Potions and Pageants

by R K Dreaming

  “I’m all right,” she said in a mortified and uncharacteristically squeaky voice.

  Bella sniggered. Blanche and Barbie had clamped their hands over their mouths in shocked delight.

  Both Nan and Mrs Gooding rushed out onto the stage to check Nilgun over, but Nilgun insisted that she was perfectly well and could carry on.

  Mrs Gooding reluctantly helped Nilgun light the ends of her two batons on fire. “Good luck,” she said, looking extremely anxious as she hurried back off the stage.

  Nilgun bowed gracefully, first to the judges, and then to the crowd who cheered even louder for her. The music started, and her routine whirled into action, batons spinning so fast that they looked like circles of fire that wove in and out of her leaping, swirling arms and legs.

  Her routine was every bit as acrobatic as Bella’s had been, only better because it had fire. Nilgun did a midair somersault and as soon as she landed, she hurled both of her batons straight up into the air.

  They rose towards the ceiling, spinning over and over and a hush fell over the audience.

  Nilgun looked up, waiting for the batons to come back down, her hands outstretched to catch them and an expectant smile on her face. But then a horrible thing happened. Something else came down instead.

  One of the large spotlights from above came crashing down and struck her hard on the shoulder. Nilgun screamed. She fell over, and then she screamed even louder as her leg crumpled under her. And then her batons returned, landing on her head. Her hair caught fire. A tongue of bright flame gobbled up her beautiful black hair as if it had come to a feast.

  Mrs Gooding reacted faster than Percy would have thought possible and went rushing out onto the stage, her wand pointed out despite the watching Humbles.

  She must have whispered an incantation because the stage curtains crashed down. She used her body to block the view of whatever she did from the judges and the other competitors. Because afterwards no one could say what had really happened.

  By the time everyone else had rushed to crowd around Nilgun, the fire was out, but half of Nilgun’s hair was missing and her scalp was thoroughly singed.

  An ambulance was called. As everyone watched Nilgun being carefully carried into it on a stretcher, they whispered in shock amongst themselves, looking horrified.

  All except for Bella, who stood with her friends to one side, her hand covering her mouth, as if she was trying to cover up her despair. But Percy could full well read the expression in her eyes. It was amusement at Nilgun’s horrible misfortune.

  “I can’t believe this,” Nan was saying beside Percy. “What was it that your Mother said again? About bad things happening?”

  “Not my Mother,” said Percy. “And it’s lucky that thing didn’t land on Nilgun’s head. That’s not teenage shenanigans, that’s sabotage! I told you something bad was going to happen, didn’t I?”

  8. The Father From Hell

  Over by the ambulance, Headmistress Glory was speaking to the paramedic. She looked Percy’s way and got the oddest look on her face.

  It took a moment for Percy to realize that Headmistress Glory wasn’t looking at her, but behind her.

  Percy turned around. And then she did her very best not to give a scream of shock or rampant happiness or whatever emotion it was that was cascading inside her like a thunderous waterfall.

  A man was leaning against the wall beside the school’s main entrance, his heel propping open the door. He looked so at ease that he might have been lounging. Eating his large strawberry ice cream, he was watching the crowd gathered around the ambulance with a strange kind of casual delight, as if it was all a mildly comedic play being put on for his enjoyment.

  He was tall, with stylish dark hair and had on a pair of very nice sunglasses that looked positively rebellious. So did his snazzy, well-tailored suit and his shiny, shiny shoes. On anyone else the outfit might have screamed overpaid city slicker, but on him it all looked positively devilish.

  Alerted by Percy’s sudden gasp, Nan turned to look.

  She gave a choked sound, and then said as if she was being strangled, “Is that… Is that… That isn’t him?”

  Percy gave a great whoop of elation, and ran, and threw her arms around the man and squeezed him very tightly.

  “Hells bells,” the man said, both amusement and mild disgust in his voice. “What on earth are you doing to me, young person? Unwrap yourself from around me at once!”

