by Kaye Umansky
Nuisance thumped his tail happily.
‘No sausages,’ said Elsie. ‘Sorry.’
Oh. His tail drooped. No sausages.
‘I promise I’ll get you some as soon as we get to the tower. Magenta’s gone missing and we have to find her. You want to come along, don’t you, boy?’
Yes! Oh yes! He wanted to come all right. This was the best thing that had happened since – well, since the last time. He wiggled out from under the sacks, jumped into Elsie’s arms and licked her chin.
‘Steady on!’ snapped Corbett, from Elsie’s shoulder. ‘You’re in my parking space.’
‘Okay, both of you, keep still,’ said Elsie. ‘I need to concentrate. We’re taking a short cut.’
And all three of them disappeared. Just like that.
Chapter Three
THE TOWER
Deep in Crookfinger Forest, the tower stood on the edge of a snow-filled glade, pointing up like a finger through the surrounding trees. All the shutters were closed. The red flag was frozen at half-mast. The doorstep was buried deep in snow. It looked lonely in the moonlight. Lonely and . . . unhappy.
And suddenly, there they were! Elsie, Nuisance and Corbett. Standing before the doorstep, their breath making little puffs in the freezing air.
‘You see, Corbett?’ said Elsie. ‘I knew it wouldn’t go off without you— hey! What’s up with you?’
Nuisance was scrabbling in her arms, desperate to be let down. At the same time, there came a sudden rustling noise from the far side of the tower, which lay deep in shadow. Followed by the crunching sound of . . . running footsteps!
Nuisance let out a shrill bark, leapt from Elsie’s arms and went bouncing across the snow in a series of stiff-legged little leaps before being swallowed by the shadows.
‘What was all that about?’ said Elsie as Nuisance’s barking receded into the distance.
‘Who knows?’ said Corbett. ‘Maybe the Howlers saw the place empty and came snooping around hoping to steal something. Or maybe someone’s already scoping it out. To see if it’s up for grabs.’
Maybe, thought Elsie. The last suggestion seemed unlikely. But it could be the Howler Sisters. She knew Nuisance really didn’t like them. Evie and Ada, two little old ladies with sweet smiles and parasols – and wolf tails – who were extremely light fingered and had a thing about buckets. On the other hand, there were two of them and it had sounded like just the one lot of footsteps.
‘Is the front door locked?’ she asked Corbett.
‘Of course,’ said Corbett. ‘I’ll fly down the chimney and get the key.’
‘Wait one second.’ Elsie crunched to the doorstep and looked up. ‘Hello, Tower,’ she said. ‘Can I come in, please?’
Instantly, with no hesitation whatsoever, the front door swung open.
In the tiny hallway, a lamp hanging on a hook glowed into life, all by itself. Elsie stepped in and Corbett flew in behind her just as the door gently closed. The floor and walls vibrated as the tower gave what felt like a little shiver of welcome combined with . . . what? Relief? Was that it? Anyway, Elsie knew it was pleased to see her.
A short time later, a cheerful fire was crackling up the chimney, the curtains were drawn and all the lamps were alight. Elsie was curled up in the rocking chair with a mug of hot cocoa and a large slice of banana cake provided by the tower’s magic larder. It was good to eat something other than tinned soup and endless eggs. She happily wiggled her toes in the heat. Corbett sat on his wooden perch in the corner, looking droopy.
Idly, Elsie conjured up a little thunderstorm in her cocoa mug. In between sips, waves rippled across the brown surface, as though blown by a tiny wind. Every so often, a tiny bolt of lightning would shoot down from the miniature cloud that hovered just above the rim, followed by a little roll of thunder. As a drink, it was both comforting and interesting.
‘We need to make a plan,’ said Elsie. ‘First, are you absolutely sure Magenta didn’t leave a note? You looked in her office?’
‘Of course. Bedroom, office, privy door, teapot, everywhere. Nothing.’
‘When it’s light, we’ll try the Spelloscope,’ said Elsie.
The Spelloscope lived at the very top of the tower. It was a long brass tube mounted on a tripod. You pressed the special magic button on the side, said the name of whoever it was you were looking for and you’d be able to see them, wherever they were, at the end of the tube! You could zoom in, zoom out, even hear them talking.
