by Sally Rippin
Malorie takes a deep breath and turns towards her school friend’s mother. ‘My mother sent me in there. She was too afraid to go in herself! She gave me her wand and told me to go into the tunnel and do a spell to trap Buster, because she said he is dangerous. But it’s Just. Not. True,’ she says, her face crumpling.
Mrs Leafly puts her arm around Malorie.
‘Buster should have left me in there, but instead he saved me!’ Malorie says. ‘He carried me out on his own back. Buster has never hurt anyone.’ Malorie begins to sob. ‘Polly is right. My mother made it all up. All of it. Even the stuff in the newspapers and what happened in the gallery. I should never have listened to her.’
The witches’ eyes widen and their mouths drop open in shock.
‘She’s lying!’ Mrs Halloway screeches. ‘The nasty little grommet is lying. It’s that horrible Polly who’s put her up to this, I’ll bet.’ She grabs Malorie’s arm and tries to pull her away.
‘No!’ says Malorie firmly. ‘I’m not coming with you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ says Mrs Halloway, pulling even harder. ‘You’re my daughter. You’ll do as I tell you.’
‘Deidre Halloway!’ comes a voice from among the trees. ‘That’s enough!’
Polly looks up in shock to see Miss Spinnaker step out of the dark forest, broomstick in hand. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is wild and curly from the ride. She glares at the huddle of witches around the mouth of the mine, shuffling uncomfortably among themselves, embarrassed to be caught up in such a terrible situation.
Then, to Polly’s utter surprise, another witch walks out of the trees to stand beside Miss Spinnaker. Polly gasps when she recognises who it is. She has never met this witch before, only seen her portrait in the hallway at school, but she knows instantly who Miss Spinnaker has brought with her.
Not for the first time, Polly is filled with love and admiration for her clever teacher, who always knows what to do and just the right way to do it. For, standing beside Miss Spinnaker, a look of calm fury on her face, is Blackmoon Coven’s very own Mayor Redwolf.
‘Deidre Halloway,’ the Mayor says in her deep, rumbling voice. She is tall, broad-shouldered and dark-skinned, with raven-black hair twisted down her back in a long, snake-like plait. She stares at each and every one of them with her glittering, black-rimmed eyes, and Polly sees the mothers from her school all shrink under her glare. When she walks towards them, her black velvet cape swishes around her silver-buckled boots.
‘I am horrified to think that such an upstanding member of our community would behave in such an appalling way,’ she continues, her voice even lower and angrier than before. ‘Miss Spinnaker had warned me that this kind of divisive behaviour was going on in Blackmoon Coven, but I must say I would never have believed it had I not just witnessed everything that has happened here this evening. This is not the kind of behaviour we tolerate here in our little town, Mrs Halloway. I’m afraid I have no choice but to ask you to step down as head of the Committee.’
Deidre Halloway’s mouth drops open in horror. ‘You can do no such thing!’ she shrieks. ‘My great-great-grandfather founded this town. This town wouldn’t even exist without my family!’ Her face burns red with rage. ‘And anyway, I was voted in. The Committee has nothing to do with you, Mayor Redwolf. Only the Committee members can vote me out again.’ She glowers at all the other witches, but they all look away or down at the ground.
Mrs Leafly eventually clears her throat to speak. ‘I’m afraid I have to agree with the Mayor,’ she says, sounding nervous at first, but then becoming more confident as she notices the other Committee witches agreeing with her. ‘We can’t have someone who would risk her own daughter’s life as head of our Committee. What would we say to our children? Therefore, I, Daisy Leafly, treasurer of the Committee, vote for you to step down.’
‘Me too,’ murmurs another witch, angrily.
‘Me too,’ says another, then another.
Mrs Halloway stares disbelievingly at them, her face growing more and more crimson and her eyes dark with hatred.
she screeches. ‘You will all be very sorry. This war between witches and monsters is not over yet. You have no idea what danger I have seen brewing in the woods out there. And I assure you, every single one of you here will regret you ever listened to these monster-lovers over me.’
Then, seeing that no one from the Committee will even look her in the eye, she whips her cape tightly around her, snatches her broomstick from where it is lying and disappears into the swirling night.
‘Good riddance!’ snaps one witch.
‘What a terrible thing to have done,’ adds another.
‘To her own daughter!’ spits a third.
They become louder and braver now that Mrs Halloway is no longer around to hear them, and Polly can’t help hoping that now she is gone, Blackmoon Coven will return once again to its peaceful ways. Even if she knows herself that what Mrs Halloway says about the monster army is true.
The Mayor puts up a hand to silence the angry witches. Then she turns back to the three children huddled by the mouth of the mine, all of them desperately in need of a hot meal and a warm bath.
‘Buster, I would like to be the first to congratulate you on being such a strong and brave monster, and thank you for saving these two young witches from this dangerous mine,’ the Mayor declares.
She holds out her hand to shake his paw. ‘I am not going to ask how or why you are here in the first place, as you know the Hollow Valley Mines was declared out of bounds long ago. I will leave that matter for your parents to deal with as they see fit. But I will say that this evening you have proven to be a true hero.’ She smiles.
‘And our town definitely needs more of those. You can be sure that you will receive a hero’s ceremony when I can arrange it and, in recognition of your integrity and courage, I would like to award you with the Mayor’s medal of honour.’
Polly looks up at her teacher. Miss Spinnaker is smiling at them warmly as if she is the only one there who is not surprised by this news. Polly smiles back at her. She is sure her teacher had something to do with this unexpected turn of events.
