books and warmed the air. There was no hint of mustiness, which Niamh was a little disappointed about. She felt that a room which looked like this ought to smell more like a library. But she immediately loved the look and feel of the huge leather sofas and chairs spaced around the room. This was clearly a place for people to spend a lot of time reading. The middle of the room was dominated by a beautiful dark oak table with a light ash coloured border. There were twelve wooden chairs spaced around the table, with square seats on them and carved legs which mirrored the legs of the table. Around the edges of the table were a number of drawers which Niamh found on closer inspection contained a ran
ge of pens and paper and paints and paintbrushes.
Never one to miss an opportunity to test out the springs on a sofa, Grady had already taken a flying leap over the back of the nearest sofa and was bouncing on his knees on the wide red leather seat. ‘Grady – feet off, please,’ said his mum.
‘But my feet aren’t on it!’ said Grady. ‘Just my knees!’
‘Don’t push it Grady,’ said the deeper voice of Merritt as he strode into the room.
‘Dad,’ both the children squealed as they raced across the room to their father.
‘How has your day been?’ he asked them. ‘Had some fun exploring the castle?’
‘It’s been just awesome, Dad! Really awesome! Did you know Vynda was a werewolf!’
‘Well actually yes, I did know that,’ he smiled down at the bouncing children in front of him. ‘But don’t worry – she probably won’t bite you unless you really really annoy her.’
‘Merritt!’ said Grace in mock indignation. ‘Don’t try and frighten them.’
‘Relax, Mum,’ said Grady. ‘We know she’s really just a weresetter so she’d probably just try and lick us to death anyway,’ he chuckled.
‘So what do you think of the library?’ asked Merritt. ‘Did you know whatever book you want you can get from here?’
‘No way,’ exclaimed Grady.
‘Yes way,’ replied his father. ‘All you have to do is ask the library for the book and it will bring it to you. Haven’t you noticed the books are always changing slightly? Look around you.’
Turning back to look at the shelves the children suddenly noticed what their father was talking about. Every now and then a book would disappear from the shelves and another would take its place. Sometimes the book was bigger than the one which had left and sometimes it was smaller, but always the remaining books would rearrange themselves to fit the space available. As a result there was just the slightest barely audible sound of rustling pages and every now and then the double pop of a disappearing book and another reappearing in its place. Dancing around the shelves were the dust faeries tidying and cleaning as they went.
Walking over to the shelves Niamh ran her hand over the spines of some of the books. They had titles like Magical Mysteries of the Olden Realm and The Witches Cauldron – Recipes for the Modern Witch.
‘How does it work, Dad?’ asked Niamh, running her eyes hungrily over the shelves. They had always had lots of books at home in Avalon’s End, but nothing like this. THIS was special. Niamh and Grady devoured books – there was barely a moment when they didn’t have one with them when they were sitting down at the dinner table or (and this made their parents really laugh) when they were sitting on the toilet.
‘Gosh, I don’t really know myself, Niamh. When I lived here I never really thought about it, but if you really want to understand it you should talk to old Gilly.’
‘The librarian?’ asked Grady.
‘Oh, you’ve already heard of him, have you?’ said Merritt, raising an eyebrow. ‘Well I wouldn’t call him a librarian if I were you. He knows more about how this place works than many round here.’
Grace had by now sat down in the nearest leather sofa. Merritt walked over and sat beside her.
‘Why don’t you try it?’ asked Grace. ‘Think of a book you want and ask the library for it.’
‘Niamh turned back to the shelves. ‘Okay,’ she said to herself. ‘I’d like a book on different types of faeries please,’ she said loudly, to no one in particular. After a moment or two one of the books in front of her gave a slight shimmer and pop and a new book was sat in its place – Faerie Folk and their Customs, by Professor Milo Oggery. Niamh pulled the book off the shelf and opened it up. Inside the cover was a picture of a strange-looking little man with wire rim glasses and an odd little smirk on his face. Flicking through the pages Niamh found story after story about the different types of faeries in the kingdom – Faeries for cleaning and food, and flowers, and trees, and water (Niamh knew about those – they were sprites) and rocks (she didn’t know about those – they looked like tiny trolls with wings!). Niamh oohed and ahhed about the pictures in the book as she walked back to the nearest sofa and plonked herself down.
