Help! I'm Trapped at Witch School
Page 10
Arwen screams. Dominique gets behind her. She’s changed her prop into a spoon. She’s holding it over Arwen’s shoulder.
Shalini and Jess stand side by side with me, their spoons aimed into the stone-filled doorway.
The biggest chunk of granite falls forward and we jump back. I see hairy legs and black eyes and a wonky smile.
“BRUCE!”
Dominique’s scream is louder and screechier than Arwen’s.
“IT’S A TOADSPIT TERROR!” she screams.
I turn to her.
“You are mistaken, Dominique,” I say. “Bruce is not A Toadspit Terror. Bruce is MY Toadspit Terror.”
I help him out of the rubble and he lowers his head, like a dog wanting a scratch behind the ears. I can’t see any ears so I scratch the top of his head-body. Dominique is now doing a look from The Book of Flabbergasted.
“Twink. Look,” says Shalini.
As previously mentioned, “Twink, look,” is not my favourite phrase because it is NEVER followed by—
“That’s awesome!” says Jess.
I look behind Bruce. Jess and Shalini are at the golden door. They’re staring down a tunnel of shiny whiteness. A tunnel made of spider silk. It’s glittering with pink and grey. It looks solid. Much safer than a witchwood tunnel.
I smile and the smile turns into a grin as the thought that came with the smile turns into an idea and that idea is ac-chew-ally the best idea of GENIUS I have ever had in my entire life.
I point down the tunnel. “To the dining hall, Bruce!”
I run. I run through the tunnel and Bruce follows with a sort of sideways spider gallop. I hear Jess whooping behind us and Shalini laughing. I have no idea whether Dominique and Arwen are running. I suspect not.
The tunnel ends and I am back just beyond the entrance to the East Wing. I don’t stop. I race up the stairs and through the corridors. I have a performance to get to.
I reach the doors. I hesitate. I turn to Bruce and say, “Wait.” He does his quirky smile and obeys me. I hurriedly pay my respects to the witchwood and run into the dining hall. No one notices.
The girls are all assembled, ready for food. Dinner has not been served! The grandfather clock strikes one. Time to leave! The maintenance team is at the teachers’ table. Ms Sage is at the door to the kitchen, looking dishevelled. Ms Thorn is there too. SHE’S COVERED IN GLOOP! There is an absolute absence of smile.
I run and leap on to the stage. “WITCHES!” I shout. I act important and wait for someone to notice. Ms Sage is first. She claps her hands for silence. She gets it.
I thank her. I begin with a bow and talk fast.
“Fair witches of Toadspit, since the deceasement of Ms Ursula Toadspit,” I nod towards my greats-grandma’s doll on the shelf, “and the removal of her protections, our school hath been in the direst danger.” I add in the hath to remind them all I am still a Shakespearean actress. “In danger from Marietta Toadspit’s charms, curses and trials. In danger from ac-chew-al granite blocks falling down on our ac-chew-al heads and crushing us, maiming us, squishing us…”
Ms Thorn is ignoring me. She’s drying off the gloop with her spoon. I move on.
“Ms Rowanstall and the maintenance team have been maintaining as fast as they can but they are exhausted. Lessons have been cancelled as Essential Toadspit Tasks have been increased.”
Jess and Shalini run in. They’re panting and glancing behind them with big grins. They give me the thumbs-up.
I pause and look meaningfully at the audience.
“As previously mentioned by Ms Sage, the school was close to CLOSING.”
I pause again for extra dramatic effect.
“This did not bode well for the future.”
I pause again. Ms Sage approaches. She’s doing the curious-eyebrow look.
“However, I have news. I have news of a NEW FUTURE. A future of stability and strength. A future of solidity and sturdiness. A future of creativity and beauty.”
I raise my hand and point to the B&B charm.
“I have, with the help of my friends, survived the Trials of Marietta Toadspit in the darkest reaches of the East Wing. I have won the Best and Brightest charm. But that is not important.” With a flourish towards the dining-hall doors I say in a voice of joy, “This is important. Witches of Toadspit. I give you…” Now for the big pause. “…BRUCE THE SPIDER!”
Right on cue Bruce gallops into the room.
There’s immediate CHAOS! Screams! Shouts! Chairs crashing. Tables toppling. Ms Rowanstall falls backwards off her chair. Ms Brambury and Ms Lovage leap up and aim their spoons.
I hold up my hand for silence. I don’t get it. Bruce bounces on to the stage next to me and turns to face the witches. He clicks his fangs. Everyone shuts up and freezes with fear. I place my hand on his head-body. I pat him to show everyone that I am the Queen of the Spiders. I briefly wonder whether a prop is needed. A crown? A tiara. People are restless. I perform.
