#1: Cauldron Cooker’s Night
by
David Anthony
and
Charles David Clasman
Knightscares #1: Cauldron Cooker’s Night
Copyright 2012 David Anthony and Charles David Clasman
Published by Sigil Publishing, LLC
No part of this publication may be reproduced in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Sigil Publishing, LLC, Box 824, Leland, MI 49654.
This book is fiction. The people, places, and events depicted within are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or to real life places is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
1. Trouble’s Brewing
2. Parent Trap
3. Cleogha
4. Broomsnake Stick
5. Cat Got Your Nose?
6. Cat Thief
7. Help Me-ow
8. Fisherman’s Fog
9. Pointy End First
10. Silver-eared Fiend
11. Hop Along, Flop Along
12. Northside Moss
13. Vanishing Act
14. Official Wizard-Seekers
15. Falling Uphill
16. Floating, Flying, Falling
17. Choose Thou Wisely
18. Impossible Possible
19. Metal Mayhem
20. Wizard Aghast
21. Midnight Snack
22. Gifts-Presents of Magic
23. Zippin’ Griffin
24. Big Double Trouble
25. Leedle Peeples
26. A Short Climb to Nowhere
27. Rude Dinner Guest
28. Book by its Cover
29. Griznt
30. Gramble Turtlecraft Extraordinaire
31. Crooning in Croneswart
32. From Mud to Beast
33. True Enemy
34. Eight-Legged Prison
35. Rosie is Real
36. Vanquished
37. Apprentice Rewards
A Map of Tiller’s Field and Surroundings
1: TROUBLE’S BREWING
“JOZLYN,” I whispered in the dark, “are you scared?” I could hear her in the bed on the other side of the room talking quietly to her pixie doll, Rosie, so I knew she was still awake.
Jozlyn didn’t call Rosie a doll. She was too old for dolls. She called Rosie her friend and behaved exactly as if Rosie was a real pixie.
“Of c-course not, Josh,” she replied in a stutter as if I’d surprised her. “But it’s all right if you are.”
Oh sure, I thought. That was just like Jozlyn. As my older sister, she thought she was smarter, faster, and stronger than I was. Now she acted like she was braver, too. She never quit.
Jozlyn had just turned thirteen. She was a teenager now. Add that to the fact that she was four inches taller than me, and she was almost impossible to live with.
I was eleven, and at that moment Jozlyn really had the upper hand. Until my birthday in three weeks, she was two years older instead of just one.
I decided to try a trick my Dad had taught me. He said that sisters don’t always tell the whole truth but their dolls usually do.
“What about Rosie?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “Is she afraid?”
I wanted to ask, “What about your little doll?” but didn’t think it was the best time to pick a fight. Even though I wouldn’t admit it to Jozlyn, I was nervous.
“Hmm,” Jozlyn mumbled. She sat up in her bed and I could see her in the dim light coming through our window.
Jozlyn’s hair was long and blonde like Mom’s. Mine is short and dark like Dad’s. Jozlyn wore a white nightgown embroidered with horses in different colors of thread. There were prancing horses, galloping horses, rearing horses, and grazing horses. Jozlyn was crazy about horses.
“Well, maybe a little scared,” she admitted, “but not too much. Rosie has magic, don’t forget.”
Here we go again, I thought, rolling my eyes. More of how Rosie isn’t just a doll. Jozlyn was always telling people that Rosie had magic like a wizard.
Or a witch.
I shivered under my blanket and hoped Jozlyn didn’t notice. Tonight was Cauldron Cooker’s Night, a holiday for witches. That was why we couldn’t sleep. We’d already been lying in our beds for a long time trying to fall asleep.
Witches rode their brooms all night long in celebration of the spooky holiday. They shrieked and cackled and kept people awake. Supposedly they also tried to catch children who weren’t asleep to throw into a big pot for a midnight snack.
So far, I hadn’t heard anything unusual. Just crickets and a dog barking. The normal nighttime sounds.
That could change at any time. A witch named Cleogha lived on the edge of town where she sold herbs, love potions, and charms to ward off trolls. Cleogha’s charms must work because I’d never seen a troll, and Tiller’s Field, where I lived, was a pretty big town.
