But the other tests proved equally as disappointing for the children. The best they could manage with the dirt was a couple of marble-sized balls by Grady, a fizzled spark of flame from the oil – also by Grady – and a fluttering twist in the dreamcatcher by Niamh.
If the children were disappointed, Murdock looked astonished. Everything the children had done – invisibility shields with a unicorn, getting to this world in the first place, and the strength of magic they were drawing, meant they should – by rights – be producing waterspouts, bowling ball-sized dirt sculptures, flames which consumed the oil in no time at all, and have blown the dreamcatcher apart. But something, some block was preventing them from using the magic the way they should.
Suddenly the children heard a noise from the colonnaded walkway, like a stone being dislodged. Without turning around Murdock said in his most stern voice, ‘You lot can come out now. I know you’re all hiding there.’
Four small heads rose up from behind the stone walls. Bree, Devin, Emily and Tulliah gave cheeky smiles to Murdock as they stood, but Niamh and Grady looked delighted to see them.
‘Can we take a break?’ asked Grady.
‘Of course,’ said Murdock. ‘Five minutes.’
Grady and Niamh ran over to the walkway to the group. ‘Did you all see what just happened?’ asked Niamh.
‘Yes,’ said Bree. ‘But don’t worry about it,’ she said, seeing Niamh’s look of disappointment. ‘It’s probably your wands or maybe it’s just something to do with you being new here. I’m sure you’ll both be wonderful at magic when you get the hang of it.’
‘I used to be absolutely USELESS!’ said Devin, giggling. ‘When I was tested I mixed up the water and dirt and ended up with a big blob of dirt which I dropped on my teacher’s head. It was so funny. He looked like a chocolate egg underneath it all!!’
The children all laughed at this image, but as Grady sat himself down he found himself getting angry again. ‘But what if we can’t? What if that’s the best we can do?’
‘Then that’s the best you can do, of course,’ said Tulliah philosophically. ‘There’s no point getting upset about it.’
‘Oh, Tulliah,’ said Bree. ‘Do you think they’d have come back here if they couldn’t do real magic? Just give it time. Murdock will find a way.’
Devin jumped back into the conversation – ‘Are you coming to school with us when we start this week? Everyone knows you’re here now. They’re all dying to meet you. You’ll practically be famous when you get there.’
‘Will you be in our class at school?’ asked Niamh, trying to change the subject. She knew being marked out as special but not being very good at magic wouldn’t earn them any friends, and probably create some enemies. If they couldn’t protect themselves from other children’s magic then it was going to be a tough time at school. The more friends they had around them the better as far as she was concerned.
‘Devin and Emily and me will be in your class, Niamh,’ said Bree. ‘We’ve already been told that. And Tulliah will be in Grady’s class as they are about the same age.’
‘Do you have your wands with you?’ asked Grady.
‘Of course,’ said Emily, pulling a slender brown wand from up her sleeve. ‘Would you like to see me do some magic with it?’ she asked with a twinkle in her eye. Niamh thought Emily looked like the girl who would most likely get her into trouble while avoiding it herself. It was something in the cheeky look and clever hazel eyes which made her think of the word “Trickster”.
Maybe not just yet, thought Niamh, but before she could say it Grady blurted out, ‘Yes please! Show us how to do it!’
Emily gave a little giggle and swept her wand towards the bowls of water on the table. The liquid within them leapt out of both bowls and formed a big puddle in the air before swooping towards Murdock. The elf was standing with his back to the children, talking to Grace and Merritt. Niamh gasped as she saw what Emily was about to do but before she could mutter a word Murdock swished his wand over his shoulder and the puddle of water reversed course and started chasing Emily. The puddle raced across the courtyard as Emily turned tail and ran. Her attempt at escape was too late though, as the puddle caught her and crashed down onto her head. She gave another little yelp and glowered at Murdock as the water started dripping off her now thoroughly soaked clothes and hair. The look was wasted though on Murdock, Merritt and Grace as they had erupted into peals of laughter at the sight of the soaking girl.
