The Only Thing Worse Than Witches

by Lauren Magaziner

  Rupert gasped. “That’s it!” he said, turning his head to look at the door. The scratches were growing increasingly louder, and he knew that they only had about another minute before the bunnies clawed their way through the wooden door. “Maybe we’re going about this backward!”

  “How?”

  “Instead of trying to think of words that don’t sound like anything else, we need to think of words that do sound like the words we want. Get it?”

  Sandy shook her head no. “Not really.”

  Rupert urgently thumped his foot on the table. “Your spell casting is opposite, so you need to approach it backwardly. So let’s say you wanted to turn me invisible. Instead of saying can’t be seen you say turning green. Then maybe the opposite of your intended spell will happen and I really would turn invisible.”

  Sandy clapped. “Rupert, you’re brilliant! Thank goodness I asked for a smart apprentice!”

  Splintering sounds came from the door, and Rupert saw a tiny rabbit nail break through. Help us! the rabbits cried. Help us!

  “STAY BACK!” Rupert shouted. Then he turned to Sandy. “Test it on me. That way if things go wrong, you won’t have messed up on an entire town.”

  Sandy gulped. “Um . . . see a toy!” she snapped her fingers.

  Rupert felt a tingling sensation all throughout his body. His fur fell off his body, landing at his bald bunny feet like a new carpet. Then his arms and legs expanded, stretching out like taffy until they hung slack at his sides. With a whoosh, clothes materialized over his loose limbs. His eyes rolled back into his head and came back white and brown, rather than like black coals. Hair sprouted out of his head. And with a final POP, his ears shrunk and his nose wiggled back to its normal size.

  Rupert stumbled to a mirror—he was himself again!

  “See a toy?” he said to Sandy.

  “Be a boy! It was all I could think of!”

  The wood on the door splintered again, this time big enough for a bunny to hop through. A black bunny with milky eyes soared through the hole in the door and hopped toward Sandy. Help us! the bunny said. A group of bunnies followed in the black bunny’s wake. Rupert supposed there were fifty of them in total.

  Sandy shivered and backed into a shelf. “Stay away,” she said. “I’ll help you if you stay away.”

  The bunnies hopped closer, and Rupert swung his legs onto the table to avoid them.

  “Hurry!” he said. “I can’t help you if you get turned into a rabbit!”

  Sandy closed her eyes and snapped her fingers. “Attack in two steeples! Attack in two steeples! ATTACK IN TWO STEEPLES! AUGHHHHHHH!” she shouted as the bunnies jumped toward her.

  Sandy whimpered and wailed—but in mid-leap, the fifty bunnies shed their hair, sprouted arms and legs, and lost their ears. Fifty people stood in Sandy’s small lair, packed so tightly that no one could move an elbow.

  Sandy snapped. “Wet snout!”

  The door sprung open, and everyone scrambled for the exit. Except for Rupert.

  He turned to the panting witch with a grin. “Get out,” he said. “Nice touch!”

  Sandy ran over and hugged him. And it was the best hug ever.

  What To Do About the Witches

  “BUT WAIT,” RUPERT SAID, BREAKING AWAY FROM Sandy’s hug. “Where are the witches? Are they still coming to find me?”

  Sandy burst out in giggles. “That’s the best part!” she said. She ran outside, and Rupert followed her. They walked around town for what seemed like forever, but as soon as Sandy led him past the fish-and-chips restaurant, Rupert knew exactly where they were headed—to the witches’ lair. They walked up to the boulder that marked the entrance, and Sandy put her hand on the rock, which grumbled and rolled to the side to reveal the passageway into the heart of the lair. And there, in the entrance to the lair, fourteen bunnies huddled together.

  Sandy cringed at the sight of the bunnies, but she quickly snapped her fingers and conjured a cage that surrounded all the bunnies. Then she held her hands out in a ta-da pose.

  “What’s that for?” Rupert said.

  “The Witches Council!” Sandy laughed. “And four witchlings.”

  Rupert’s mouth fell agape. “But how?”

  “Attack in two steeples,” Sandy said. “Turn back into people. But the witches were never people—they were always witches. It was a tiny loophole that I thought might work.”

  Rupert stared at the bunnies. A gray one bared its teeth, while the rest looked humbled and frightened.

  “Turn us back!” the gray one squealed. “By order of the Fairfoul Witch, I command you!”

  “The Fairfoul Witch, huh?” said Rupert. He picked up a nearby stick and poked the Fairfoul Witch gently in the side. She hissed and tried to bite the stick, but Rupert poked her again.

  Sandy stroked her chin with her thumb and pointer. “Weelllllll,” she said. “Look at this. I’m the only one who has the power to change the bunnies back into witches.”

  “Oh please, please!” squeaked a few spotted bunnies.

  Rupert scanned the bunnies and found the brown bunny that he recognized as Nebby—she was hanging back behind the group with a tawny-looking bunny, which Rupert assumed was Storm. Both their whiskers twitched, but they did not say a peep.