‘It’s not working,’ said Corbett. ‘The glass has cracked with the frost and the magic button’s frozen.’
‘We could try looking in the Everything You Need To Know book,’ suggested Elsie. The book had been left by Magenta the first time Elsie tower-sat and had proved very helpful. It really did seem to know everything you’d need to know.
‘The only thing we need to know is where Magenta put it. You know the state she lets the drawers get in.’
Corbett opened his beak in a huge yawn. ‘Sorry, Elsie. I haven’t been sleeping well. Can we do this in the morning? I’m too tired to think straight.’
‘Of course,’ said Elsie, yawning as she suddenly realized how tired she was too. ‘I’m ready for bed as well. I’ll just see if Nuisance is back.’
He wasn’t. The moon picked out the paw prints in the snow, leading away into the dark trees. Elsie fetched the broom and swept the doorstep clear of snow, then she made Nuisance up a little bed on the step, using the kitchen mat and the rug from the rocking chair. It was bitterly cold. He would be glad of something to snuggle into when he returned. Unasked, the tower thoughtfully conjured up two sausages from the magic larder. Elsie left them outside with a bowl of water.
She locked the door and made sure the shutters on the kitchen window were properly bolted. She cleaned her teeth, put the fire guard in place and turned out the lamps, leaving just one candle alight.
‘Good night, Corbett,’ she called softly into the dark corner. No answer. Just an exhausted snore.
Elsie took the candle and climbed the stairs to the little blue room that she had come to think of as hers. It was too dim to see much, but she could see the picture of the Emporium that hung over the bed. The image always seemed to change each time she visited. This time, the shop was covered in snow.
She had a feeling there would be new clothes waiting for her in the wardrobe – the tower seemed to enjoy spoiling her in that way – but she would wait to find out in the morning. Because that wonderful bed waited. The bed that was like floating on the softest clouds. The bed that provided the best sleep ever.
In a faraway part of the forest, Nuisance stood panting by a holly bush. He had really enjoyed the chase. It had been great! Running through a snowy forest at night was much more exciting than sitting in the middle of Smallbridge main street with his begging paw dangling, which is what he did most of the year. Chasing was doglike! It brought a shine to the eyes, a woof to the lips and a jaunty wag to the tail!
Sadly, it was over now. Rather to his surprise, whatever or whoever he had been chasing had vanished. The running footsteps had suddenly cut off. Silence. Nothing. Gone.
Nuisance stood and listened for a moment or two. He ran on a few paces so that he could tell himself he’d done a thorough job, then stopped because there was clearly no point. He might as well go back to the tower. Hopefully there would be a sausage waiting. Besides, it was getting colder. Much colder. So cold, that his nose was actually hurting. It felt as though tiny, invisible teeth were nipping it.
And then . . .
Nuisance’s ears pricked up. He heard the sound of jangling bells.
Now, jingling bells are lovely – high and silvery, gentle on the ear. But jangling bells are different. They sound harsh and tinny, like saucepans bashing together. They set your teeth on edge and make you desperately wish that they would stop.
And now these horrible, head-hurting, cracked, jangling bells were coming closer. And what were those other sounds? Crunching hooves, heavy
breathing and a sort of weird, whooshy, slithering noise . . .
Nuisance dropped onto his belly and backed bottom-first into the holly bush. Whatever was coming, he didn’t like the sound of it. He would hide in this bush and he wouldn’t move a whisker until it had gone.
Oh my! Here it was . . .
Through the trees came . . . what? Nuisance didn’t know. He had never seen anything like it!
He knew what it wasn’t. It wasn’t a wagon or a cart or a coach, because it didn’t have wheels. Nuisance knew about wheels. Back in Smallbridge, he sometimes lay on his back in the middle of the road, rolling in the dirt and causing the traffic to back up. It was doing things like that that got him his name. But this – this thing was wheelless.
Instead, it had runners. Sleek, extra-extra-long silver runners that reared up at the front, like a curling wave. The runners made it into a sleigh. But this sleigh was quite unusual. Because instead of a seat or bench on top of the runners, there was an entire house!
