Macy Vickers and the Book of Spells

by Paul R. Melia

  Aunt Doris walked up to the door and pointed at it. “The only reason I’ve been so insistent on no one entering inside is because it isn’t safe.” She turned to face Jack. “Please remember that I’m not out to spoil your fun, it is a dangerous place. The last thing I want to have to do is to phone your parents up to tell them that you’ve had an accident.” Her eyes drifted along all three children. “What would they think of me, and how I had looked after you?”

  Jack was happy he hadn’t received a ticking off from Aunt Doris and decided to push his luck a bit too far. “Would it be okay if you opened the door and came in with us?” His eyebrows rose in anticipation.

  Macy threw her arms in the air and fired a pointed stare in Jack’s direction. “I think you should zip your mouth.”

  Aunt Doris craned her neck and gave Macy a cross look. “There’s no need for that, dear. I’ll pretend I never heard young Jack.” She reminded them that food was going to be served soon in the dining room and drifted back towards Chandler House.

  Macy acknowledged her aunt and turned to Jack. “It wouldn’t have made any difference if my aunt had opened the door first… It still would’ve been dangerous.”

  “Calm down!” cried Jack argumentatively. “I only wanted to take a quick look, that’s all.”

  Macy was unimpressed. “It’s never going to happen.” On her heels she spun round and followed the ever-decreasing figure of Aunt Doris.

  “Wait up, grumpy chops,” called Jack after her. But Macy kept on walking.

  “You’re in a real wind-up mood today,” said Olivia disapprovingly. She poked Jack in the back with a straight finger and motioned with her other hand for him to get moving.

  The dining room was a beautiful area set at the back of the house and oversaw the rear manicured gardens. In the centre of the dining room was a magnificent circular smoked glass table and polished chrome chairs, with enough room, when needed, for fourteen people.

  Aunt Doris had done a fantastic job of decorating the table, with a large white table cloth, matching napkins, four large vases of bright coloured flowers, cutlery, plates, and of course the food everyone had been looking forward to.

  The dining room was decorated with oak-panel walls and matching floor-boards, and pictures adorned all the walls with scenes taken from around the garden and surrounding area, including Chandler House itself. Four large bay windows at the back of the room gave an abundance of natural light and brought the room alive.

  Fixed in the centre of the ceiling was a large crystal chandelier. And at night it lit the dining room up in a shimmering yellow glow. And the ceiling came alive with dozens of teardrop crystals, like a star-studded night sky.

  A row of trees outside swayed in the light breeze and their shadows bounced like dancers off the walls, and a pair of large glass-panel wood doors led to the lounge. And on the opposite side another pair led to the oval conservatory. It was Macy’s favourite room, with spectacular views and a bright airy feel about it.

  Uncle Charlie was busy fiddling with his car on the driveway and hadn’t joined everyone else for dinner. He liked tinkering with all things mechanical and would often spend hours messing about with anything he could lay his hands on that had an engine.

  Chicken and chips had been the order of the day, along with a lavish helping of melt in the mouth gravy. Aunt Doris was a wonderful cook — though her culinary skills had not really been put to the test with the simple meal she had prepared.

  The long drive to Chandler House had given all three children a massive appetite, and the pack lunches they had consumed during the car journey had long since been digested.

  After dinner, Aunt Doris spent what was left of the afternoon and late evening sharing some of her inner most guarded cookery secrets with Macy and Olivia. Uncle Charlie had given up working on his car and took the opportunity to try another of his passions, a game of pool.

  The games room at Chandler House had a full-size pool table, snooker table, dart board and various retro style arcade machines.

  Aunt Doris never had the same enthusiasm as her husband for pool or snooker, so Uncle Charlie took every opportunity he could, when visitors arrived, to challenge them to a game. Jack was a dab hand at pool, but snooker was a different story. It looked too complicated and the size of the table put him off too, it was huge.

  Jack would often attend the local pool club, less than a mile away from his home, with his dad. So, he eagerly accepted Uncle Charlie’s challenge.