  “Hmmm . . .” Sandy said. “I should turn them all back into witches. They are my family after all, and we witches do do a lot of secret things that keep Gliverstoll working.” Sandy paced around. “But will I?”

  Sandy winked at Rupert, who took his cue. “I don’t know,” he said. “I sure would hate to have to lick their feet or eat my way out of a pool full of Jell-O.”

  The Fairfoul Bunny snarled a deep throaty snarl, but the other bunny witches began to plead. “Oh please!” they said. “Please, Witchling Two, turn us back! We will leave the boy alone! Just turn us back!”

  “I demand to be materialized back into my original form!” the Fairfoul Bunny said. “If you don’t obey right now, I can assure you that you’ll never be part of the Witches Council!”

  Sandy folded her arms. “Then I can assure you that you’ll all be bunnies forever.”

  “Please!” the rest of the witch-bunnies cried. “Turn us back!”

  “Only if you promise to leave Rupert and his family alone,” Sandy said.

  “We promise! We promise!”

  “I need written proof.” Sandy whipped up a scroll and an inkpad with a snap, and each bunny pressed her paw into the inkpad and then marked the scroll.

  The Fairfoul Bunny trudged over to the inkpad. “He broke the rules. You broke the rules. I will not agree to keeping him safe! He knows too much! He must perish—I shall make him eat the sludge from a fish tank—or I shall make him suck eggs up his nose with a straw—”

  “No!” Sandy said. “I won’t change any of you back until you all agree to leave him alone.”

  “But he is a human! We hate humans! We punish humans!” the Fairfoul Bunny howled.

  “You may hate humans, but I don’t,” Sandy said. “And human or not, Rupert is my best friend, and I can’t have you hurting him.”

  The Fairfoul Bunny dipped her paw into the inkpad. She glared at Sandy with her red eyes, and then she stamped the scroll, just below the signatures of the other bunny witches. “I will find some way around this,” the Fairfoul Bunny said. “You mark my words—I will make this boy’s life miserable!”

  Rupert stared down at the Fairfoul Bunny. “You’ve made my whole year miserable,” he said, “but from this point on, you’re going to be miserable, not me. Isn’t this what you call fair and foul?”

  The Fairfoul Bunny spat. “How dare you speak to me like that! I will make you suffer in ways you can’t even imagine. I can make your mother suffer.”

  Rupert trembled with anger. “What happened between you and my mother?”

  “You mean
you don’t know?”

  “I know my mom stole some forbidden potions from the witches, and you claimed me as punishment—”

  “Told you!” squeaked a tiny ginger rabbit. “Told you Witchling Two brought him to see the files!”

  “What did my mom steal?”

  “A fertility potion,” the Fairfoul Bunny snarled. “She wanted a baby.”

  Rupert sat down on the grass. “You—you mean—”

  “Yes, you owe your entire existence to the witches, boy.” She hopped forward, her red eyes glinting with glee. “But it’s time to take back what was originally ours.”

  “And what’s that then?” asked Rupert.

  “You.”

  The Unfair Bargain

  SANDY STEPPED IN FRONT OF RUPERT protectively, even though the bunnies were still stuck in their cage.

  Rupert stepped out from behind her. “I don’t belong to you! You can’t take me!”

  The Fairfoul Bunny lifted her upper lip and showed her enormous bunny teeth. “Oh, but I can. Your mother’s punishment for stealing our forbidden potion was that we were allowed to take back the effects of the potion—you—at any time we wanted. Of course, that deal has since been amended . . .”

  “What do you mean?” Rupert asked.

  “Your pesky mother grew frightened and paranoid that we would claim you, and eventually, she tried to run away with you, but we dragged her back to Gliverstoll. She begged and pleaded for your freedom and your life, and eventually we came to . . . an agreement. I promised to leave you alone . . . in exchange for her services. For years, she has been serving me, doing all sorts of jobs—”

  “What sort of jobs?” Rupert asked.

  “Anything, everything—from delivering potions to our buyers, to testing any new potions, to scrubbing the floors of our lair. She has been paying for you with her labor, sweat, and tears.” The Fairfoul Bunny laughed, and a few others chimed in—but some of the bunnies shook their heads, looking thoroughly unamused.

  “My mom was right about you—you truly are horrible.”

  The Fairfoul Bunny bared her teeth and paced around the cage. “I didn’t tell you the best part, yet. The deal with your mom stated that she was never allowed to leave Gliverstoll again, she was never to cross the witches, and . . .”

  “And?”

  “You were never to cross the witches.”

  That was why his mother never wanted him near any witches. That was why she was always so overprotective.

