Azrael's Twins

by V. J. Mortimer

  ‘Welcome back everyone to another year!’ boomed her voice – much louder than it seemed someone of her size should be able to produce. ‘For those of you who don’t know me I am Ms Maladicta, your school principal. First I would like to welcome all the new students to the school. Our first years of course,’ she said, casting a gentle glance down at a frightened group of very young witches and wizards close to the stage. One of the new group was so startled at being talked to she inadvertently caused a spark to flash off her iWand setting fire to the blazer of the child next to her. With a quick wave of her hand Ms Maladicta put the flame out and restored the blazer to being whole again before continuing; ‘and also to those new students who have joined us this year including, might I add, two new students from the Old World. Niamh will be joining year seven, while Grady will be joining year five. I hope you will join me in making them especially welcome to Rookwood Hall.’

  The children could feel practically every eye in the room turning towards them with various people craning their necks to look over the heads of others as they tried to catch a glimpse of Grady and Niamh. The children wished that the ground would simply swallow them up so no one would see them.

  ‘All new students need to remain behind here when assembly finishes. For the rest of you it will be back to your classrooms. You all know what your rooms will be and who your class masters are. If you have forgotten, Mr Barrytown,’ said Ms Maladicta, looking at one boy who had his head buried in a book and who looked up shocked at hearing his name, ‘then I suggest you get down to the notice board outside the main office where you’ll find the lists for this year in large bold letters for you to read again.’ A titter of laughter ran around the room as the absent-minded-looking boy closed his book up and gave the principal his full attention. How she ever managed to pick children out of the crowd from fifty feet away was one of the mysteries of the school.

  Ms Maladicta continued with the usual sorts of notices that are read out around the world at the start of each new school year – when auditions would be held for the drama club, when the trials for the dragon racing and broomstick biathlons would be held, when the spell casting range would be open, when definitely not to be firing spells around the playground and fields, and what major events were planned for the year – and particularly when the annual interschool magical athletics days were to be held – the highlight of the sporting year for all the schools in the city. The final announcement was for the head boy and girl and their deputies for the year. As Ms Maladicta read out the name of August Van Helvering a collective gasp was heard ringing around the hall. ‘Why is everyone surprised?’ whispered Niamh to Bree.

  ‘August is a vampire!’ said Bree. ‘We’ve never had a vampire head boy at this school – ever!’

  From the back of the hall a tall athletic-looking boy with long jet black hair reaching to the middle of his shoulder blades stepped forward to receive his golden prefect badge from the principal. He walked as if he owned the room and there was more than one of the girls with their eyes fixed on him and a smile on their faces as he stood beside the principal. Deep blue, almost black eyes scanned the room as he soaked up the applause echoing from the rafters.

  The next name read out was Gillian D’Audney – the new head girl. As the rest of the school cheered, a slim blond-haired girl bounced between the seated children and ran up onto the stage. As she turned and stood beside August, Grady was struck by how short she was – or perhaps how tall August was beside her.

  The last two names were Michael Mallory and Prudence Bellweather. As deputy head boy and girl they stood either side of August and Gillian.

  ‘Well, no surprises there,’ said Emily.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Grady as he watched the badges being pinned to the new appointees.

  ‘Every year the captain of the dragon racing team and the broomstick biathlon team are either the head boy and girl or the deputy. So once the heads had been named everyone knew who was going to be the deputies.’

  The rest of the prefects were called up and awarded their badges by the head boy and girl. Finally all the formalities were completed and Ms Maladicta turned to the school.

  ‘And now, it’s time for another spectacular year at Rookwood to begin, everyone. First years and new attendees will wait behind here. Everyone else should now go to their classrooms and report to their heads of class. This is going to be another wonderful year I’m sure for all of us. Good luck everyone. You are dismissed.’ As the final words left her mouth she waved her wand high in the air and a shower of sparks leapt from the end, casting a golden rain down upon everyone. A babble of murmuring voices filled the hall as students stood up and started filtering towards the exit.

  ‘We’d better go,’ said Bree, turning to Niamh. ‘See you at morning break?’