“Witches of Toadspit! Behold Bruce! The spinner of silk. The spinner of strength. The spinner of awesomeness! The SAVIOUR of Toadspit Towers!”
There are so many LOOKS. Looks of fear. Looks of fright. Looks of terror. Looks from The Book of I am Scared of the HUGE SCARY SPIDER!
They’re just beginning to settle down when we hear screaming from the corridor and Dominique and Arwen dash into the hall. Their screaming is LOUD because they’re being chased by an ac-chew-al army of Toadspit Terrors!
We have chaos again. Screaming can get very annoying and now there’s also mayhem and madness! The witchwood cats are meowing their flutey meows. They’re leaving the roots, joining the girls and teachers as if they’re trying to calm them down. Oddbod jumps on to the stage and leaps into my arms. I catch him. He leans forward and sniffs Bruce, tickling him with his whiskers. He’s purring.
Dominique and Arwen dash to Ms Thorn. They’re jibbering and jabbering and pointing at me. Ms Thorn does the curious-eyebrow look at them and then she aims it at me and Bruce and Oddbod. I name it the extremely-curious-eyebrow look. There is still an absence of smile but no one would smile if they’ve just been covered in gloop.
Jess and Shalini join them and now they’re jibbering and jabbering and pointing at me. Ms Thorn holds her hand up and they all stop talking. They take a step back. She points her spoon at the rest of the gloop covering her outfit, it changes to dust and she brushes it off. She’s still looking at me. There is still an absence of smile.
I suspect Ms Thorn is allergic to chaos. I must stop the chaos. I face Bruce. I stare into his eyes. All of them. I cross my arms, tap my foot and raise my eyebrow. He understands. He clicks his nippers once. The army of spiders gather behind us on the stage. He clicks once more. They sit down, like well-trained dogs. Legs crossed neatly. The screaming drops to whimpering.
I keep one hand on Bruce’s head-body and I cross my eyes. I picture a picture in my zen space. I uncross them. I see the picture in Bruce’s eyes. He blinks and it’s gone. He’s ready. So am I.
I open my arms to the audience. “Witches. Behold the power of the Toadspit Terrors!” I step back. “BRUCE! SAVE THE SCHOOL!”
Bruce retreats to the back of the stage, the smaller spiders move sideways. He clicks instructions. The spiders fan out across the walls, avoiding the windows and the doors, the witchwood and the dolls.
Bruce spins. One, two, three … eight threads. The terrors catch them and pass them, pulling, twisting, sticking, webbing thinner silken threads between the thick threads. Bruce plucks the web and the air fills with thrumming. Thruuuummmmmmbbbbb.
I cross my eyes and look beyond. The silk is sinking into the granite. Bonding with the stone. Weaving through the atoms.
I hear gasping. I hear whispering. I hear laughing. I hear clapping and I open my eyes.
It’s working! The spiders are spreading out across the stone. More spiders are joining in. They’re crawling out of every crack, scuttling from the witchwood roots and the thruuuuummmbing grows louder and lo
uder and louder and I am filled with joy.
There’s no more crumbling granite. No more falling-down building. Just strong, smooth, silky walls of sparkly white, grey and pink. The sunshine shining through the stained-glass windows and doors lights up the walls with pictures and patterns that shift and change as if a breeze is blowing.
Ms Lobelia dashes through the garden doors. “What’s happening to the school?” she booms. “The towers are turning white and…” Her voice trails away as she sees the spinning spiders and the colours drifting across the walls. The spiders are transforming the hall from a crumbling, derelict building into a hall of magnificence.
Ms Lobelia is doing a look from The Book of THIS IS AWESOME! She throws back her head and booms, “THIS IS AWESOME!”
The room erupts with laughter.
Ms Sage is clapping and clapping like a sea lion who’s just seen a bucket of cod. And Ms Thorn…
…is giving me the oddest look.
It isn’t a smile.
It isn’t a grin.
I think it’s…
Gratitude… Pleasure… Happiness!
And … it’s gone.
Ms Sage distracts me. She climbs on to the stage. She grabs me. She hugs me. She turns to the girls. There’s jumping up and down with excitement as Bruce and the spiders spin across the ceiling.
Jess and Shalini join us. We’re all gawping upwards.
“Oh, how wonderful!” says Ms Sage. “How perfectly stupendous! Twinkle Toadspit has Saved the School just like I knew she would. We shall all eat CAKE!”
