Goodly and Grave in a Case of Bad Magic

by Justine Windsor

  The Worthingtons’ cottage lay a little way outside Grave Village, up a narrow lane. The cottage was small but well cared for. Lord Grave rapped the shiny brass knocker. A moment later, Mrs Worthington opened it.

  “Your Lordship!” she said, looking most surprised and also not very pleased.

  “I’m very sorry to intrude, but I wondered if we could have a quick word with Violet.”

  Mrs Worthington frowned. “Oh dear. Can’t it wait? The poor little thing’s worn out. She can hardly keep her eyes open.”

  “Just a few minutes?”

  Mrs Worthington sighed. “If you insist.”

  “Most kind.” Lord Grave took off his top hat and stepped through the doorway. Lucy followed him inside.

  The cottage had just one large room downstairs. The floorboards were bare, but swept clean. Not a speck of dust clung to the rough wooden beams that crossed the ceiling. Mrs Worthington led the way up the rickety staircase, which creaked rather alarmingly.

  The stairs opened out directly on to a bedroom that was as small as Lucy’s own but seemed bigger as there was only the one bed, which Violet was lying in. She and Caruthers were snugly tucked up under a pink-and-white patchwork quilt.

  Mrs Worthington bent over her daughter and spoke gently to her. “Violet. Lord Grave’s here. He wants to speak to you. Is that all right?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Violet said. Her voice was slow and sleepy.

  Mrs Worthington gestured for Lord Grave and Lucy to go over to Violet’s bed.

  “Hello, Lucy. Thank you for saving me,” Violet said. She looked up at her two visitors. Her eyes were dull and her face looked pinched and grey.

  “Violet, I’d just like you to tell me what you remember of the attack. The boy cut you with his knife, is that right?” Lord Grave said kindly.

  Violet nodded.

  “And then what happened?”

  Violet’s eyes began to close. “A penny. Then a peashooter,” she whispered.

  “I think she’s delirious,” Lord Grave muttered.

  Violet’s eyes opened a little. “The boy. He cut me. He had a penny. Smeared it with my blood. Put it in his handkerchief. Then Lucy hit him on the back of the neck with her peashooter. Can I go to sleep now?”

  Lord Grave opened his mouth to ask another question, but Mrs Worthington stepped between him and the bed. “I think that’s enough for today, sir,” she said firmly, and began ushering Lucy and Lord Grave towards the stairs. Lucy glanced over her shoulder and saw that Violet was already fast asleep.

  When Lord Grave and Lucy had been politely but speedily shown out of the Worthingtons’ cottage, Lord Grave lingered on the doorstep for a few moments.

  “I wish I could have gleaned a little more information from young Violet. I’m beginning to think your attacker really might have been magical.”

  Lucy frowned. “If he was, why didn’t he use magic to fight back when I hit him with the attack sparks?”

  Lord Grave nodded. “That’s a good point. But perhaps he’d already got what he wanted? Which in this case was blood. Perhaps he’d hoped for your blood, but decided to make do with Violet’s.”

  “But why would he do such a thing?” Lucy asked, feeling slightly queasy.

  Lord Grave put his top hat back on and gazed grimly at Lucy. “There are many magical uses for blood, Lucy, and all of them are very nasty indeed.”

  Back at Grave Hall, Lucy expected that she and Lord Grave would spend some time together discussing what Violet had revealed. But Lord Grave had other ideas.

  “It’s a stroke of luck that I invited MAAM to come a couple of days before the actual ball so that we could have a catch-up before the other guests arrive. Lord Percy sent me a chit this morning to let me know they’d all be here at five.”

  Lucy, who had become more and more acquainted with the magical world over the last few weeks, knew that chits were a special invention of Lord Percy’s; flying notes that MAAM used to send messages between themselves, and to communicate with other magicians.

  “So,” Lord Grave continued, consulting his pocket watch, “there’s about half an hour before they arrive. We’ll be able to confer with them about all this later. In the meantime, would you mind helping Mrs Crawley? I believe she may be feeling somewhat overwhelmed with the preparations for the ball.”