My friend Connor claimed he had seen a troll once. But he was always making up stories, so I’m not sure I believed him. He’d said the troll had been fishing from Mosswood Bridge.
“You know, Mom and Dad will be mad if we don’t get to sleep,” Jozlyn reminded in a know-it-all voice. “We have to be up early to save a seat by the fountain to see the Fairy Troops.”
Bossing me around was her way of changing the subject. I could tell she didn’t want to talk or think about witches or their cauldrons any more than I did. Not on Cauldron Cooker’s Night, especially.
Tomorrow was the Trooping Fairy Day Parade when all the fairies from Everleaf Woods gathered to celebrate the arrival of summer. They played tiny instruments, sang songs, and put on a parade at the edge of the forest.
All the townsfolk attended the celebration. There were archery competitions, fencing, storytelling, games like unicorn horns, a pie-eating contest, and a big feast in the evening. The mysterious Wizard Ast was even going to come down from his tower to perform some magic tricks.
I really wanted to fall asleep. Nothing was more exciting than Trooping Fairy Day, except maybe my birthday. The sooner I slept, the sooner tomorrow would arrive and the fun would begin.
Not to mention that a witch wouldn’t catch me awake and stick me in her pot.
“Why don’t you hush and go to sleep yourself? I’m pretty tired,” I told Jozlyn as I faked a big yawn. “And I’m not scared one bit.”
Jozlyn harrumphed and made a big show of flopping back down on her bed. “Well, I’m not scared, and neither is Rosie.”
Even in the dim light, I knew Jozlyn was sticking her tongue out at me. I could feel it. I flopped over on my side, turning my back to her.
After that, I must have slept for a while because when I opened my eyes next pale moonlight shined in through the window. A strange noise very close by had awakened me.
Whoosh!
The noise came again.
2: PARENT TRAP
THE strange noise came from right outside our window. It sounded like a flock of large bats flapping by at high speed. I didn’t see what caused it, but the moonlight flickered as it passed.
I held my breath and didn’t move. The noise was Witch Cleogha on her broom, I just knew it. And I was awake. She was going to catch me and put me in her pot.
Whoosh!
The sound and the blink of moonlight came again. A shiver snaked its way up my back. I neede
d to—
A hand clapped over my mouth. My eyes shot wide open in alarm. I tried to shout, to call out for Mom and Dad, but couldn’t. I was trapped!
A scream built deep inside of me.
Jozlyn’s face suddenly appeared very close to mine. She looked as if she’d been sleeping. Her long hair was a mess and her blue eyes were squinting. She knelt on the floor between our beds.
She took her hand from my mouth. “Something’s out there,” she hissed. By something, she meant someone.
I nodded stiffly. “Witch Cleogha?”
Whoosh! The sound of bats zipped past again.
We both cringed at the noise. “Probably,” Jozlyn whispered, glancing apprehensively at the window.
The light hadn’t flickered this time but the noise had still come from somewhere close. Probably right over our house. Maybe over our room.
“We have to get Mom and Dad,” she said.
Staring hard at the ceiling as if I’d be able to see right through it and spot the witch on her broom, I slid from my bed and joined Jozlyn on the floor. She grabbed my hand, but I didn’t complain. Normally holding hands with your sister isn’t very grown up, but this situation was different. I think it was all right to do when a witch was flying over our house.
“Let’s go,” Jozlyn urged. She clutched Rosie in her free hand. I had to admit that even with the doll, Jozlyn was being rather brave.
Side by side, we scuttled on our hands and knees toward the open door. Neither of us liked to sleep with it completely closed.
Our house was small like most houses in Tiller’s Field, and our parents weren’t rich. Dad worked in a bakery and mom helped another lady make cloaks, dresses, tunics, and bodices.
In the evenings, we would sit around the fireplace and listen to Dad tell stories about dragons, wizards, and knights who rescued princesses held captive by goblins and trolls.
Dad had a great imagination. He would sit in his big stuffed chair and entertain us for hours with his adventurous tales. I liked the