Odile got into her car – a small, unobtrusive, extremely unmagical hatchback – and started to drive towards the Old Town. But where was she going, and what was she looking for? She didn’t know. All she could do was trust some combination of her sixth sense and mother’s intuition. She drove past the hospital, with its lights all dimmed for the night, and past the Tusitala School for the Gifted, Troubled and Strange. There was the exotic pet shop. The antiquarian bookshop. The university grounds. But nothing was coming to her. She wasn’t sensing anything.
Then she saw a young man lying passed out on the ground just near the turning to the Funtime Arcade. Most people ignore young men lying passed out on the ground because most people imagine that young men are going to be drunk or grumpy or unhappy or want to tell you their life story or – worse – that they are simply pretending to be unconscious so that they can attack you when you try to help them. But Odile Underwood was a healer and could not leave someone in trouble. She parked the car at the end of the cobbled street and went to see what was wrong with the young man.
‘Uh,’ Carl said, when she shook him. ‘Uh . . .’
‘What happened to you?’ she asked.
‘Some freak put some kind of spell on me . . .’
‘Oh no!’ said Odile. This was worse than she thought. Of course, she didn’t realise that it was her son who was responsible for Carl’s thumping headache and slight giddiness. She simply assumed that there was some other dark, dangerous magic in the area. And in fact she was right.
At this moment Leonard Levar, having returned from his unscheduled trip to the Underworld, was in his bookshop preparing for an unscheduled trip to the Otherworld. He was wondering where he should sell the spectacles. Would he get a better price for them on this side or the other? He was doing a bit of research on the dim web and also having a much needed cup of coffee and a ham roll. The boys were not going to trouble him any more. He had moved them into the smaller cave and released the spiders. He’d also put a minor cloaking spell on the whole arrangement, so that people would not hear them crying out. He could pay the pet shop owner, Madame Valentin, tomorrow. She had become quite used to Levar ‘borrowing’ her animals. And she always kept her mouth shut.
‘Can you sit up?’ Odile asked Carl.
She fumbled around in her handbag. She had some ibuprofen, some Rescue Remedy, a cough sweet and some homeopathic arnica. She gave all of these to Carl, knowing, as all Proficient healers do, that one of the great secrets of medicine is not what you give, but the spirit with which you give it. Most medicines simply do whatever the patient thinks they will do, after all. Carl didn’t seem like the kind of person who would give his remedies much thought, so she simply murmured that what she was giving him would make him completely better, and that this small white pill was particularly potent and that he should only have one, or at the very most, two. The cough sweet, she told him, was so powerful it was illegal in fifteen different countries.
Carl sat up. ‘Are you a nurse?’
‘Yes,’ said Odile. ‘Nurse Underwood.’
‘Underwood?’ He had heard that name somewhere recently. Where, though? He shook his head. It didn’t help. Where was he? What was he doing here?
Nurse Underwood was now asking Carl if he had seen her son. She was describing him: eleven years old, a little overweight, glasses. Hang on! Wasn’t that the nerdy boy? But should he say anything about what had happened? Maybe she had some money to pay him. But . . . Carl’s mind felt so feeble that it seemed simpler to just tell this kind woman the truth and hope that she might give him another one of those illegal sweets and help him to his car. His car! Yes, it was still there, down at the bottom of the hill. Slowly, Carl sat up. He explained that his brother had called him to come and help him and his friend rescue some books. And yes, the friend was quite fat and nerdy and . . .
Then Effie walked around the corner, still dressed in the jeans and boots she found in the dragon’s underground castle, and still carrying the bag she had been given in the Otherworld. In it was her new passport and her M-card. It had all been real. She had emerged under a sycamore tree near the school playing field just moments after walking into the portal with Pelham Longfellow. Then, once he was sure she knew her way home, he had taken from his battered briefcase what looked like two thin sticks and a feather duster, but that turned out, when he put them together the right way and cast a small spell over them, to be a large broomstick.
