by Crowl, Mike
Ligula said, ‘Discover might not be quite the word. Someone told us the secret...with a little persuasion!’
‘Lots of persuasion, you mean,’ said Necessita.
Venska tried to take control of the story again. ‘It turned out we only had to find the male descendant of a good witch... ‘
‘And take his blood,’ interrupted Necessita.
‘All his blood,’ whispered Ligula.
Slaggard lifted up the large needle. It was attached to the tube, and the tube to the blood bag.
Billy hoped Ligula didn’t mean what she said. But then she shouted to all the others, ‘Every last drop of it!’ and he knew she did mean it. She began to laugh, dancing up and down on the spot.
‘But I’m not the son of a witch,’ shouted Billy, trying to think of anything but losing all his blood.
‘So you say,’ said Venska. ‘You think your precious mother that you miss so much is an ordinary everyday person like your boring father. I’m sorry, or rather, I’m happy to tell you, she’s anything but ordinary.’
Jerry gave a terrible cry. ‘No!’ He pulled with all his might against the cords binding him.
‘Not only is your mother a witch, but she’s descended from those stupid witches who decided to do...good. Which means that you, being a male, have the blood we’re looking for. ’
Ligula, determined to get a word in, interrupted again. ‘That wretched mother of yours put all sorts of confusions in our way.’ She leaned over the trolley and whispered in his ear again. ‘Nevertheless, here you are. And here’s your blood! Let’s see what it can do!’ She snatched up one of the capsules, much to Slaggard’s annoyance, and ran away from the other witches, towards a large open area further down the enormous dungeon.
But Venska wasn’t prepared to let her steal her thunder, and nor were the other witches. They all gave chase, screaming - piercing, awful screams; the worst thing was the humans couldn’t cover their ears. Venska caught up with Ligula very quickly. Next thing they were fighting with each other, scratching at each other, pulling each other’s hair and much worse.
Metabola ran as fast as she could towards them. ‘Don’t drop the blood!’ she yelled. ‘You can’t afford to lose any of it!’ The two witches ignored her. ‘Lavitch!’ she shouted. ‘Pull them apart!’
But he wouldn’t do it. ‘I’m not getting magicked by them!’ he yelled back.
‘How dare you disobey me!’ shouted Metabola. She waved her wand angrily at him. He crumpled, and his great bulk seemed to shrivel. He crept away on his hands and knees towards the side of the dungeon, as far away as possible from the witches.
Slaggard of course was no help. Featherweight that he was, he’d been knocked aside by Ligula’s elbow as she grabbed at the capsule, and had gone slithering across the floor, where he sat stunned, the large needle, the tube and the blood bag spread around him.
Olivia had been left standing on her own, forgotten by the two witches who’d been guarding her in their haste to get involved with the fray. Still unable to open her lips, she ran across to Billy, and tried to undo the straps with her hands as best she could. It was much more difficult than she expected because they’d been pulled so tight by Lavitch.
‘Don’t worry about the straps! Grab the other capsule!’ hissed Billy. ‘Hide it somewhere. Quick!’ Olivia grabbed it and hid it so quickly Billy didn’t even see where she’d put it. Then she pulled at the straps again, and with great determination managed to get one undone.
Ligula and Venska were still squabbling and screaming, and not even Metabola’s threats to use her magic made them stop. Ligula managed to hold the capsule of blood high above her head with one hand while fending off Venska with the other. She had extraordinary strength, most probably helped by her desire to be the first to use some of Billy’s blood.
Necessita offered to take it from her to stop it falling, and got spat on.
Now Olivia had another strap undone and then a third, and finally Billy was free. He slid down off the bed as quietly as he could, so as not to attract any attention. Lavitch was squatting on the floor hugging himself and moaning, and Slaggard was still dazed.
They ran towards the three prisoners. Jerry whispered, ‘Leave us, Billy. Get out of here.’
‘I can’t leave you, Dad.’ He and Olivia tried to undo the cords. It was hopeless: the magic strength holding the adults’ bonds in place was far too strong for any human fingers. ‘Dad, I can’t loosen them.’
‘Billy, get away!’ said Jerry.
A piercing scream made them all look towards the witches. Venska had torn a great gouge in Ligula’s cheek with her fingernails. Necessita grabbed Venska, and held her back from doing more damage, but then Venska turned on her, pulling her hair hard down over her face so that she couldn’t see. Her arms flailed. Ligula drew her wand and aimed it at Venska. Metabola also had her wand out, aiming it at Ligula. It was an impasse.
‘Give me the blood, Ligula, and your stupidity will be forgotten,’ snarled Venska, holding Necessita, frustrated and kicking, at arm’s length.
‘You have no authority over me,’ said Ligula. She lifted the capsule even higher above her head, taunting Venska. ‘And you have no right to be the first to undo the curse.’ Venska threatened to attack her again, but now three or four other witches held her back.