  ‘Umm. Okay,’ muttered Niamh nervously. It had been great coming into the school with her friends but now being left to face the formidable Ms Maladicta left her feeling nervous and uncertain.

  The hall emptied itself in minutes. The children found themselves with a few stragglers, a handful of teachers, Ms Maladicta, and the frightened-looking gaggle of new entrants.

  ‘All right everyone!’ boomed Ms Maladicta’s voice. ‘Listen closely. When I call your name out I want you to walk over to the teacher who has the golden orb floating above their head over by the right-hand side of the hall. Ms Battersby, Mr Barber, and Brother Ted will be your form teachers this year.’ As one the children looked to their right to see their new teachers. Ms Battersby was dressed in a forbidding black dress with a black shawl over one shoulder pinned with a sapphire broach. Mr Barber was a thin angular-looking man with spectacles on the end of his nose and a faraway look, while beside him Brother Ted was dressed in the manner in which the children always thought a wizard should be dressed – robes of deep purple, gold and green with magical designs embroidered down the side of the sleeves and along the hem. He seemed to be fidgeting and unable to stand completely still as if he was ready to spring forward into action at the slightest urging. The children at the back of the pack bounced up and down to get a glimpse of the teachers as they stood at the side of the building under the enormous windows looking out over the river.

  ‘Toby Abelheart,’ rang out Ms Maladicta’s voice. As she spoke a bright golden spinning orb appeared above Ms Battersby’s head, bathing her in a gentle light. A boy with dreadlocks and a startled expression almost jumped backwards when his name was called. Grabbing his school bag he scuttled across the floor to Ms Battersby who was standing serenely with her hand up.

  After watching the boy tripping his way across to his teacher Ms Maladicta turned back to her scroll – ‘Abigail Alderman,’ she called. A squeak from the middle of the group saw a little dark-haired girl make her way out from her spot and walk slowly and nervously over to Mr Barber. As Abigail’s name was read out the globe drifted slowly across to Mr Barber who was standing there with a vacant look on his face as if he really didn’t have anything better to do. When Abigail finally made her way in front of him he almost looked surprised to see her there.

  Name after name was read out – each with the same reaction – a nervous-looking child making their way over to one of the teachers until eventually there was just Niamh and Grady left standing by the podium.

  ‘Thank you everyone for being so patient. Your class teachers will now take you on to your rooms and the start of your school year. Again, welcome to Rookwood Hall and the best of luck for the year!’

  ‘Follow me, please,’ said Ms Battersby in a lilting voice which seemed out of place in a dress so severe. She turned and walked from the hallway with a line of children behind her like the pied piper. Brother Ted rounded up his group and followed Ms Battersby and finally Mr Barber realised he should lead his crew away and followed the others.

  As they left the hall the children were left with Ms Maladicta. ‘Well,’ she said, clasping her hands in front of her and staring down at the children. ‘Our new pri
nce and princess,’ she said, smiling at them. ‘Welcome to Rookwood. I trust you’ll enjoy your time with us. I can’t wait to see how your year turns out.’

  Niamh and Grady thought she sounded unnecessarily ominous.

  Without waiting for the children Ms Maladicta started striding towards the exit. Picking up their bags and collecting their broomsticks, Niamh and Grady scampered after her.

  ‘Walk with me and I’ll bring you to your classes myself,’ said the tall witch. ‘I know your classmates will be eager to meet you!’

  Chapter 15

  Magic in the River

  The children tailed the principal out of the hall. Ms Maladicta didn’t break stride or slow down as she strode along the hallway. Doors seemed to burst open in front of her as if she was projecting a powerful spell at them. Niamh and Grady realised it was probably for show more than anything else as the almost invisible door sprites lurking by the doorways waited for the most dramatic moment to throw the doors open. Niamh thought the sprites looked more scared of the headmistress than she was. Eventually they reached the door of a classroom on the second floor. Turning to Grady she regarded him with a steely stare; ‘This will be your home class for the year, my young wizard. You need to be bonded to the room. Do you have your wand with you?’ said Ms Maladicta, holding her hand out. Grady fumbled through the front pocket of his bag before pulling out his beautiful red ash wand. Murdock had warned them they would each end up being linked to a room which would allow only them into the room. He had mentioned that a spell would be cast which did this, but didn’t show them how to do it.