‘OOhhhh, I’m going to get you one of these days, Murdock,’ said Emily, scowling back at him.
‘Well you are welcome to try, but you haven’t been able to yet, my girl,’ laughed the elf. With another wave of his wand the water which had drenched Emily a few moments before was sucked back up and deposited onto the grass in the courtyard. Emily walked back to the group with a little smile on her face. ‘One of these days he’s going to regret that,’ she giggled.
‘Time to get back to it, you two,’ said Murdock, gesturing to Niamh and Grady. ‘Let’s see what happens when we get you onto broomsticks. The rest of you can disappear, thank you. And no trying to sneak back in here again or it’ll be more than water next time.’
‘Better go, Niamh,’ said Bree. ‘Maybe call for us later if you can? We’d love to hear how things went on the broomsticks.’
‘Sure,’ said Niamh. ‘After lunch, maybe? I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but if we’re anywhere near as bad at broomsticks as we are at wands, we won’t be very long at all.’ Niamh found she really liked Bree. Niamh knew she would need a good friend to help teach her how to survive in this world and Bree could be the one.
Niamh and Grady ran back to Murdock as he turned to walk over to the rack of brooms. Unlike the wand choosing, Murdock helped them choose a broom which was the right size for them. ‘Broomstick sizing and fit is just as important as the type of broom. You could have the best-made broomstick in the world, but if it didn’t fit you right the balance and ride would be all wrong. I’ve seen some really top-notch targeteers lose races because they haven’t been fitted to a new broom properly.’
‘What’s a targeteer?’ asked Niamh. The name sounded like the Musketeers in her old storybooks.
‘Targeteers are the real athletes in the broomstick world,’ replied Murdock. ‘The aim is to race around a course faster than anyone else, which sounds simple enough. The trick though is at four points around the course you have to shoot at a series of targets for points. When you get to the shooting range you have to jump off your broom and calm your breathing and heartbeat so you can shoot straight. One set of targets is moving, one set is stationary, and one set appears and disappears so you have to hit them when they pop into view.’
That’s only three sets, though,’ said Grady. ‘I thought you said there were four?’
‘The fourth set is the hardest, Grady,’ replied Murdock. ‘The final set of targets don’t move at all, but you have to fire at them from your broomstick while still flying. It’s really tough. Only the best spell casters and broomstick riders get to be targeteers.’
‘Can anyone be a targeteer?’ asked Niamh. She thought that sounded like a great sport – racing and blasting targets.
‘They have a team competition at school and there are even professional leagues for the best. It’s hugely popular. That and dragon racing are the most popular sports in this land.’
Murdock handed them each a broomstick which was just a little bit longer than they were tall so that when standing up, the top of the broom was just above their head. The brooms had the usual bristles down the bottom which Murdock told them was, in the best brooms, usually made from willow. Just ahead of the bristles was a saddle which Niamh thought looked just like the one on her dad’s bike – a short triangular seat with some padding. Below that and set slightly back from the saddle were a pair of footrests for balance. At the front of the broom, just at the point where your hands would be were a pair of handles which swept back and down a bit from the shaft
of the broom.
‘Now,’ said Murdock. ‘Step over the broom, holding it by the shaft.’ Niamh and Grady did as they were told so that they stood astride the brooms with the bristles sitting on the ground and the handle of the boom in their hands. ‘I want you both to try and draw on that magic you felt in your wands earlier and in your mind see the bristles rising off the ground so that the broom is just hovering off the ground.’
‘But ... ummm,’ Grady started to mutter. Murdock cut him off short. ‘Don’t think about it. Just do it quickly now.’
The strength in Murdock’s voice gave Grady quite a shock. The bristles suddenly levitated and Grady found himself sitting on the saddle on the broom, though his feet could still touch the ground.
Niamh hadn’t needed any commands from Murdock to give it a try. Her broom was up off the ground immediately Murdock had given the word. A huge grin broke out on her face as she took her feet off the ground and placed them on the footrests. She gasped a little and then giggled as she felt the broomstick bobbing underneath her. She glanced over at her smiling parents and gave them an excited wave.