  Late into the evening they played their hearts out until tiredness kicked in and the mammoth pool session was finally called to an end. Ten games had been closely contested and, in the end, Jack stood victorious, having won six of them, much to Uncle Charlie’s amusement.

  The fact he had been beaten by a twelve-year-old didn’t bother him in the slightest. He just liked playing pool, win, or lose.

  Even though Chandler House had eleven bedrooms, Macy and Olivia had taken the decision to share the same one. Though they did have separate double beds.

  Jack had a room and bed of his own next door. He hadn’t been entirely happy with the set-up, as the night had never been a favourite time of his. But he didn’t want to look a sissy in front of the others.

  The antique Grandfather clock at the top of the stairs struck the last chime of a group of ten. Both girls had changed and readied themselves for bed as the sound of the last chime faded out.

  “I didn’t realise it was so late.” Olivia rolled into bed, lay her head on a soft pillow and covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.

  “Yeah, it was a bit of rush today, so I can’t wait for tomorrow to come.” Macy’s voice had a tone of excitement and tiredness in equal measure. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  Olivia nestled under the covers to find a more comfortable position. “Yep, but a bit strange without our parents here.”

  Macy leant over, turned off the lamp on the bedside table … pulled the bed sheets up to her chin and closed her eyes. “Night,” she whispered.

  “Good night,” Olivia held another yawn at bay and slurred her words. “I hope Jack sleeps okay next door. I know I’d find it hard trying to sleep on my own in a strange house.”

  “He’ll be fine. I have to do it whenever I stay here,” insisted Macy.

  “It’s not the same though. Jack has never stayed here before, and you have.”

  “So, what? He’s only next door, and my aunt and uncle are just down the hallway,” said Macy sharply.

  Olivia dropped what seemed to be turning into an argument, drew her knees up to her stomach, tucked her arms tightly into her and closed her eyes.

  Two hours had flown by — it was now the dead of night and the impeccable timekeeping of the Grandfather clock rang out a perfect set of twelve chimes.

  Macy had struggled to keep her sleep pattern and tossed and turned in an uncomfortable limbo of semi-consciousness. Finally, a movement too many woke her from her slumber. The bedroom curtains were still open, and the full moon shone through. The moonlight entering through the window bounced off the walls and gave the room a creepy glow.

  Macy rolled onto her back. “Olivia, are you awake? I can’t sleep.”

  Olivia was quiet, and Macy’s attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. A strange noise, and it sounded as though it had come from under her bed. Uncertain if she was dreaming Macy pinched the back of her hand. Nothing changed, apart from a stinging sensation of her own making — she was awake for sure.

  The noise continued unabated. It sounded like a heavy bag being dragged across the floor. Unable to control her fears Macy slipped out of her covers and scurried across to Olivia’s bed.

  Olivia was sound asleep, and Macy grabbed her arm and pulled it for all she was worth. Unsure what had just happened Olivia uncoiled her body and sat-up with a vague expression etched on her face.

  Uncoordinated and dishevelled she struggled to focus her eyes, and it took a couple of fist rubs for her vision to clear. “Are you kidding
me?”

  “Nice one, you’re awake,” said Macy with an anxious flutter in her voice. The fact she had woken Olivia at such a late hour seemed of no concern to her.

  “What are you playing at?” Olivia snarled. “I was right in the middle of a cracking dream about riding the winning pony in the junior division at the horse of the year show — and the next thing you’re tearing my arm out of its socket.”

  Macy placed a hand over Olivia’s mouth and a finger over her own. “Keep your gob shut.”

  Olivia pushed Macy’s hand away. “What are you on about? If I woke you in the middle of the night, especially in the best part of a dream, you’d want to know what was going on, wouldn’t you?”

  Macy rolled her eyes, placed her hands on her hips, and sighed. “Get serious. You couldn’t tell one end of a pony from the other... Let alone ride one.”

  Olivia shrugged. “That’s beside the point. It was still a good dream.”

  Macy pointed over to the other side of room. “Follow me.” She took Olivia by the hand and pulled her across the floor and climbed onto the other bed. “There’s something underneath.”