  Percy looked up at him, her wide eyes begging him to recognize her.

  A mildly curious frown came onto his face. He pushed his sunglasses down his very straight nose with a single long finger. His eyes were extremely dark. Black even. And a gleam of recognition came into them.

  “Demonling? Good gracious. Is that you?”

  “Father!” said Percy with joy.

  “Demonling!” he cried. He picked her up and twirled her around. “What are you doing here?” And then, “Your sneaky, sneaky Mother. She didn’t tell me you were here.”

  “She is not my mother,” said Percy.

  “Catty!” he chided, looking amused. “Does that mean I’m not your father?”

  Percy tucked her arm into his. “Of course you are.”

  He ran a finger down a lock of her green hair. “This is not entirely displeasing.” And then he frowned at the black dress she was wearing. “Tut tut. But what is going on with the rest of you?”

  He had a cut glass English accent as if he had been educated in the poshest of schools. And he had affected a manner of speaking that made everything he said sound a little foppish, but purposefully and amusingly so, as if he was putting it on so that people could underestimate him at their peril.

  “Never mind that,” said Percy. “What are you doing here?”

  “Do you live nearby?” he said. “I really must see the rest of your wardrobe. Surely you can do better than that?”

  “Pfft! Clothes? I don’t care about clothes!”

  “Don’t care about clothes?” he said in astonishment. “But one’s appearance is the first step towards putting the fear of God into others. And if we must suffer these mortal bodies, then the very least we can do is be the best of them.”

  “You sound so vain!”

  “Vanity is my pride,” he said, looking pleased. “Now darling, lead the way!”

  Percy gave Nan a careless wave goodbye. Nan looked more than a little worried.

  As they walked arm in arm towards the school gates, her father said, “Wasn’t that an exciting little bit of mayhem, just now? I thought that dear little Humble girl was off to meet her maker for a moment.”

  “Nilgun?” said Percy. “I like Nilgun.”

  “Too bad that interfering mother witch put out the fire before things got interesting.”

  “You can’t say stuff like that out loud anymore,” she chided. “Imagine if sentinels overheard you. I bet they’d love to get their hands on a real demon.”

  “Sentinels,” he said with a shiver of delight. “I can’t wait to meet one. Mucky little eldritch-hunters. They’ll have the time of their lives trying to catch me!”

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on or not?” she demanded.

  “When we get there,” he said. “Ears are everywhere. And we don’t want the peasantry hearing our business.”

  When he got to her house he looked every bit charmed by it.

  “I do like your mortal mother’s style,” he said stroking his fingers down a large and exquisite ceramic vase that Percy was always doing her very best not to break by accident. “So opulent.”

  “Don’t be cute,” she said. “It’s nothing compared to your princely palace back at home.”

  He gave a deep sigh, and looked a little woebegone. “I hardly remember it,” he said wistfully. “You should have seen some of the terrible little rat holes here that the estate agent showed me. Back home I would have had him tickled to death for the temerity!”

  “What do you mean you don’t remember it? I’m
confused. What are you doing here?”

  A movement above caught Percy’s eye. She glanced up to see that Jeeves had discreetly poked his head through the ceiling to see who their visitor was.

  Jeeves cocked his head at Percy in an inquisitive manner. Percy shook her head at him, telling him that it was best if he did not make an appearance right now. Jeeves turned his nose up and floated away.

  Even so, Percy was paranoid that he might be lingering somewhere and listening in on the conversation, so she took her Father to her mother’s private lounge, a room that Gwendolyn had bewitched so that Jeeves could not eavesdrop on it.

  Over the mantelpiece was a large painting of Gwendolyn looking glorious in flowing emerald silk robes. Her perky pointed hat sat on her red hair at a jaunty angle, and she was twirling her wand in a mischievous manner as if warning the viewer that she was perfectly capable of horribly bewitching them with it.