Grady looked at his sister with her feet off the ground. If she can do it, he thought, then so can I! Taking a deep breath he placed first one foot, then the other onto the footrests. In moments both children were bobbing on their brooms.
Murdock looked well pleased. ‘Excellent,’ he said with a smile. ‘Not so hard now was it, Grady?’ Grabbing another broomstick from the rack Murdock expertly mounted it and swept round in front of the children. ‘All we are going to try for starters is a short circuit of the courtyard. To make your broom go forward press back with your feet and relax the pressure of your hands on the handles. The broom will start to rise and go forward. When it gets up some speed just lean forward on the handles a little bit. The broom will keep going forward but the nose will come back level.’
‘How do you turn these things?’ asked Grady, sounding a little uncertain.
‘Just like you would a bike,’ said Murdock. ‘To go left lean your weight that way and turn the handles. Just the same for going right. Watch this.’
The elf quickly turned the broom in a tight circle and raced off down the end of the courtyard. The children saw him drifting from side to side and watched the way he used his body to lean this way and that, guiding the broom. He reached the end and lazily swung back towards them, pulling up beside them again.
‘Your turn now,’ he said to Niamh.
Glancing again at her parents Niamh pushed back slightly with her feet and relaxed her hands just as Murdock had said. Her broomstick responded immediately, moving up and forward – not fast but fast enough for her. Flying forward a few feet she found it easy to balance and started to relax. Halfway down the courtyard she tried a couple of turns sweeping easily from side to side, laughing as she did so. She reached the end, turned a big circle and headed back before pulling neatly up alongside Grady and Murdock.
‘That was such fun, I can’t believe it,’ she said delightedly.
‘A natural, it seems,’ said Murdock. ‘That was as good a first time as I have ever seen.’ He turned to Grady. ‘Ready now, Grady? Time to give it a go.’
Grady didn’t look anything like as confident as his sister but managed to get down the end and back again without falling off. Murdock seemed genuinely delighted with the first effort from his charges.
They spent the rest of the day working on basic broomstick skills. By mid-afternoon Niamh felt like she had been riding a broom all her life. She was easily able to follow Murdock as they raced over the top of the courtyard walls and out into the forest nearby, racing along the trails. Even Grady found he was enjoying it much more than he thought he would. They raced around the castle grounds, swooping down to the dragon pens, waving at Roland as they did so. They buzzed past the kennels and saw Fin and Cu relaxing beside Vynda. The disappointment of the wand work earlier in the day seemed forgotten while they were on their brooms.
Dipping low over the tops of the trees Murdock shouted to them, ‘Back to the courtyard. That’s enough for now.’
Disappointment showed on their faces, but the children did as they were told and followed Murdock back to the courtyard. Touching down lightly the children barely waited for the broomsticks to lose momentum before excitedly racing over to their parents.
‘Did you see that? Did you see us?’ they gabbled in between hugs from Merritt and Grace.
‘Yes, we did and we’re very proud of you both. Now why don’t you run on back to the rooms? There’ll be food waiting for you I’m sure and you need a break by now, I think. Mum and I need to talk to Murdock.’
‘Okay Mum,’ said the kids and headed back out through the courtyard.
Turning to Murdock Merritt said, ‘So what do you think? What happened with the wands?’
‘I don’t know, Merritt. I’ve been thinking about it most of the day. Their magic is strong, really strong. Like nothing I’ve seen in, well ... probably ever. The feel of the magic, though, is wrong. They don’t use it like you and I do here. It’s twisted in some way that’s stopping them being able to access all the power. It’s as though there is a big pipe with a blockage in it so that just a little bit of water is seeping through. We need to find a way to open it all up.’
‘Do you think you know how to?’ asked Grace.
‘I really don’t know,’ replied Murdock. ‘This is new for me. I’ve never come across this before. One thing is certain though. If we don’t find a way, they will be in danger. Sooner or later Balthasar will be back looking for you two and maybe the children. If they can’t defend themselves then we could all be in danger. There is much at stake here with those two. Much indeed.’