I am just about to say OR PIE, when I look down and see Ms Thorn approaching the stage, followed by Dominique and Arwen. Shalini and Jess dash in front of them. They both look anxious.
Ms Thorn stands in front of the stage and our heads are level. She looks me straight in the eyes.
“Dominique and Arwen have provided a full report on the situation in the East Wing,” she says. Dominique is smirking. I do not believe this! Is she still trying to get me into trouble?
Jess and Shalini step between us.
“But Ms Thorn,” says Shalini. “We reported too.”
“They’re lying,” says Jess. “Whatever they’ve said, they’re lying.”
Ms Thorn ignores them. She looks over their heads at Ms Sage. “Twinkle will not have cake, Ms Sage,” she says.
What! I am too indignant to act anything but indignant. “Ms Thorn, I must protest. I—”
Ms Thorn stops me. She raises her hand and her eyebrow. “Twinkle will not have cake because she does not have time for cake.”
“But—”
“We must leave for the theatre,” she says. She hesitates and then there’s a tiny, tiny hint of a smile as she adds, “Twinkle has kept her side of the deal she made. She has not endangered the school. In fact, she has saved the school. I shall accompany her to her rehearsal and performance.”
“Yes, she has! Indeed she has,” says Ms Sage. She does more of her sea lion clapping of happiness. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure Jess and Shalini will tell me.”
Jess and Shalini jump up on the stage and there is more hugging.
“Break a leg,” says Jess.
“That means good luck,” says Shalini. “Don’t do it really.” She lets go and turns to Ms Thorn. “Ms Thorn. What about the toilets? Should we finish the toilets?” She really is obsessed. “If we don’t finish them the hex will spread and—”
Ms Sage interrupts.
“Oh, I’m sure Dominique and Arwen would be more than happy to take over that particular task while you tell me exactly what happened to cause this amazing transformation,” she says.
Dominique and Arwen both do a look from The Book of DUNGPATS AND WARTY BOILS!
“But, Ms Sage,” says Dominique.
“Off you go,” she says. “You must begin now if you are to finish before bedtime.”
They cannot resist Ms Sage’s power of persuasion. They leave. They do not strut. The do not swagger. They do the walk of failure.
Ms Thorn is looking at me. She’s tapping her cane.
“Come along, Twinkle,” she says. “You have a rehearsal to attend and a performance to perform. We must not be late.” She pauses and then adds, “Strangely, now that the school has been saved, I find I am actually looking forward to being amused by your Bottom.”
This time I definitely do see a smile.
I smile back.
Summary:
My rehearsal was the best rehearsal EVER.
Ms Thorn was amused. There was a hint of a look from The Book of Happiness and she even APPLAUDED!
I was not demoted to the WALL.
My thumb did not turn into a tree.
That night I performed my Bottom on an ac-chew-al stage in an ac-chew-al theatre and it was ac-chew-ally MAGNIFICENT!
I’m going to put family first in this batch of thank yous. Geoff, Katherine and Andy, Chris and Hannah. Thank you for your support, for allowing me to ignore you, for feeding me, for being patient, for believing in me, for being proud of my achievements and for loving me. I love you more than chocolate.
Big hugs go to agent Amber Caraveo for matching me up with the Nosy Crow team. Huge thanks to you all, especially Kirsten Stansfield, Fiona Scoble, Nicola Theobald, Rebecca Mason, Catherine Stokes, Hester Seddon and Kate Wilson for believing in Twink and working so hard to publish three books in just over a year! An awesome achievement! Hugs to Jamie Littler who once again has made me laugh with his illustrations of Twink and the gang. My favourite this book? Obviously I love the hug image but Shalini doing the splits really made me giggle.
The SCBWI BI group continues to be amazing with so many friends and colleagues sharing and recommending Witch School. Thank you!
My last big shout out goes to Angela Morton (Knitting Yarns) and the Saltburn Knitters for helping with the Awesome Toadspit Hats and featuring Get Me Out of Witch School! as part of their yarn bombing. That was a career highlight!
Copyright
First published in the UK in 2018 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 14 Baden Place, Crosby Row
London, SE1 1YW, UK
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered
trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text copyright © Em Lynas, 2018
Cover and illustrations copyright © Jamie Littler, 2018
Cover title typography © Thomas Flintham, 2018
The right of Em Lynas and Jamie Littler to be identified as the author and illustrator respectively of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
A CIP catalogue record for this book will be available from the British Library.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of Nosy Crow Ltd.
Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A.
Papers used by Nosy Crow are made from wood grown in
sustainable forests.
ISBN: 978 1 7880 0351 3
www.nosycrow.com