Read The Legend of Brandice May Page 4


  Chapter 4

  Halloween night arrived and Lawrence’s plans were set. At eight pm exactly he scrambled into the clearing. The forest was as dark as pitch and lay deathly still. Not a single star dared sneak out and the moon hid nervously behind a cloud.

  Lawrence shinned up the same tree as last time, praying Brandice wouldn’t think him brave or silly enough to use the same hiding place twice. Tonight he was very cleverly camouflaged and had even brushed his face with mud. His watch flashed eight thirty, yet the witch still hadn’t left the cottage. Lawrence’s limbs started to stiffen up, while he worried she may not leave at all. At least there was no sign of those nasty shadows.

  Suddenly a dull droning grew far off in the forest. The weird, unsettling noise crashed through the trees, swirled round the cottage three times and shot down the chimney. Then the garden lit up, the cottage door flew open and the evil witch strode down the path and out the gate. Bathed in strange yellow light, her face looked even uglier than before, and she was dressed from head to toe in a long black cape. A tall pointy hat sat proudly on her bulgy head, bearing a large purple symbol that glowed strangely in the darkness.

  She raised her bony hand up high. Night sky cleared for a second, the moon wobbled and dulled and her face became brighter. Taking a large breath of night air, she snapped her fingers, transformed into eerie black mist and swirled round the trees cackling. Then she flew off deep into the woods, brushing the highest treetops and showering them with smouldering sparks.

  Lawrence slid down the tree, pressing a stick carefully towards the gate. The protective dome activated, leaving the stick whole. Feeling braver, he pushed his hand into the soft light, almost touching the gate beyond. This wasn’t good enough though. Lucy sneaked out the door and sat inches away, looking very proud of him. Lawrence could see other cats milling round inside, afraid to join her.

  Lucy got up and sat back down at the back of the cottage. Lawrence watched her closely as her fur shone brightly. He realised she marked a place slightly darker than the rest, and perhaps she’d been sneakily weakening it all this time. In his pocket the tiny bag of church soil started to warm. This seemed his only chance. Holding it out in front he lined up, took a long run up, quickly hitting full speed. Just before he hit the shimmering dome he felt a whoosh of warm energy build up behind. In a blurring flash he broke through the yellow light, colliding heavily with the cottage wall.

  There was no time to waste because the witch may have left some sort of alarm, so ignoring the pain Lawrence ran straight into the front room. Dozens of cats sat there purring with excitement at his presence. Just as he’d thought, he recognised most of them.

  The floor and shelves were filled with black potions, magical books and secret messages addressed to Brandice May. Most were from evil witches asking for advice on creating new spells, or looking for interesting ways to terrorize villagers. Each one she replied to would have to send her tributes of power. There were so many of these notes that Brandice must be a very powerful witch indeed by now.

  In the tiny kitchen an enormous black cauldron hung over a roaring fire. Red hot liquid inside bubbled and hissed. As the stinking mixture folded over and over, huge dollops of thick yellow slime swam to the surface, spitting out clouds of choking black smoke.

  Lawrence’s eyes stung, his ears rang and he forgot where he was for a few minutes. In the confusion he nearly ended up in the cauldron after bouncing off a wall. The moment his eyes cleared he reached for his bag of soil, quickly pouring some in the mix.

  Then the evil black shadows appeared. Some had been hiding in the roof and in the cauldron itself. Seeing Lawrence was trying to damage the cauldron they swarmed round, buffeting him from all sides. Many moaned, making terrible smells. One let out a piercing wail that pounded his ears. Despite their stinging attack Lawrence knew they were too late and threw the bag inside the cauldron.

  Brandice’s dome outside flashed a brilliant blue, blowing up in plumes of smoke. Meanwhile a powerful hum built in the cauldron, which thrashed around wildly. Lucy meowed loudly and sprang out the front door. Other cats filed out after her, waiting at the gate to make sure Lawrence made it out safely.

  All watched from a safe distance as the cottage bulged out dangerously at one side. Tiny red specks flashed out through the roof, shooting off into the forest with a wailing sound. Through the open door all could see the cauldron glowing bright red. It spun up in the air with a mighty whoosh, exploding outwards in a shower of bright, colourful sparks.

  Night closed in, and for the next minute all became black and still. Then a nightingale sang a warming tune from up high to the sound of animals waking in the bushes. The pale moon proudly lit a circle of moulding stone covered by thick brambles and Lawrence gasped in triumph.

  “Let’s go everyone, we’re safe now,” Lawrence said, leading the way.

  At nine thirty a tired young boy shuffled down a deserted street, followed by a large troop of cats. Lucy walked proudly at their head. It was quite a striking sight. Mr Davis, who was driving his wife home stopped to lend a hand, offering to take some to their owners.

  “Well done Lawrence, excellent work,” he beamed, “Its adventures like yours that make me want to be a kid again!”

  Back in the woods the smell of a gigantic bonfire and sounds of haunting music drifted over the deserted clearing. Air shifted, swirling this way and that as a misty darkness whirled around the brushwood, whipping up a growing storm of soil and rotting ferns. Only the forest heard the deafening scream of disappointment before it faded to nothing.

  At home mum couldn’t quite believe all the details of Lawrence’s story, but felt proud that he’d finally found Lucy and hadn’t given up on a friend. She looked forward to going out on long walks with them both like they used to. And she laughed as the adorable cat played fetch, knowing Lucy was very kind and probably only did so to amuse them.

  Last night Lucy was visited by a very polite gentleman caller, a friendly blue Persian named Caspar. Tonight, under the soothing light of the new moon she purred happily from her basket as Lawrence set to work changing his lab back to a playroom for them all.