There is a gentle stirring as all the witches gathered by the mine begin to murmur their approval. They nod their heads and step up to Buster one by one to shake his paw.
‘A hero! A hero!’
they chant loudly, hoping that their enthusiasm might make up for their horrible doubts about Buster only moments before.
‘But it’s not just me …’ Buster stammers, opening his eyes wide at Polly, wondering if he is allowed to tell of her bravery in the mines.
But Polly lightly brushes a finger over her lips to remind him of their secret and gestures towards her teacher. She has already decided that for now she will tell Miss Spinnaker it was Mrs Halloway who chased them into the mines and not her father’s ghost who called her there. And she definitely can’t tell Miss Spinnaker about the spell her father asked her to do. Disobeying her teacher and doing spells out of school grounds could only result in one thing. And Polly knows she is already going to be in enough trouble with her mother without being expelled from Miss Madden’s, too!
She takes Buster’s paw and whispers in his ear. ‘Anyway, it’s true. You are a hero! Blackmoon Coven’s first monster hero! Can you imagine? But even more than that, you’re my very best friend. I could have never done any of this without you.’
Polly watches Buster blush and fill with joy. In no time at all he has grown so big and full of happiness Polly has to hold onto his paw tightly in case he floats away.
‘Well, I think these three best be getting back to their families before their parents are even more worried about them,’ Miss Spinnaker says, giving Polly a look that lets her know she has some serious explaining to do.
‘But where will I go?’ Malorie whimpers, and suddenly, after being so fierce and brave, she bursts into tears again from the terrible shock of it all.
‘You’ll come back with
me, darling,’ Mrs Leafly says, hurrying over and putting her arm around the small, sobbing witch. ‘And you can stay as long as you need to. Willow will be thrilled to have the company.’
‘And I will take you two back home,’ Miss Spinnaker says. ‘Do you still have my broomstick, Polly? This rental will be due back any moment now.’ And, sure enough, as they watch, the snazzy metal broomstick in Miss Spinnaker’s hand suddenly beeps three times, then shoots up into the air to make its own way back to Blackmoon Coven’s Broomstick Rental Parlour.
Polly nods and points over towards the trees, where she has hidden Miss Spinnaker’s trusty old wooden one.
‘Oh,’ says Buster, his happiness suddenly deflating from him like air from a balloon. ‘I have to get on a broomstick again, don’t I?’
Mayor Redwolf looks towards Miss Spinnaker, who smiles and nods. Then the mayor turns to Buster. ‘Well, I thought this time you might like a lift back with me?’
She points down the hill to where her shiny gold Buckmeister is parked. Buster’s mouth drops open at the sight of its sleek gold fins and glossy black wheels.
The Mayor chuckles. ‘I’m not a big fan of broomsticks either,’ she tells Buster. ‘Four wheels on the ground has always been my transport of choice.’
Buster whoops
with excitement.
‘What about you, Polly?’ Miss Spinnaker says. ‘Do you want to ride in the Mayor’s fancy new car, too?’
Polly shrugs. ‘Nah. I’ll come with you, if that’s OK?’ she says.
Miss Spinnaker smiles. ‘Of course. And I may even let you steer if you’re good,’ she says, winking.
Soon, the witches are on their broomsticks and Buster is in the passenger seat of the Mayor’s car, his grinning face out the window, his fur whistling in the breeze.
The sun has set and the sky is a dark velvety blue. One by one, the lights of Blackmoon Coven begin to twinkle, as witches, warlocks and monsters begin to gather their children for dinner and bed.
Only one Black Witch still hovers around the mine, and when it has grown dark and quiet again, she creeps out from where she has been hiding in the trees.
Deidre Halloway looks all around her to check she is alone, then pulls out a small pouch of stones from her pocket. Their gentle glow lights up the night. Holding them out in front of her, she walks slowly towards the entrance of the mine.
Deep down below the crumbling red earth, a creature gently rumbles.
Monster-sized thanks to all my early readers: Cassandra Austin, Davina Bell, Kristen from Squishy Minnie and especially the wonderful L-J and Lija from Three, Four Knock on the Door, who gave me that final boost of confidence to send this next book out into the world.
Without the invaluable support of Marisa, Penny and Luna this story would still be floating around in my head somewhere and I am so grateful to everyone at Hardie Grant Egmont for all their hard work, as well as our amazing designer, Stephanie Spartels, who makes magic happen every time.
I also want to thank all the wonderful children’s booksellers I meet while travelling around this country. We would be nowhere without you. I wish I had the space to name you all but will start by giving a special shout out to Leesa at the Little Bookroom, who genuinely makes the world a better place.
Lastly, my biggest thanks go to all my readers. Yes, YOU, right now, reading this book. YOU are who are I write for and who inspire me to sit at my desk each day wrestling with stories that won’t behave themselves and daring me to venture into those dark places. This book, more than any other I have written, is for you.
Sally Rippin is the sort of grown-up who remembers exactly what it was like to be a kid. That’s one of the reasons her books are so beloved around the world. She has written more than sixty books for children, including the best-selling Billie B Brown and Hey Jack! series. Sally’s books have sold over four million copies internationally, which is enough to make any monster puff up with happiness.
For Patrick (again), because
every time I stand at the entrance
of that dark cave, you are the
one beside me, holding my hand.
The Mystery of the Magic Stones
published in 2018 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
www.hardiegrantegmont.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.
Text & illustration copyright © 2018 Sally Rippin
Series design copyright © 2018 Hardie Grant Egmont
eISBN 9781743585511
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