‘Still the most reliable form of transport,’ he had said. ‘Call me if you need me.’ And then he was gone. Now Effie was on her way home with only one thought in her mind. She must destroy the book. Dragon’s Green. The book that had given her the most important experiences of her life so far. Her favourite ever book. It pained her to think of it, but it had to be done. Just before he’d left, Longfellow had impressed on her the need to go straight home and get on with it. ‘Otherwise,’ he’d reminded her, ‘time might change and you’ll wake up tomorrow with no passport and no memory of your visit to the mainland.’
Which would, as they say, be a fate worse than death.
But now she was walking up this cobbled street and there in front of her . . .
‘Effie Truelove?’ said Odile Underwood.
Effie, thought Carl. This was the girl his brother and his nerdy friend were trying to help. Well, maybe now she was here, she could take care of her own books. But . . . Where were the books? Where was his brother and the nerdy boy? They had been here, he remembered that. Then they were gone. The bit in between was still rather hazy. While Carl was thinking all this very, very slowly, Odile was quickly telling Effie everything she knew: that Maximilian and Wolf had disappeared, believed to be trying to rescue some books of hers.
‘My grandfather’s books!’ said Effie. ‘Leonard Levar bought them. This is the side of his shop. Wolf and Maximilian must be in there somewhere.’
‘Are they in there?’ Odile asked Carl.
‘Cave,’ he said, nodding. ‘Grille.’
Effie rushed over to the hole and looked in.
‘They’re in here,’ she said. ‘But . . . Oh no!’
‘What?’ said Odile.
‘Maximilian?’ called Effie.
It was quite dark in the cave, but in the dim candlelight Effie could see something of what the problem was. Or problems. The first thing she noticed was that Maximilian seemed to be clinging to an old light fitting in the centre of the uneven stone ceiling. This wasn’t a problem in itself, exactly, but it meant that he couldn’t help Wolf, who was lying prone on the floor below.
‘Maximilian,’ called Effie again. ‘What happened to Wolf?’
‘Spiders,’ said Maximilian. ‘Levar has shut us in with three Chilean six-eyed tarantulas. They’re deadly, apparently, unlike normal tarantulas which are just hairy and horrible and only have two eyes and . . .’
‘Did Wolf get bitten?’
‘I’m not sure he did get bitten, but he’s been unconscious for ages. Levar put a spell on both of us, but it didn’t work so well on me.’
‘OK. Let me think. Do you have the spectacles?’
‘Levar took them. And I have no M-currency left. M-currency is . . .’
‘I know what it is,’ said Effie. ‘We need to get you out. We need . . .’
‘I can’t hang on much longer,’ said Maximilian.
‘What about playing dead?’ said Effie. ‘They probably won’t bite you if you leave them alone. Could you . . .?’
‘What?’ Maximilian was slowly turning purple with the effort of clinging on.
‘I don’t know.’ Effie bit her lip. ‘We’ll get you out somehow. I just have to think . . .’
‘Have you got Wolf’s sword?’ asked Maximilian.
‘No. I could go and get it, though . . .’
‘Go now,’ said Maximilian. ‘I think Wolf might be all right once he gets it. He can use it to kill the spiders, and Levar. Then we can work out how to escape.’
Effie moved away from the hole
in the wall.
‘What about the crystal?’ said Odile quietly from somewhere behind Effie. ‘Your grandfather owned a Crystal of Healing, I believe, and— ’
‘I gave it to my friend before,’ said Effie. ‘She’s a Neophyte healer and— ’
‘Right, well, we’d better get her and the crystal down here. You don’t happen to know any true witches as well, do you?’ Odile raised her eyebrows as Effie shook her head. ‘All right. Do you have some way of getting hold of this healer? Have you got a pager?’
Effie shook her head again. ‘No,’ she said. But then she remembered the walkie-talkie radio. ‘Actually . . . Yes. If I can get home I can radio her.’
‘Good. And ask her if she knows a witch.’