Ligula let go of the capsule at the same time as she waved her wand at it. Instead of dropping to the floor, it floated up, high above her head, well out of anyone’s reach. Everyone watched spellbound as it moved gently away, further down the room. At first it drifted this way and then that way, and then finally, to Ligula’s great delight, it hovered in one place and began to twist and shiver.
She gave a howl of triumph and flicked her wand at the capsule. It burst open. Billy’s blood flew out, then hung in the air, spread like a tiny red cloud. It broke apart into hundreds of droplets and splattered itself over one particular area of the room. The droplets began to drip down on invisible shapes, and then moment by moment objects became visible. Beautifully crafted goblets and silver plates appeared; stacks of large gold bars with strange writing on them; chests of different sizes with innumerable jewels glittering and sparkling; ugly but perfectly formed statues of all manner of unknown creatures. There was an enormous hoard of the stuff, enough to satisfy thirteen thousand witches, let alone thirteen.
Chapter 12 - The treasure
The witches swarmed greedily around the treasure, and before they’d even begun to admire what was in front of them they were fighting over who should have what. Billy, Olivia and the three prisoners watched in astonishment as the smartly-dressed women in their corporate suits became raging viragos. Even Metabola joined in.
‘Dad, we have to get away!’ said Billy.
‘I can’t get out of these blasted cords!’
‘Use your pocketknife, Billy!’ said Olivia, the spell on her lips having suddenly run its course.
Billy could have kicked himself. How had he managed to forget the knife?
‘But the cords are magic,’ said Adiblo, gloomily. ‘Cutting them will never work.’
‘I have to try.’ Undeterred, he had began to cut away at the cord binding his father. At first it held its own against the blade, unwilling to be severed, and he wondered if this idea would work. Then without warning the knife bit into the fibre and went cleanly through to the last strand. The cord burst apart, whipping loose so violently that it stung Billy’s arms in passing. Olivia laughed with delight. As Billy cut through the other two cords they responded in a similar frenzy of whiplashing, making everyone duck. The prisoners were free.
But now the cords took on a life of their own. Instead of falling to the floor and lying there, they raced away from the former prisoners and slithered like snakes across the room at a terrific speed - towards Lavitch. He saw them coming, and tried to stand. One of the cords put on even more speed and wrapped itself around his feet, tying them together tightly. He toppl
ed to the ground. Another cord flung itself around his upper body, rolling him over and over, making his head bang on the stone floor.
Slaggard had not long got up and begun to tidy up the trolley. Ligula’s grabbing of the capsule had left things in a mess. He saw what happened to Lavitch, and began to run. But the remaining cord chased him, and lassoed itself around him. Next thing he was an absolute tangle of knots on the floor.
Venska had been absorbed in the treasure, like all the other witches. But when she heard Lavitch’s cries, she turned to see what was happening, and noticed the five former prisoners sneaking towards the huge door.
With her wand at the ready, she approached them, step by step, her attention focused in particular on Billy. ‘Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t got all your blood yet.’
Billy caught sight of Olivia holding her hand tight against her stomach, where presumably she’d hidden the second vial under her t-shirt.
‘Oh, pifflewash!’ roared Mr Mumberson. ‘You don’t even need it. You’ve already got your treasure!’
Venska was startled by his vehemence. She collected herself, and said with her usual snarl,
‘So it seems, but...’
‘There’s something I would like to sort out,’ he interrupted, straightening his shoulders, seemingly oblivious of Venska’s wand.
Venska sneered at him. ‘Who do you think you are?’ A few of the other witches glanced over their shoulders, listening with one ear, but staying intent on their treasure.
‘You took my diamonds off me today because - you said - they belonged to your sister. You claimed I’d stolen them. Stolen them? I’ll have you know your sister never paid me a penny all the time I worked in the mine. She never paid my wife either, nor any of the other workers. She owes us twenty years’ wages.’
‘Get to the point, you scruffy old man...!’ Venska said, coming closer, her wand at the ready.
‘You now have all this wealth. I think you can afford to return the diamonds to me. We’ll call it quits for all the trouble you’ve put us to today.’
Metabola had turned to see what was happening. She dragged herself away from the treasure, and took a few steps towards Venska. ‘Give him the diamonds, Venska. Who needs anything belonging to that ridiculous sister of ours?’ Venska shook her head violently, clutching the pocket where the box of diamonds lay. ‘Venska!’
‘No!’
Metabola pointed her wand straight at Venska and with great speed spoke five angry words no one understood. Venska shrieked as though her hand had been set on fire. She tore the box out of her pocket and threw it straight at Mumberson’s chest. The box burst open and the diamonds scattered around the floor.
Nursing her hand, Venska screeched a stream of foul words at Metabola, who merely laughed. ‘Go back to the treasure,’ she said, as though she was talking to a naughty child.
Standing her ground, Venska said, as calmly as she could, ‘But what about the blood?’
‘Look behind you. We already have the treasure.’
‘So you say. I prefer to hedge my bets.’
Metabola lost her patience. With another wave of her wand she swept Venska up off her feet and sent her sailing through the air to the treasure. ‘Take your share before your sisters commandeer it all!’ she shouted, as Venska landed with a crunch in front of the pile.