  Silence ensued, and they pinned their ears to the bed sheets, listening for something out of the ordinary. And before long it came again, with increasing vigour. Frightened and unsure what to do next Olivia pulled her head up. “You’d better call your uncle,” her bottom lip quivered nervously.

  “I would if I could, but I’m so frightened … I don’t think I could shout loud enough.” She tried to move but couldn’t. “I’m rooted to the bed. My arms and legs don’t seem to want to work. I’m not calling out if I can’t move. What if we need to make a run for it?”

  Olivia’s lips went from a quiver to a full-on tremble, but she somehow managed to dig deep and summon up a pocket of courage. In one flowing movement she leant across the bed, grabbed a handful of sheets and pulled them as hard as she could.

  Something rolled out from underneath the bed and came to a halt in the centre of the room. Olivia’s fingers sprang open and she let go of the bed sheets.

  “What is it?” she shrieked.

  Macy stared hard at the object as it began to move and unravel of its own accord. “Looks like a small person to me.”

  Olivia blew out her cheeks. “Behave yourself.”

  Macy squinted and stared even harder. “I’m being serious. I think one of my old dolls has come alive.”

  — CHAPTER FOUR —

  The Storyteller

  Both girls looked on transfixed as whatever it was, it began to move in their direction. And to be fair to Macy, she had been partly right, it did look like a doll. But a doll it most certainly wasn’t. Though it was a figure of some description.

  It was dressed almost entirely in black suede, apart from a pair of knee high boots made from leather. It’s trousers and top had a gloss shine to them as did its three-quarter length coat with a collar that rose halfway up the back of its neck and stopped below a pair of large pointed ears.

  “Is this some sort of joke?” Olivia looked less than impressed. She climbed off the bed, trudged across the floor and stood next to it. The figure was knee high to her and she placed a hand above, but not on its head. Slowly she moved her hand round in a circular motion. “Well, however you did it … you’ve fooled me... I can’t find any strings... Is it remote control?”

  “Done what?” gasped Macy. “It’s nothing to do with me, honest.”

  Then it spoke. “Why are you afraid? You’re much bigger than me.” It might have been small, but its voice was clear enough.

  Olivia pulled her hand away, bolted across the floor, jumped back on the bed and tugged Macy with her to the far side.

  Macy’s eyes were out on storks. “I don’t believe it. It’s a talking gnome.”

  Time stood still as they were all drawn into a standoff, which felt like several minutes, but was no more than a slow count of five. Olivia cracked first as her inquisitive nature kicked in. She tentatively climbed off the bed, moved towards it, bent down and put out a hand … touching it gently on the shoulder. “What—? I mean … who are you?”

  In a clear voice, it spoke again. “My name is Romulus. Heir to the Land of Tormencer.”

  Macy’s arms and legs decided to work again, and she scurried across the floor to join Olivia. “That’s a mouthful and a half.”

  Romulus rubbed his nose. “This is a strange land to the one I have come from.”

  Olivia stared at him. She seemed spellbound. “Are you an Elf?”

  Macy rolled her eyes. “Just come out with it why don’t you.”

  “I was only asking,” snapped Olivia.

  “Yes, I am — and proud of it,” Romulus replied assertively. “My father, Zorax and mother, Helena, were taken prisoner a month ago by a tyrant called Kraken. He is a sworn enemy of my family and rules over an area of Tormencer, called the Nebier Forest.”

  Macy flicked the bedside lamp on. The intervention of the light made a dramatic difference to what the two girls could see, and she moved back to Romulus’s side and crouched beside him.

  Romulus was indeed an Elf, considering the books read and pictures seen by the two girls of such things as Pixies, Nymphs, Goblins, and as before them, Elves.

  He had a full mop of wavy, chestnut brown hair that extended from the top of his head to his shoulders and rested on the collar of his suede coat. A dusting of wispy brown beard hair covered his chin and a pair of large sea blue eyes sat imposingly above his protruding cheeks and fat snout like nose. His skin was light grey and looked as though it could do with an iron to smooth out the mass of wrinkles covering his face, hands, and no doubt his entire body.