‘My turn,’ shouted Grady, jumping over to the shelves. ‘I’d like a book on ...’ he hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘... training dragons!’ As with Niamh’s book there was a pop and shimmer and a slightly singed and sooty-smelling book appeared in front of Grady. He took it gingerly from the shelf and opened it up. A small shot of flame rocketed out of the first page making Grady cry out, drop the book, and leap backwards tripping over a footstool as he did so. The book didn’t quite hit the ground as a faerie appeared inches above the floor and snatched it out of the air. The little creature fluttered back up and wafted the book to where Grady still lay on the floor. The faerie held it open for him at the first page. Grady stared hard at the little creature. It wore tiny spectacles and looked almost exactly like the librarian at the local library in Avalon’s End – right down to the hair tied back in a severe bun and the dowdy brown dress and cardigan. Grady took the book and the faerie fluttered away giving him a haughty and thoroughly disapproving look for his mistreatment of one of her books.
Grace and Niamh and Merritt burst out laughing at this little spectacle. ‘It pays to treat the books well around here!’ laughed Grace. ‘You don’t want the library faeries after you, now do you!’
‘N ... no. I suppose not,’ stammered Grady, recovering his composure after the burst of dragon flame. Looking back down at the book he turned over some more pages and started to flick through pictures of astounding-looking creatures – small and big, sleek and clumsy-looking. He never imagined there could be so many different types of dragons.
‘You can spend the rest of the day here with us,’ said Merritt. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go into town for some bits and pieces, plus a few things you’ll need for school. You’ll also need your broomsticks and wands so we’ll go and get you tested for those.’
Both the children looked up at the mention of broomsticks and wands and smiled. This was what they were waiting for!
‘What do you mean by tested Dad?’ asked Grady.
‘Well, every wizard and witch has different strengths and weaknesses. Your mum is really strong in using the lighter elements – she can use Air and Water in ways most people only dream of being able to. She’s pretty good with the other elements too, though by the standards of most she isn’t just strong – she is super powerful. Your mum’s wand is made from poplar because that tree likes growing in marshy ground or by water and it moves with the wind. We need to figure out what your wands will be and get them made for you. The best wands are made by leprechauns but they never take payment when you get them. However, there will always be a price though you never know when they will call on you for payment. If you want a wand you can trust your life to then it should always be leprechaun-made.’
‘When you say “leprechaun” you are taking about the little men in green jackets and silly hats, aren’t you?’ asked Niamh.
Merritt smiled back; ‘Well I wouldn’t talk about their dress sense in front of them, but yes, they’re the ones. Do you remember the stories we used to tell you about them?’ Grady and Niamh both nodded. ‘Most of those stories weren’t made up. Leprechauns are fiendishly clever – extremely good with words and double meanings. You don’t want to cross them or they can get very nasty. But as long as you are honest and open with them you can win their trust. And once you do that, they can be great friends.’
Grace continued: ‘There are many people who make wands now. Some of them are very good too – real craftsmanship. But there are a lot of rubbish wands too. And now people have these iWands which are all meant to be wonderful. Apparently we have to get you one for school so we’ll have to see about that too.’
‘That’s what the guards had when we first arrived,’ said Grady.
‘Yes, that’s them,’ said Grace. We’ll talk to the leprechauns t
omorrow and see what they say about them. We don’t have any choice about whether we get them but it can’t do any harm to get some advice from the experts.’
‘What about our broomsticks, Mum?’ asked Grady. ‘Where do we get those?’
‘Well funnily enough, from the same place we’ll get your wands. Though the leprechauns don’t make them, their cousins do – the clurichauns.’
Niamh and Grady looked sideways at each other. ‘Clurichauns?’ they both said at the same time. ‘You’re just making it up, aren’t you?’ said Niamh to her mother.
‘Oh no,’ replied Grace. ‘Clurichauns look a lot like leprechauns except for one difference. They tend to be drunk the whole time. If you can just stop them drinking long enough to think about something other than moonshine, they make the most amazing broomsticks. Honestly – a clurichaun broomstick is the most wonderful ride. You have to be a really bad broomstick jockey to fall off one of their creations. Clurichauns are closely related to leprechauns but they don’t think about their brooms the same way the leprechauns do about their wands. Once they’ve sobered up enough to make a broom they are so focused and single-minded you can’t stop them and they think about nothing else. But ... once they’ve had another drink they forget about them completely. Most of the time they can’t even remember who they made them for which is why they aren’t very good businessmen.’
‘The leprechaun and clurichaun who made our wands and brooms are still working in town, so we’ll go there in the morning,’ said Merritt. ‘First stop tomorrow is at Fitzhollow and Hooligan!’
Chapter 9
Fitzhollow and Hooligan
The next morning the children were out of bed like a shot. There was no way they were going to be slow at getting their hands on wands or broomsticks. They were practically dragging their parents out of bed by the time the faerie-delivered breakfast had arrived on the table. Grace’s ritual morning shower was cut short by the children bringing towels into her, and Merritt practically had his razor shoved in his hand and shaving foam lathered over his face before he could wake up.
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