The house appeared to be carved entirely from ice. It had four windows and a door. Jagged icicles hung from the roof, like serrated teeth. The windows were coated with thick, black ice, so you couldn’t see inside. Whoever lived there clearly didn’t go in for flowery curtains and colourful window boxes.
The sleigh-house was pulled by – well, what else? A huge reindeer! But it wasn’t the happiest-looking of creatures. It had angry yellow teeth, angry little eyes and two enormous sets of angry antlers growing out of its broad forehead. The jangling bells hung on a chain around its neck and the reindeer was clearly not pleased about this arrangement. At a glance you could tell that any mention of toys, Santa or happy little children around this reindeer would be a bad idea.
Nuisance, staring at this extraordinary apparition from the shelter of the holly bush, could make no sense of it. Bad bells. Big, angry animal with a twig hairdo. Weird iced house on skis. Overall air of menace. (Stray dogs are good at spotting menace.)
A sharp command came from inside the sleigh house.
‘Spike! ’Old up.’
The reindeer stopped. So, thankfully, did the jangling.
The voice spoke again and this time three other voices joined in:
‘ ’Ow much furver?’ demanded the first voice impatiently.
‘Ain’t sure,’ replied a second. ‘Still a way, I fink.’
‘You found the tower, you saw the tower, and now you ain’t sure where the blinkin’ tower is. That’s what you’re tellin’ me?’
‘It’s confusin’ out there, Dad,’ whined the second. ‘All the trees look the same in the dark. An’ I ’ad a mad dog on me heels, din’ I?’
‘You shoulda frosted it!’ snapped voice one. ‘What do I keep tellin’ you? You got the power, use it!’
Voice two mumbled indistinctly.
‘What?’ said voice one. ‘What are you sayin’?’
‘Ma says we’re not to,’ mumbled voice two.
‘Well, yer ma’s not here, is she? Right now you’re with me, an’ we do fings my way, right?’
There came more indistinct mumbling from voice two.
‘So you’re tellin’ me,’ sneered voice one, ‘that a little doggy barked at you and now you can’t find the way back.’
‘I ain’t got a map in me ’ead, ’ave I?’ protested voice two.
‘You got nothin’ in your head, son. Shoulda sent yer brother to look.’
‘Like he’d do better,’ said voice two sulkily.
‘I would too!’ said a new, third voice.
‘I’m fed up of goin’ round in circles,’ broke in a fourth voice, female this time. ‘I wanna go to bed.’
‘So you shall, princess, so you shall,’ said the first voice, sweetly doting this time. ‘Spike!’ it shouted. ‘I’m callin’ it off for tonight! Find us a campsite.’
Nuisance watched as Spike the reindeer moved angrily off, evil bells jangling, hauling the strange house away through the trees.
What did it all mean?
Nuisance didn’t know. He was a dog.
He should tell Elsie. She’d know what was going on.
If only he could talk.
Chapter Four
JOEY
The following morning, when Elsie went down to the kitchen, a welcome surprise greeted her.
‘Good night’s sleep?’ said a voice through a mouthful of crunchy toast.
‘Joey!’ Elsie was delighted to see her friend. Sometimes, Joey had good ideas. And no matter what, he was always cheerful, meaning you couldn’t help being cheerful, too. Corbett was sitting on the chair back and looked like he was already in a better mood.
‘I know where Her Witchiness keeps the spare key,’ said Joey. ‘I let myself in, banked up the fire and ordered myself some breakfast. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘ ’Course not,’ said Elsie, going to the magic larder. Usually she liked to make her own breakfast, but today there were important things to do so magic would be quicker. ‘I’m so pleased you’re here.’
‘I’ve given Nuisance a breakfast sausage.’
‘Ah. He’s back then,’ said Elsie, relieved. ‘He ran off as soon as we got here last night. Chasing off an intruder.’
‘The Howler sisters, we think,’ said Corbett. ‘I must say I’m impressed you made it through the snow, Joey. Quite the hero.’
‘That’s me,’ agreed Joey.
Elsie knocked three times on the larder door. ‘Can I have toast and honey, please, Tower? And a glass of apple juice.’
‘It’s bitterly cold outside,’ said Joey. ‘I brought Bill inside to warm up. Don’t want him going rusty.’