  ‘Not that one!’ cackled Ms Maladicta. ‘Your iWand. You do have it, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes. Sorry,’ said Grady, reaching back into the bag and pulling out the white and stubby wand. It took several flicks of his wand just like Murdock had shown him before the wand finally telescoped out to its full length and Grady stood there looking confused as to what to do next.

  ‘Place your hand on the statue there,’ said Ms Maladicta, gesturing to the enormous statue standing to the right of the door. It was in the shape of a knight standing with its sword point down with hands clasped on the hilt in front of his waist. Grady gingerly did as he was told and stretched his hand out to the hilt of the sword.

  ‘Now ...’ started Ms Maladicta, but before she could continue Grady felt a sudden surge of magic as, without thinking or even understanding what he was doing, he waved his wand over the top of the hand holding the sword. A bright red glow suddenly engulfed his hand and the sword hilt. The stone knight suddenly dipped his head towards Grady and lifted his visor. Grady jumped back in surprise, tripping over his bag as he did so.

  ‘Welcome to my classroom, Master Grady,’ said the statue in a strong deep voice. ‘If you ever need me, simply call for Sir Wincealot and I will attend to your summons.’

  At this the statue closed its visor again and stood erect and motionless.

  ‘Who taught you to do that!’ said Ms Maladicta looking flustered, annoyed, and amazed all at the same time.

  ‘No one,’ said Grady, picking himself up off the floor. ‘Was it wrong?’

  ‘No it wasn’t, which is why I’m trying to figure out what else you might know that you shouldn’t. That sort of magic is only known to the teachers and principal, so who might have taught you is the question I have. Has Murdock been giving you some tips he shouldn’t have?’

  ‘No Miss, he hasn’t,’ said Grady a little sheepishly. ‘Honestly. It just seemed like I knew what was needed. I just asked the statue to bond me and it did!’

  ‘Well I don’t know about that,’ huffed Ms Maladicta, ‘but we’ll talk about this later. Just don’t ever do magic you aren’t sure of in future. That could have been very dangerous, young man.’ Recovering her composure somewhat Ms Maladicta turned to Niamh. ‘And don’t you think of trying it either, young lady. Goodness knows what your parents would think if we went round letting you try out special spells like that unsupervised! Into your classroom with you!’ She turned on her heels and opened up the tall wooden door with glass panels which lead into the classroom.

  As they entered, every child in the class turned to look at the new arrivals.

  ‘There you are!’ squeaked a short elf-like woman in a severe gown not unlike Ms Maladicta’s, but with the addition of a blue cardigan and spectacles. Her hair was tied up in a bun behind her head making her look a little old, but Niamh could see from the sparkling bright green eyes and lack of lines around her face that she was probably younger than she looked. ‘I wondered when you were going to get here.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Hooverbent,’ said Ms Maladicta. ‘We came as soon as we needed to and not a moment before we should have. So try not to sound so surprised to see us,’ she said haughtily.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Malignata. Don’t be so grumpy. We’ve only just got back to school!’

  Ms Maladicta looked taken aback to have her first name used, but gathered herself and continued; ‘This is your new charge – Grady – who has already shown a surprising and somewhat worrying ability to use magic when he shouldn’t, so I would keep my eyes open if I were you.’

  The other children in the class had started whispering among themselves as the teachers were talking. ‘I don’t recall asking for comments from anyone,’ said the diminutive Mrs Hooverbent turning back to the class. ‘But since you all seem to have found your voices you can wish your new classmate a good morning, please.’ As one the children responded with a bright and badly coordinated ‘Good morning Grady.’

  ‘Now, we’ve kept a space for you between Tulliah and Hugh, Grady, so why don’t you rack your broomstick along with the others over there and then sit down so we can start the day,’ said Mrs Hooverbent.