Carl started staggering off towards his car. Effie and Odile ran down to Odile’s hatchback and got in. Effie hurriedly gave Odile directions while trying to explain that she had a weapon that only Wolf could use, that might be of help to him if he had to fight his way out. Of course, he’d have to be healed first and . . . Her head was swimming with all this new information.
So Wolf was her friend after all. He’d been trying to help her. But what if he was dead? She could see what Levar had done. The boys – both troublemakers who had been on detention earlier that day – had broken into the storeroom at the back of his bookshop, and how could it be his fault if some spiders had escaped from the pet shop next door and bitten them? She could just see him getting away with this – not just taking her books, but murdering her friends, too.
Unless she could find a way to stop him.
30
Effie let herself into her house as quietly as she could. She’d seen from the clock in Nurse Underwood’s car that she’d been gone for just over an hour in Realworld time. If anyone asked, she could say she just slipped out for . . . For what? What does someone slip out for on a cold Monday evening, after they’ve been told to go to bed without any supper?
Food. Of course. She could say she’d become desperate and gone to the chip shop. She’d be in more trouble, but at least it was more realistic than trying to explain where she’d actually been. Effie didn’t dare hope that she’d ever again know the kind version of her father and Cait that she’d met at the beginning of Dragon’s Green.
Mind you, how kind had those fictional parents been, really, shipping her off just like that to the Princess School where she would have had a 50 percent chance of being eaten by a dragon? But it had been nice to have her father make her breakfast. Effie would always remember that, even though it hadn’t been real.
Luckily, the house was now in darkness. Everyone was in bed.
Orwell and Cait didn’t like getting up in the night, so it was always Effie who gave baby Luna her bottle, rearranged her blanket, or picked up her favourite toy monster from the floor. Had Luna cried and alerted her parents to her sister’s disappearance? It seemed not. When Effie got to her bedroom, she could see that Luna was sleeping soundly.
She got out the walkie-talkie and radioed Lexy as quietly as she could. Then she found Wolf’s sword, and the other items that Dr Black had given her – including the strange stick her grandfather had called a ‘wonde’ – and put them in her new bag. She took another spoonful of her grandfather’s damson jam. And then . . .
The book. Dragon’s Green. She knew she was supposed to destroy it, but she didn’t have time now, with one friend clinging on to a light fitting in a cave full of spiders and another lying perhaps dead on the floor. She had to just take what would help them and hurry. And the book would be safe here for a while longer, surely? She should hide it, though, just in case. But where? She thought for a moment, but couldn’t come up with anything very good, except . . . Maybe . . .
After she had hidden the book as best she could, she threw the jar of damson jam in her bag and left as quickly as she had come in.
‘Let’s get Lexy,’ said Effie to Odile as she got back in the car. ‘She said she’d meet us on Black Pig Corner by the bus stop. It’s just up here, and turn left.’
When they got there, Lexy wasn’t alone. Another girl was standing there with her, wearing a long black coat and a slightly pointed woolly hat.
‘You said you needed a witch,’ said Lexy. ‘So . . .’
‘Hello,’ said Raven, with a shy smile.
‘You’re a witch?’ said Effie.
‘Not a very powerful one,’ said Raven. ‘But I can try to help. I cycled here as fast as I could.’
As usual, no one had even noticed when Raven had left the house. Torben was still presumably in the process of serenading her mother, or possibly the publisher Skylurian Midzhar, and after a few drinks Laurel Wilde wouldn’t have noticed if her daughter had boarded a rocket and gone to the moon.
Still, Raven wondered what her mother would say if she knew that her daughter was out right now, with her black nightdress on under her coat (well, it looked almost like an evening gown, and Raven hadn’t had time to change), doing actual real magic with actual real friends? But of course Raven would never tell her mother about this. She just hoped some of her magic would work. She had brought her favourite wand – she’d spent her birthday money on it two years before – but it had never really felt that magical. Maybe that would change now.
They all got into the car and Odile sped off back towards the Old Town. But when they got to the bottom of the cobbled alleyway leading up to the bookshop, Odile made shooing, hurrying noises, but didn’t get out herself.
‘Aren’t you going to come with us?’ said Effie.