  This was her mother all over — charming and a tiny little bit frightening all at once.

  “What a woman,” said her father, gazing up at the picture with adoration. “Is she here? I’d like to meet her at once.”

  “No, she’s not,” said Percy irritably.

  “Where is she?” he persisted.

  “Somewhere far, far away where you can’t get your clutches on her, so stop thinking about it,” said Percy. “Have you and Mother fallen out again?”

  Her Father wandered around the room, touching everything. The vases, the ornaments, the framed photos, the troop of little cat statues perching on the windowsill that her mother liked to collect.

  “For good this time,” he announced, not sounding the least bit unhappy about this.

  Percy groaned. “It’s a long story isn’t it?”

  He frowned, but didn’t look entirely bothered. “Probably, but I can’t… I simply can’t remember it no matter how hard I try.”

  “What happened?”

  “She insists that I’ve done something terribly horribly unacceptable and the Powers That Be have thrown me out of Hell for it.”

  “No!” Percy gasped.

  He nodded. “Banished me, would you believe? But I simply cannot for the life of me remember what it was. And the longer I spend in this mortal body, the more the memories fade. I fear that I’m going to completely forget who I am!”

  “How long have you been in this mortal body?” she asked.

  “Just a day or so,” he said mournfully. “But long enough to realize that there simply is no way to get back home that I can think of.”

  “But… But you just got here,” said Percy. “Why don’t you stay for a while and we can have some fun? There are some wonderful places in the mortal realm. Mum would never let me go visiting with her, but now that you’re here it’ll be entirely different.”

  His eyes brightened at this prospect. “Somewhere nice, is she? Somewhere hot and hellish and fun?” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Let us go there at once!”

  “Yes!” said Percy, bouncing up and down with excitement.

  She felt like her whole life had changed in a moment. Forget this mad idea of having to go to school and be responsible. Her father was here now. He could be her responsible adult, and Councilor Strickt’s stupid demands could go flying out of the window and straight into the trash!

  “Mum was in Bali, last time I heard,” Percy said excitedly. “But she was saying that she was thinking of moving on to the far east, so we’d better get in touch with her and find out where she is first.”

  His smile drooped. He suddenly looked very annoyed. “I’ll have to get her permission first,” he said mournfully.

  “Whose permission?”

  “Your Mother’s.”

  “Glory’s? Why?” Percy demanded with horror.

  “They’ve given her some sort of power to make me stay where she wants me to be. She’s refused to let me go anywhere decent. Wants me where she can keep her eye on me. It’s not even like I can get up to much, being mortal now, but you know what she’s like. So controlling!”

  He looked at Percy hopefully. “Do you think you can persuade her to let me go?”

  Percy’s heart sank. She slumped into a couch. “No way. She’ll never let you go. She’ll never let me go either,” she added sourly.

  He threw himself down on the couch beside her like a stroppy teenager.

  “Mortal,” he groaned. “Can you believe we’re all mortal now? And the worst thing is they’ve given me no magic at all. The least they could have done was let me be a wizard! Or even a werewolf, or a vampire or something half decent. But it turns out I am one of those terrible Humbles, would you believe? And so is your Mother!”

  “No,” Percy gasped. “But… but…”

  She didn’t know what she was trying to say. Just that her mind was boggled at the thought of her two extremely powerful parents being rendered virtually helpless like this.

  “Are you sure that Mother is a Humble too?” she demanded. “It’s just that she was so smug and powerful when I met with her. And she still has that way about her as if she is better than everyone else.”

  “I don’t know,” he moaned. “I assume she’s a Humble otherwise why wouldn’t she have smited me by now? You know that she’d just love to do it!”

  “But why are you both at the school? Is there a reason?”

  He gave her a helpless look. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a point. I think the whole point is punishing us by making us into Humbles and leaving us here to suffer these lives.”

  “Gosh,” she said. “I bet Glory is hating that. Does she blame you for it?”