  Grady hadn’t noticed the two children when he entered the room but smiled weakly at them as he parked up his broomstick. As he did so he could hear whispering around the classroom – ‘It’s a Fitzhollow and Hooligan – look at the wood, those bristles look fast even standing still!’ There were lots of other comments on the same theme of what an awesome broomstick Grady was carrying and how everyone else wanted to get a hold of it. Grady didn’t react, but secretly enjoyed the attention given to HIS broomstick.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then, Griselda,’ said Ms Maladicta – obviously using Mrs Hooverbent’s name deliberately as payback for her own name being used earlier.

  ‘Thank you, Ms Maladicta,’ said Mrs Hooverbent quite formally, but smiling all the same as she obviously understood the not so subtle message from her principal about using first names.

  ‘Good luck, Grady,’ said Niamh, stepping over and giving him a quick hug.

  ‘Ohhhh. Look at his big sister giving her little brother a huggy wuggy,’ said a sour-looking boy at the back of the class as another equally sour-looking boy chuckled with him.

  ‘Don’t be rude, Blaine Billingsgate,’ said Tulliah, standing up and walking over to Grady. ‘If you’re not careful I’ll tell everyone about what happened to you in the toilets last term.’ The rest of the class giggled as Blaine glowered at Tulliah and muttered something to his friend under his breath.

  ‘What happened last term?’ said Grady quietly to Tulliah.

  ‘He sat on the toilet and his fat bottom got stuck!’ she whispered to Grady. ‘We had to get the janitor and his assistant to try to get him out but he was wedged in! They eventually had to use a slippery spell on him which then kept making his trousers fall down. It was so funny,’ she giggled.

  ‘That’s enough now,’ said Mrs Hooverbent, clapping her hands. ‘Back to your seats please.’

  ‘Come on, my dear,’ said Ms Maladicta to Niamh. ‘Let’s get you to your class.’

  They left and closed the door behind them as Grady settled down in the space between Hugh and Tulliah.

  As the door closed Niamh heard Mrs Hooverbent saying, ‘Now that Grady is here we can start roll call. iWands out please and be ready to cast your present and correct spell
.’

  The door swung shut behind Niamh cutting off any more sounds. Ms Maladicta paused for a moment and gave Niamh an appraising look over the top of her spectacles. ‘I hope we’re not going to have trouble with that brother of yours. Is he always that careless with spells?’

  Niamh grinned as she replied. ‘He’s careless with pretty much everything and he’s pretty good at causing trouble, I think.’

  ‘Well he’ll need to watch what he does with that wand of his. It could get him into more trouble than he is ready for, I think.’ Adjusting her spectacles and giving Niamh the first smile she had seen on the principal’s face, the tall witch headed off down the corridor. ‘Follow me now, Niamh. Time to get you to your class.’

  A short walk down the corridor took them to a flight of stairs with a huge slab of stained glass that stretched from the ground floor just below them to the top floor of the school.

  ‘Your year is on the floor above, Niamh,’ said Ms Maladicta. ‘Each floor holds three years of students, and yours – year seven – is on the third floor. The ground floor has the dining room where you take your lunch each day, which I’ve no doubt your brother will take great pleasure in heading to as often as he can.’ Niamh had to walk quickly to keep up with the principal as they started to climb the stairs. Niamh could now see the stained glass was a picture of various wizards and witches from history. They each seemed to have different clothes which looked older the higher they climbed. Ms Maladicta noticed Niamh looking at the faces staring at them from the glass. ‘They are pictures of famous ex-students of ours,’ said the principal. ‘That one there became the head of the wizard council in 1658,’ she said, pointing to a particularly bold-looking wizard on a broomstick with a long robe and beard, ‘and that one over there,’ she said, without breaking stride while pointing to a familiar-looking witch who was juggling fire and water, ‘is your mother, I do believe.’ Niamh just about tripped over as she heard that piece of news. Staring up at the picture she realised the face looked much younger, but it was definitely her mother.