Odile shook her head. ‘Neophytes get weak when their parents are in their vicinity,’ she said. ‘It drains their energy. And it’s still forbidden for relatives to use magic on one another. Obviously if you weren’t here I’d have to break all the rules, but thankfully you are here. Use the crystal,’ she said to Lexy. ‘You’re a lucky girl, having that. And you,’ she said to Raven. ‘You’re here because if you really are a witch, even a Neophyte, you should be able to talk to spiders. Just ask them if they wouldn’t mind going back to the pet shop. If you are a true witch, they will do what you say.’
Raven gulped. ‘OK. I’ll try.’
‘Try hard, dear. My son’s life might depend on it.’
‘But what do we do for poor Wolf?’ said Effie.
‘Lexy will know what to do,’ said Odile. ‘Good luck.’
And then she left.
The children gathered around the hole in the wall. Maximilian was still clinging to the old light fitting. Wolf was still lying on the ground.
‘We need to give Maximilian the tonics somehow,’ said Effie to Lexy. ‘Have you got something to help Wolf?’
‘Yes,’ said Lexy. She had brought with her an embroidered bag, from which she now took a vial with a cork stopper. ‘This is a tonic of resurrection. It will only help if he’s not very seriously injured, though. If he’s been bitten, then . . .’ Lexy gulped. ‘Then I’m not sure what we’ll do.’
‘OK, we’ll get to that,’ said Effie. ‘What about these spiders? Raven?’
Raven’s hands were shaking. This, of course, was the moment she had dreamed about for her whole life. Here she was, with the very people she hoped would become her true friends. And they needed her help. Raven didn’t yet really understand how magical power worked. She didn’t, for example, know that every time she fed the birds in her garden or filled their birdbath, and every time she lit a candle for a soul in need, and every time she saved up her pocket money and gave it to charity, and every time she meditated, that her M-currency went up a tiny bit.
But she sensed that whatever small amount of magical energy she had possessed earlier today had probably been used up on her friendship spell. Especially as the spell seemed – amazingly – to have worked. But what use was a friendship spell that got you friends who then needed you mainly for the magical skills that you didn’t have any more?
Raven approached the hole in the wall and looked in. Yes, she could see one large spider scuttling acro
ss the floor. And she could sense two others. They were confused and afraid. Raven could feel that strongly. They were afraid of these large creatures – one hanging from the ceiling, waiting to pounce; the other playing dead – and they wanted to get out. The fact that she could sense all that. Did it mean . . .?
Raven had never really thought about her powers before. She had never stopped to think that her little communications with the robin in her garden, and her horse, and other creatures around the folly, were in any way properly magical. She’d had no idea that they meant she was a true witch. Now she realised that she could do something amazing; something others could not. But, of course, as soon as she became aware of it, the knack promptly left her. It’s a well-known, but extremely annoying, downside to having any unusual abilities.
As soon as Raven thought, ‘I am a true witch! Look – I can communicate with spiders!’ the whole thing stopped happening and she was just a normal girl again. The spiders went silent. The world dulled and faded a little. Oh dear. And with all her new friends standing there with such high expectations of her. She knew she had to try to relax. To breathe. To stop trying so hard.
But LIVES WERE AT RISK! Oh no – that wasn’t helping. If you want to relax you can’t think about how many lives are at risk if you don’t relax. You have to . . . What? Raven tried again to drop down into that zone of calm from which she had previously communicated with animals, but that was hard with Effie breathing so fast behind her, and Lexy letting out little yelps whenever the spider moved.
Raven needed her wand. Of course. That would help her focus. She reached into her coat pocket and drew it out. It was a thick black stick that was supposed to be a genuine hand-crafted piece of wood from a sacred tree. But she’d bought it from a mail-order catalogue she’d found in the wholefoods shop and couldn’t be at all sure where it had really come from. One of Raven’s spell books had suggested going into a forest and finding a tree yourself and using a sharp knife to slice off and then craft your own wand. But Raven couldn’t bear to hurt a tree in this way.