  “No doubt,” he groaned. “She’s having a wonderful time bossing me around as if I was a mere nobody.”

  He had been lolling listlessly on the couch, swinging his legs, but then he sat up and suddenly looked sprightly again.

  “But not for long!” he declared. “I’ve decided that by hook or by crook I am going to get my powers back. And then I’ll show her who is boss. Imagine the gall! Trying to diminish me, a Lord of Hell! Insufferable!”

  “But how?” Percy asked.

  He ruffled her hair carelessly. “I’m a Lord of Hell, darling. Or I was, and will be again. All I need is a little mayhem, a little murder, and I’ll grow stronger. You’ll see. In fact, today’s little debacle with that young Humble girl snapping her leg like a stick has made me feel positively sprightly already! That was what gave me the idea!”

  “What idea?” Percy asked, feeling uneasy.

  “Trouble, darling. Trouble is my food. Trouble feeds my soul, and oh what a dastardly soul it is. Or will be again.”

  Percy frowned at him. “That’s not cool. Nilgun didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

  He ruffled her hair. “You’ve been on this mortal plane for far too long. You sound positively like that cherub you were always hanging around with. She’s not here, is she?”

  When Percy nodded, he grimaced as if the idea of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “You have to do better, darling,” he chided her, “and remember that you are your father’s daughter.”

  Percy said nothing. She had never liked it when her parents fought over who they wanted her most to be like, as if she had no right to be simply herself.

  A thought popped into her head, and frowning, she asked, “Do you think Nilgun’s accident happened because of you? I mean, bad things always happened when you were around.”

  His eyes brightened, and he rubbed his hands in glee. “I certainly hope so. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?”

  “No it would not,” said Percy shortly. “Sentinels, remember? I don’t want them to arrest you.”

  “Pfft. They’d have to find me first.”

  “And Glory will never let you leave if you’re bad. I think you should try to be good for a while and just chill out.” Her voice rose in excitement. “If you really are a Humble now, then you’re just like me. You might as well enjoy life in the mortal realm. And once
you’ve proved to Glory that you’re not a danger to anyone, then we can both do as we please. She might let us leave!”

  He shrugged. “We’ll see. Either way it’s going to be fun. By the way, darling, you need to call me Mr Lucifer Darkwing from now on. I’m your new school librarian.”

  9. The Case For Sabotage

  On Monday morning Percy should have been nervous about her first day at school, but she was so intent on speaking to Nan that everything else went out of her mind.

  She dressed in a flurry, got her uniform on wonky, stuffed the breakfast Jeeves had made for her down her throat in a great rush – much to his displeasure – and dashed out of the house so fast that she had a stitch in her side by the time she arrived at the school gate.

  She paced as she waited, intent on cornering Nan the moment she saw her. Nan had refused to answer Percy’s phone calls all yesterday evening, which had sucked because Percy had been dying to speak to her about everything Lucifer had told her.

  Finally, Percy had been forced to leave her a voicemail saying, “Sorry for running off like that yesterday. Turns out he was who we thought he was. And maybe Glory was right as well — there could be something a bit more… er… sinister at play than we thought. Call me back. I need to talk to you.”

  The problem was that Percy was not sure whether Nan had received the voicemail or not. Magic and technology did not mix well, and Percy knew that Nan kept her phone switched off and only used it in the case of emergencies.

  Hundreds of students, all strangers, filed past Percy and into the school. Many of them stared at Percy, who felt a fool in her stupid uniform that had turned up in a package in the post that morning. It had come with a passive-aggressive little note that said, “Be good,” that could only have been sent by Ruthless Glory.

  “Green hair isn’t allowed, mosshead,” said Delphine as she passed.

  “Did you want an invitation to bite me?” Percy said sweetly.

  Delphine sneered at her as she walked through the gates. She was holding hands with an older boy, who was good looking but who Percy’s suspected was not an incubus or even eldritch at all. She had an instinct for these things.