Chapter 11
The Library and the Lore Master
The children started back down what they thought were the right corridors, but in no time at all found themselves lost. Grady would not admit defeat and rather than call for help decided to wander round the castle until they found somewhere they recognised. They were just about give up when the distracted brown-haired boy they had seen at their welcoming party walked across a corridor in front of them – head in a book again, Niamh noticed.
‘Hey! You!’ shouted Grady.
Looking up at the shout the boy stopped and stared back. ‘It's Quinn,’ he said without any hint of reproach in his voice.
‘Sorry?’ said Grady.
‘Quinn. It’s my name. You can use it if you like. I shan’t be upset if you do.’
Niamh smiled at Quinn’s response. He had said it in such a deadpan voice that Niamh was unsure if he was trying to be deliberately funny or not.
‘Oh. Okay,’ said Grady, taken aback at the exchange. ‘Quinn then. Ummm. We’re lost. Do you know how we get back to our rooms from here?’
Quinn stared for a moment. Without replying he clapped his hands and called for a faerie which promptly appeared in a flash of gold light. ‘Can you take these two back to their rooms, please. They’ve got lost.’
‘Of course,’ said the faerie. ‘Follow me, please.’ The faerie turned and started flitting down the corridor. As it did so Quinn turned and walked away without so much as a goodbye.
Grady had turned after the faerie but Niamh stood for a moment watching the odd bookworm of a boy walk away. She called after him. ‘Hey! Quinn! Wait!’
Again the boy stopped and stood with the disinterested look in his face. Niamh ran up to him and said, ‘Emmy told us you know a lot about the library here. Can you show us, please? I love books and libraries. I was one of the best readers in my class back home.’
Quinn seemed to stare right through Niamh as he considered her request. Niamh felt like she was being weighed up by him from the inside out.
‘Are you sure? It’s just a library, you know. I doubt you’ll find it that interesting after being the king’s granddaughter.’
‘Oh, so you remembered,’ said Niamh, trying to draw herself up and look regal.
‘Well of cou
rse I did. But the words in the books don’t care who reads them, so why should I care who hears my words? No one really takes much notice anyway,’ he said, a little more quietly.
Niamh felt a little embarrassed at her attempt to act like a princess. Something about this boy made her want to impress him. Perhaps it was the complete air of indifference, or maybe she just liked seeing another bookworm.
‘Well, anyway,’ said Niamh, ‘I’d like to see it. Can you show me or not?’
Another one of those appraising looks came from the boy before he nodded, saying, ‘Sure. I’ll see you in the main courtyard in one hour.’
‘Great!’ said Niamh. ‘Thank you. One hour it is.’
An hour later the children bounded into the courtyard to find Quinn waiting with his head in a book as he sat stretched out on a bench.
‘So where do we go?’ asked Grady
‘Follow me,’ said Quinn, as he slowly unfolded himself from the bench. Niamh noticed as he stood up and stretched that he was a lot taller than she first thought. She thought he looked like one of those people who often stoop a little to make themselves look smaller than they usually are.
‘What does everyone else call you?’ asked Niamh as they started walking back towards the doors.
‘Normally they call me Weirdo or Nutter,’ said Quinn, without breaking stride. ‘I don’t really have a lot of friends. If you aren’t wonderfully good at magic then you tend to get bullied quite a bit round here. That’s why I like the library. The books tend not to give you much lip, though a couple of the more highly charged magical spell lists can be a bit mouthy if you don’t treat them right.’
‘Books talking?’ said Grady. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
‘Oh I never joke, Grady. Most people just look at me a bit strangely if I do. My jokes must be a bit too ... peculiar for them. After a while I just stopped trying to tell jokes. Except to Gilly, of course. If there’s one thing he is good for apart from knowing where to go to get just the right piece of information from just the right book, it’s that he loves a good joke. But yes, the books do talk. If you end up with the wrong book it can use its magic to drive you absolutely barking mad. In fact, there’s a couple of people who live in the kennels these days because just that happened to them – they ended up woofing like a hound dog so it seemed like the best place for them, poor sods. So no, I wasn’t joking about talking books.’
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