Before Metabola turned back to the treasure herself, she said to Billy, ‘I’d leave now, if I were you. Be thankful you’re still alive.’
Mumberson and the others knelt down and seized the diamonds, making sure they deposited each one into Mr Mumberson’s hands. ‘Come on, Dad,’ said Jerry. ‘We need to get out of here.’
But his father didn’t get up off his knees. He was staring at the witches. They continued to fight with each other, pulling hair, slapping faces, tearing clothes. Even Metabola was back in the thick of things. These weren’t Sisters; they were enemies.
‘Look at what those women are doing,’ said Mumberson.
‘Come on, Dad.’
‘What if these diamonds have magic in them? Will they make me as greedy and vicious as that?’
‘Dad.’ Jerry tried to get him to stand. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I can’t, Jerry. Not yet.’
He stood up and began to walk towards the witches and the pile of treasure, Jerry holding onto his arm but unable to get him to turn round. Billy and Olivia stayed close behind.
Some of the witches noticed. Ligula, with a horrible look on her face, shouted, ‘Changed your mind, old man?’ And another witch said, ‘I’ll take them off your hands.’
‘Haven’t they got enough already?’ whispered Olivia to Billy, but he was more concerned about his grandfather getting closer to the witches. He didn’t trust them an inch.
‘Grandad, what are you doing?’ he whispered.
‘I’m getting rid of the diamonds. I lost twenty years of my life. But these things won’t bring them back.’ His voice had become blurry, as though he was about to cry. ‘But I’ve got you, Billy. And you...Jerry. I’ve got another chance.’
He lifted up the fist in which he held the diamonds, as though he was going to throw them on the pile. Then he lowered his hand, looked at his closed fist, raised it again, and stopped once more, his hand in mid-air.
Billy took his grandfather’s arm and pulled it down. He opened the old man’s fist and stared at the diamonds, entranced by their beauty. Even uncut, they glittered with a brightness he’d never seen. Were they pleading not to be left with the witches? The diamonds would help his penniless Granddad and Grandma get started again. His Dad had threatened to kick them out on the street. Perhaps the diamonds would make things come right...
Just then one of the witches screamed the most vile language imaginable at another. A fight broke out, with one of the sculptures crashing to the floor and breaking.
Billy closed his grandfather’s hand over the diamonds, and said, ‘Go on, Grandad, you can do it.’
Mumberson closed his hand tight, lifted his arm in the air, and tossed the diamonds as far as he could into the treasure pile.
Jerry took his father’s arm. ‘Come on, Dad. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go home.’ They all headed quickly towards the enormous door, but had only taken a few steps when they heard screams more horrific than any previous ones. Each and every one of the witches began shouting, ‘The Treasure! The Treasure!’
The five glanced back, and stopped. The glitter and gleam of the pile was fading, slowly at first, then more and more quickly. The treasure’s brightness had lit up the room; now it was as if someone was dimming the lights. Worse, the piles the witches had gathered for themselves had begun to slide towards the large pile, until the two were indistinguishable.
The witches howled, grabbing at different objects. But the treasure had a mind of its own, and refused to be held by anyone. The pile formed itself into a large mass, jewellery merging into gold and gold into statues. Everything turned a foggy gray colour, became transparent, and then vanished completely.
Panic seized the witches. They ran to and fro feeling for any shape, anything to show them where the treasure had gone. But there was nothing. It was as if there had never been anything in the space.
Then there was a fearful silence.
And suddenly Ligula and Venska screamed as one, ‘The Blood!’ and turned and looked straight at Billy.
‘RUN!’ Jerry shouted.
All five ran as fast as possible towards the door. The witches chased them. Olivia was holding the second capsule of blood tight inside her t-shirt. She tripped as she ran, stayed upright by grabbing at Mr Mumberson, then saw the capsule drop to the ground and shatter. The blood splattered across the floor in an arc behind them. And had an unexpected effect.
The first witches to reach it stumbled as though they’d tripped on a hidden wire, and fell in a heap. Metabola went down heavily and stayed there. ‘Madeleine,’ she moaned, to Billy’s consternatio
n. And then she screeched, ‘Madeleine!’
But there wasn’t enough blood to stop the others from giving chase.
Billy made an instant decision. Still running, he pulled out his pocket knife, and flicked it open. Clenching his teeth, he cut a gash in the palm of his left hand. Blood rushed out of the wound. Jerry shouted out in horror, and all of them came to a halt around Billy.
With his other hand Billy smeared the blood on the ground between himself and the witches. Jerry tried to pull him away. Billy shook him off, and used more of his blood to draw a tight circle around his father, grandfather, Olivia and Adiblo.
It was as if he’d created not only a protective circle around them, but a glass cage. Apart from Metabola, the witches were now all about them, but couldn’t touch them. They scratched and hammered at what appeared to be thin air, and made no effect. They brought their wands out but their wands split right up the middle and flew off in splinters.