  Lucy agreed, but she couldn’t help feeling a little put out. Sometimes she resented the fact that Lord Grave wanted her to be part of MAAM, but also expected her to be a servant. Nevertheless, she set off to the kitchen.

  Mrs Crawley was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by a stack of potatoes. She was sipping at a large tankard of her favourite home-brew. The ale was flavoured with Extra Violent Mustard Mix and Mrs Crawley used it as a pick-me-up when she was feeling particularly fatigued.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” she said when she saw Lucy. “I really do need a hand! All these potatoes need peeling, could you make a start on them? Becky keeps sneaking off somewhere. She’s acting very oddly. Lord Percy and the rest of MAAM are arriving soon. Oh, and Diamond O’Brien and the rest of the circus folk are coming tomorrow. It’s all going to be a bit frantic now until the big day!”

  “Have you ever seen the circus?” Lucy asked, picking up a potato and starting to peel it. Lord Grave had invited O’Brien’s Midnight Circus to provide some entertainment at the ball. Lucy had seen some of the acts before, and had been extremely impressed.

  “No, his Lordship hasn’t always approved of that sort of thing,” Mrs Crawley said, taking a gulp of her ale.

  This was true. Relations between MAAM and O’Brien’s Midnight Circus had been somewhat glacial due to the fact that the circus folk operated on what Lord Grave called “the fringes of ethical magic”. However, following the death of two magicians at the hands of Jerome Wormwood, Lord Grave and Diamond O’Brien had decided that the magical community needed to come together.

  “Oh, you’ll love it! There’s magical knife-throwing, a woman who can fold herself up and trapeze artists. Without trapezes!”

  “That sounds very exciting, to be sure!” Mrs Crawley wiped beery foam from her moustache. The refreshment had rallied her and she recovered her usual good spirits. “Now then. Lord Grave wants to give MAAM a nice dinner tonight. I’d like you and Becky to wait at table, Lucy. Don’t pull that face. If the wind changes you’ll be stuck like that. You and Becky need to work together sometimes.”

  Lucy sighed inwardly, but decided not to argue. She carried on peeling potatoes. “How are MAAM getting here?” she asked after a while.

  “They’re all coming in Lady Sibyl’s coach.” Mrs Crawley glanced at the kitchen clock. “They should be here any minute.”

  “Can I go and watch them land?”

  Mrs Crawley smiled. “Of course. Off you go, but don’t be too long.”

  “Thank you!” Lucy jumped out of her seat, raced out of the back door and through the kitchen garden. Watching Lady Sibyl’s flying coach arrive was always a thrill. Lucy had ridden in it herself once and dearly hoped she’d do so again one day.

  When she reached the front of the house, she stood on the gravel driveway and gazed upwards. She soon spotted an unusual black smudge in the sky. There was a rumbling noise like faint thunder as the smudge grew bigger and bigger, and after a few seconds Lucy could clearly see Lady Sibyl’s shiny black carriage, which was pulled by two horses whose gossamer-thin wings shimmered with rainbow colours where the autumn sunlight touched them.

  Lucy skittered out of the coach’s flight path and watched from a safe distance as it began to lose height, landing with a gentle crunch on the Grave drive. The coach driver, a slender woman dressed from head to toe in black velvet, deftly pulled the horses to a halt.

  Behind Lucy, the grand front door of Grave Hall opened, and Lord Grave and Bathsheba came down the steps. Bertie and Vonk followed. Lucy eagerly ran up to the coach, preparing to greet her fellow MAAM members.

  The stout footman travelling alongside the driver jum
ped down and hurried over to pull out the carriage steps so the passengers could disembark. Then he unfastened the door and held it open as Lady Sibyl started climbing out.

  “Hello!” Lucy called excitedly. But her greeting wasn’t returned.

  Lady Sibyl was frowning distractedly. Usually, she was very elegant and sure-footed, but not today, as she stumbled on the last of the coach steps and had to be steadied by her footman. The cause of her upset soon became clear when Beguildy Beguildy and his sister Prudence followed her, helping Lord Percy out of the coach. Lucy gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Poor Lord Percy, who was a sorrowful-looking man at the best of times, was in a terrible state and looked more miserable than ever. His right arm was in a sling, his left eye was swollen and turning black and he had a very nasty cut on his cheek, which was clotted with dried blood.