  Macy was eager to discover more about him. “So, why are you here? It’s not like we are anything special.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Olivia firmly.

  Romulus ran a hand over his thin beard and began to tell a story the like of which Macy and Olivia thought only happened in fairy-tales.

  “My father’s castle and surrounding lands have been in the family and ruled by his ancestors since the beginning of time. He is a fair minded and much-loved ruler who looked after his people with kindness and made sure they never wanted for anything.” A trail of tears carved a route between the creases on his face, ran down either side of his snout and fell to the floor.

  “Take your time,” Olivia said in a low comforting tone.

  Romulus continued. “The Nebier Forest is a place where most fear to go; only dreadful things come from entering there. Kraken rules over it with an iron fist.”

  “What has he got against you?” asked Macy.

  Romulus cleared his throat with a cough. “Many years ago soldiers from my father’s army killed Kraken’s father, Velteri. It had been over the discovery of an ancient scroll found buried in a cave near to the northern quarter of the Nebier Forest.” Romulus’s voice changed from calm to anger and he used the back of his hand to wipe away more tears. “The scroll told of an ancient battle which had taken place between my ancestors and that of Kraken’s. It had been a brutal and bloody battle in which Kraken’s family had been triumphant … and the victory gave them the right to rule over the Land of Tormencer.”

  “This is mad,” whispered Olivia in Macy’s ear. Both girls looked dumbstruck and eager to hear more.

  Romulus’s voice slowed, and a vague expression appeared on his face. “As the ancient scroll showed Kraken’s family as the rightful heirs to the seat of Tormencer it was though inevitable that my father would relinquish his rule.”

  Macy began to get fidgety and couldn’t stay silent any longer. In some discomfort at kneeling in the same position she shuffled her feet out in front and sat upright on the floor.

  “So, is that why you’re here?” she asked. “Your father had to give up his rule, and you felt your life was in danger?”

  Romulus nodded and looked as if he was about to cry once more.

  “The ancient scroll was found to be a fake and wri
tten by one of Kraken’s most trusted servants, Gordrick. He had given the game away during a drunken argument with some soldiers loyal to my father. You see, there had never been a battle; it had all been a lie to try and take over my father’s position.”

  Olivia jumped to her feet. “That’s bang out of order.”

  Romulus agreed. “On finding his plan had been exposed Kraken and his father massed their army and attacked my father’s castle, and in the ensuing battle Velteri was killed.”

  Macy shifted her position yet again and rested on her knees. “So, Kraken blamed his father’s death on your family?”

  Olivia looked over the top of Romulus’s head and directly into Macy’s eyes. “Of course he blamed them for his father’s death. It was Romulus’s family and soldiers who killed him.”

  “Okay, brains. Keep your hair on.” Macy looked far from impressed at Olivia’s outburst.

  Romulus moved his attention away from the two feuding girls … and firmly in the direction of the window. “It’s my sister, Hangaku,” he cried excitedly.

  He darted over to the window and with all the force he could muster launch himself into the air and caught hold of the window sill.

  Macy stood and gawked at him. “Did he say something about a sister?”

  Olivia frowned. “I think so.”

  “Can you give me a hand?” Romulus’s grip began to loosen, and he dangled precariously on the far edge of the window sill.

  Macy looked at Romulus hanging on for dear life and bolted over. “This is all getting a bit weird.” With a helping hand she heaved him gently up onto the window sill. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up in a minute.”

  Olivia joined them. “It’s not going to happen. This isn’t a dream. It’s for real.”

  Romulus ferreted about with the latch on the window and used his shoulder for leverage. “This is the way I came in!” his voice filled with emotion and urgency. “I scaled the outside wall and with the window half open, I climbed inside. But Hangaku didn’t have enough time to follow me, as you had entered the bedroom. So, I shut the window and hid under the bed and waited for you to fall asleep. I was then going to let her in, but you discovered me before I could do so.”