Elsie looked over at the wire shopping basket that was currently sitting directly in front of the fire, hogging the heat and vibrating happily like a purring cat. Since they met at the Sorcerer’s Bazaar, Joey and Bill had been inseparable. Their relationship was a cross between a pet and a friend. Rather handily, Bill floated, so he was very useful on Joey’s post round.
‘Still working out, then?’ asked Elsie. ‘Bill?’
‘I’ll say. He’s perfect. Right, mate?’ He reached over and gave the basket an affectionate pat.
‘Has Corbett told you Magenta’s gone missing?’ asked Elsie. The larder door swung open, displaying Elsie’s breakfast order. ‘Thanks, Tower.’
‘Of course I did,’ said Corbett. ‘The second he arrived.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything, Joey?’
‘Well, no. But then, I haven’t talked to anyone apart from my mum since the snow came. Can’t do my round, too dangerous, health and safety and all that. I’m here on my own time. I came to check everyone’s okay, like the hero Corbett says I am.’
‘Have you been to see Sylphine?’
‘Not yet. She comes next on my heroic visiting list. Any ideas what to do about Her Witchiness?’
‘Well, for a start, the Spelloscope’s out. Corbett says it’s broken.’
‘You can forget the copy of Everything You Need To Know too. I’ve looked. Nowhere to be found,’ Corbett told her.
‘I could try looking through the spell books in the office?’ said Elsie. ‘Perhaps I can find a recipe for some sort of – I don’t know – tracking spell.’
‘You could,’ said Joey. ‘But wouldn’t it make more sense to ask her best friend?’
‘What best friend?’
‘Wendy Snipe.’
‘I wouldn’t call Wendy her best friend,’ said Elsie. ‘Magenta doesn’t even like her much.’
‘So? Her Witchiness doesn’t like anybody much, and besides, Wendy and her friends know all the gossip going round.’
Elsie had met Wendy Snipe (the Wise Woman of Clackham Common) and her two friends, Maureen (the Hag of Heaving Heath) and Madame Shirley (Fortune Teller To The Stars) a few times now, and Joey was right. If anyone knew where Magenta was, they would.
‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘But I can’t take a short cut like I did from Smallbridge to here, because I’ve never b
een to Wendy’s cottage, so I can’t picture it in my head.’
‘We can go the old-fashioned way and walk together,’ said Joey. ‘I know where she lives because I deliver her post, remember? She runs a wise woman business, and gets all these cards saying Thanks For Your Great Wisdom.’ He gave a little chuckle. ‘I think she sends them to herself because they’re all in the same handwriting.’
‘Thanks,’ said Elsie gratefully. ‘I was hoping you’d come.’
‘We should top up on toast now because we won’t get anything nice to eat when we get there,’ went on Joey. ‘I’ve been delivering to her for ever and never even been offered a cup of tea. She always claims she’s out of milk. What about you, Corbs? You coming?’
‘I’ll stay here,’ said Corbett. ‘I shouldn’t leave the tower alone and someone needs to be in if . . . when Magenta gets back. Be as quick as you can, though, Elsie. The tower shouldn’t be without a witch for too long.’
Chapter Five
SYLPHINE
Sylphine Greenmantle – real name Aggie Wiggins – wasn’t crazy about snow. She didn’t have the right sort of clothes, as her wardrobe was more suited to dancing barefoot under the moon on summer nights. Sylphine had an image of herself as some magical fairy creature. She favoured long, wafty dresses and floaty scarves, mostly in green, because green was what wood sprites wore. And she had masses of wild, free-flowing hair, which she liked to put flowers in. It was wasted under a woolly hat.
The snow had made a lot of work for Sylphine, too. She was mad about animals and her garden was filled with scratching posts and ponds and food trays and encouraging little notices of welcome to entice the local wildlife. Mostly, animals tried to avoid Sylphine’s cottage for fear of being caught and hugged into submission. But since the snow, every hungry creature had been turning up and eating all the food she put out. This was good, because her garden was stuffed with animal visitors, but bad because she spent all her time wrestling sacks of pellets and bales of straw up from the cellar, while wearing ugly, clumpy work boots teamed with an awful warm brown coat given to her by her grandma.