  “What on earth happened to you, old chap?” Lord Grave boomed, striding over to Lord Percy, who was now wearily leaning against Beguildy’s shoulder.

  “We stopped off in Grave Village on the way here. I had a fancy for one of Busby’s custard slices. You know how fond I am of them. I was attacked by two blasted urchins. A girl and a boy. Unbelievable,” Lord Percy replied.

  “Did they steal anything?” Lord Grave asked.

  “No. Managed to fight the little guttersnipes off. Left me with a few cuts and bruises, that’s all,”

  “A few cuts and bruises! Dear Percy was very lucky, George. The boy had a knife.” Lady Sibyl’s words gave Lucy a little jolt, and she exchanged glances with Lord Grave, who was surely thinking the same thing as her – was this the same boy who’d attacked her and Violet?

  “The vicious little beast wielded it without hesitation, and he would have used it on me if Percy hadn’t bravely shielded me from harm,” Lady Sibyl continued, dabbing at her eyes with a very fancy lace handkerchief. “But you know the most disturbing thing of all, George? Those beastly children weren’t just ordinary nasty little reprobates. They were magical.”

  Lord Grave raised his bushy eyebrows. “Extraordinary. Come on, Percy, let’s get you inside and comfortable, then you can tell all. Vonk, would you organise tea in the MAAM meeting room please? Lucy, perhaps you could help Vonk and then join us.”

  Lord Grave and Beguildy each grabbed one of Lord Percy’s elbows and began to guide him up the steps to the front door and into the hallway of the house. Once everyone was inside, Lord Percy, Lady Sibyl and the Beguildys removed their coats and hats. After warming themselves in front of the hallway fire, they headed off to the MAAM meeting room with Lord Grave, leaving Lucy and Vonk to lug all the outdoor garments to the coat cupboard.

  “Children attacking you and Violet, and now Lord Percy!” Vonk shook his head as he hung up Lady Sibyl’s cloak, which was trimmed with black and scarlet feathers.

  “I’d bet my life one of them is the boy from the alley,” Lucy replied, reaching up to hang Beguildy Beguildy’s navy-blue coat, which had a very fancy brass neck-fastening featuring a ship in full sail.

  “We’ll soon find out. No doubt MAAM will get to the bottom of it. Come along, we’d best go and fetch the tea things.”

  When Lucy and Vonk reached the kitchen, Vonk looked cautiously around before asking where Becky was.

  Mrs Crawley gave a little snort of amusement. “Cleaning out the lavatories and the chamber pots. I know I shouldn’t laugh. She’s absolutely furious, but with Violet laid up … Whatever’s the matter, Vonk?”

  “There’s been another incident, Mrs C.” Vonk pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Lucy and Mrs Crawley did likewise. Then Vonk explained what had happened to Lord Percy and Lady Sibyl in Grave Village.

  “But that’s terrible,” Mrs Crawley said when Vonk had finished speaking. “Poor Lord Percy. Could there be some connection to the attack on Violet and Lucy? What does his Lordship think?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to ask him, but I think there is,” Lucy told her. “He’s having a MAAM meeting now. He asked for some tea to be sent up. We’d better put plenty of sugar in Lord Percy’s.”

  “Oh, but of course!” Mrs Crawley immediately began buzzing around the kitchen, putting the kettle to boil on the range and setting out the china on a tray, as well as a couple of plates of biscuits. While Mrs Crawley was attending to the teapot, Lucy and Vonk swiftly examined the biscuits. They were relieved to find that they were normal almond ones without any experimental flourishes such as cockroach legs.

  When everything was ready, they set off upstairs. Vonk carried the tea tray and Lucy carried the biscuit plates.

  “You can do the honours, Lucy,” Vonk said when the two of them reached the door to the MAAM meeting room.

  “Havana!” Lucy exclaimed. She always enjoyed being the one to utter the password that made the meeting-room door swing open of its own accord. And, although she was now quite familiar with what lay beyond the door, she still felt a buzz of excitement at stepping over the threshold and into such a fascinating room. A large glass display cabinet took up the whole of one wall, and it was filled with strange-looking instruments made of silver, gold and brass. They were all inventions created by Lord Percy and had various uses, including detecting the misuse of magic. At the moment, all of them were silent and still.

  “You should settle yourself down with the others and I’ll serve the tea,” Vonk whispered to Lucy.

  As Vonk busied himself with pouring tea and handing round the biscuits (Lucy smiled to herself as she saw that each member of MAAM examined them suspiciously before eating them), Lucy parked herself next to Bertie and Smell.

  “I call this meeting to order!” Lord Grave announced. “In light of what happened to Lord Percy today, we need to consider who the children behind the attack might be. Sibyl, Percy, what made you conclude your attackers were magical? Did they cast any spells?”

  “Briefly,” Lady Sibyl said. “The boy tried. He very clumsily aimed some attack sparks at me when I went to Percy’s aid.”

  At that very moment, the glass cabinet began to rattle. One of the instruments, a golden star attached to a coiled golden spring, was bouncing up and down.

  “Why is it doing that?” Lucy asked.

  “Because somewhere a child is using magic, or rather using magic when they shouldn’t,” Lord Grave explained. “You see, although child magicians can of course use magic, it’s generally not allowed unless they are in their own home or another magician’s home and are being supervised by an adult. There’s simply too much that could go wrong. This little contraption gives the alert if a child is breaking the rules. Of course they could be clever enough to make their magic undetectable, but they would have to be exceptionally talented.”

  The golden star began jiggling even more wildly.

  “Can it tell you who’s doing the magic? Or where?” Lucy asked.

  Lord Grave shook his head. “It covers a radius of some two hundred miles, but it can’t pin down an exact location or identify the culprit. But I would wager that it has something to do with today’s events. The last time that machine went off on a regular basis was a couple of months ago, when you were being a little wayward with magic, Lucy. That’s what set me off looking for you.”

  Lucy felt her face grow warm. When she’d first met Lord Grave, she’d been using a magical playing card to win poker games, although at the time she had thought it was simply some sort of trick card. Lord Grave had brought her to Grave Hall so that she could learn to use magic properly.

  Her embarrassment increased when Beguildy Beguildy made an exaggerated tutting noise and wagged his forefinger in an admonishing manner. Lucy and Beguildy weren’t exactly the best of friends. However, he had rescued her from a stressful situation during the Jerome Wormwood investigation, so now she was trying to be a little more tolerant of him and vice versa. Admittedly, this could be a challenge at times on both sides.

  “Let’s get back to business,” Lord Grave continued. “Percy, Sibyl, can you describe the children who attacked you?”

&
nbsp; “I didn’t get a good look at them,” Lady Sibyl said. “Percy?”

  Lord Percy grunted and opened his eyes. He’d been nodding off, his head drooping towards the table. “Sorry, what?”

  “The children. Can you describe them?” Lord Grave said.

  “Oh, well. Let me think. The girl wore a cloak. Hood up. Couldn’t see her face. The boy … Tattoo on his neck, under his ear. Looked like a bluebird.” Lord Percy’s head began to droop again.

  “A tattoo?” Lord Grave said. He puffed excitedly on his unlit cigar. “We could have a lead here. Do you all remember the Hard Times Hall fiasco?”

  “Hard Times Hall! Yes, you could be on to something, George,” Lady Sibyl said, nodding her head vigorously. The peacock feathers she wore in her hair bobbed up and down as if in agreement.

  “What’s Hard Times Hall?” Lucy asked.

  “An orphanage for magical children. Wait a moment.” Lord Grave left the table and went over to a large wooden chest. He lifted the lid to reveal a mass of papers inside. Although they looked rather haphazard, they must have been in some sort of order as Lord Grave soon managed to locate what he needed. He pulled out some newspaper pages. They were slightly yellowed and when Lucy looked closely she saw they were from an edition of the Penny Dreadful and dated the year before. Lord Grave always called the Penny a “frightful old rag” but nevertheless he seemed to be one of its most loyal readers and had an extensive collection of back copies. Lord Grave spread the pages in front of Lucy and Bertie.

  “You own an orphanage, Father?” Bertie asked in astonishment.