  “But now you have crossed the witches, the deal is broken, and you belong to me,” she squealed. “And believe me when I say that I will make you pay, you foul, appalling child. You repugnant, wretched huma—”

  “That’s enough out of you,” Sandy said coldly. “You can’t touch Rupert or his family. And no threat you say matters anymore—you already signed the pledge, and now you have to leave Rupert and his family alone. Fairfoul Witch, I will hold you to your oath. I will hold you all to it. Now, I suppose I should honor my side of the agreement, too. I’ll start with my guardians. Warm. Webby.” Sandy snapped her fingers, and Storm and Nebby transformed from the tawny rabbit and the brown rabbit back into witches. Then they transfigured themselves out of the cage.

  Sandy handed the contract to Nebby. “Can you put a magical seal on this? I want an expert to do it.”

  Nebby smiled. “Let’s do it together.”

  Storm nodded. “All three of us. As a family.”

  They stood together, smiling. Then they each snapped. Nebby and Storm said seal, but Rupert swore he heard Sandy say peel.

  The scroll shimmered and rolled up, and Sandy grabbed it out of the air and handed it to Rupert. “Keep this safe,” she said.

  “And now for the Witches Council,” Nebby said.

  “Do you have to turn them back into witches?” Rupert said. “I think they’re much more pleasant this way.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Rupert.”

  Sandy put her arm around Rupert. “Let’s just hope that the lot of them have learned their lessons!”

  Nebby and Storm opened the cage and turned the witches back into their original forms. The Fairfoul Witch scowled, turned on her heel, and sulked into the cave. The Midnight Witch glared at Nebby. “Was this your doing?” she said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Nebby coolly. “I gave Rupert the same potion that was handed to me. If you wish to go around pointing fingers at other witches, then go ahead. But the last time our Council fell into chaos was also the time our last Undercat was overthrown. Just remember that.”

  The Midnight Witch stomped back into the witches’ lair. The rest of the Witches Council and the young witchlings followed suit.

  Nebby put a hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “We should get back to your mother,” she said.

  Storm’s eyes bulged, but her lips cracked into a smile. “In the closet holds a mummy, for her it must be very crummy!”

  “Storm,” Sandy said. “You sure are good at rhyming words. I should pick your brain later about spells I could use.”

  Storm looked aghast and ran down the hill and across the street, shouting, “STAY AWAY FROM MY BRAIN!”

  Rupert turned to Nebby. “Did you know about Mrs. Frabbleknacker the whole time?”

  “The Witches Council just found out this morning. The Fairfoul Witch had us believe that she slept during the sunlight hours. Really, I don’t know how she managed to conceal her job as a fifth-grade teacher for all this time. She truly is as good at magic as her title suggests.”

  “Fairfoul?”

  “No, head witch.”

  “Oh,” Rupert said. “You know, when you gave me that potion, I really thought you were trying to kill me!”

  “I had to put on a show, Rupert,” she said. “I still need to remain on the Council, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few tricks up my sleeve. I switched the vial of potion—I gave you something of my own concoction.”

  “Mmm, what was the potion?” Sandy asked. “I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

  Nebby smiled. “It was a potion that turns the drinker—and whoever the drinker touches—into a rabbit. It’s a highly contagious effect, which is exactly what the situation required—I knew that all the witches needed to be momentarily incapacitated, and I knew that my witchling would never touch a rabbit.”

  Sandy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not ever!”

  Rupert scrunched his face in thought. “But didn’t the other witches have magic, too? Couldn’t they have stopped it?”

  “Never underestimate the power of surprise, Rupert,” said Nebby. “I caught them all off guard.”

  “BEAUTIFUL!” Storm shrieked, and from a distance, Rupert could see her skipping through flowers.

  “That’s my cue,” said Nebby, and she followed Storm down the hill to calm her down.

  Rupert and Sandy walked down the hill together, behind Sandy’s family, toward Rupert’s house.

  Sandy kept bursting out in laughs, and soon she began to jump up and down. She grabbed Rupert’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Rupert! Rupert, Rupert! Now we don’t have to hide anymore! We can go on the playground and we can go get a milk- shake and we can even go swimming! I’m so happy!” she said with a sniffle. “R-rupert? Can I cry now?”

  “Knock yourself out,” he said, and Sandy began to bawl on his shoulder as they walked down the street toward home.

  Finally, the Truth: or, The End of an Era

  RUPERT WALKED INTO HIS HOUSE WITH THE STORM Witch, the Nebulous Witch, and Sandy by his side. He instantly ran into the basement, where he could hear faint knocks from inside of the closet.

  When Rupert opened the door, his mom stumbled out helplessly, falling to her knees. Her hair was all knotted, and dark circles surrounded her bloodshot eyes. At the sight of Rupert, she began to cry.

/>   “Mom!” Rupert said. “I’m so sorr—”

  But he didn’t even have a chance to finish his sentence before his mother pulled him into a hug. She sobbed, kissing the top of his head over and over. Then she held him at arm’s length and said, “RUPERT ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, IF YOU EVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN . . .” But the next moment she folded him into her weeping, kissing embrace again.

  Finally, his mother calmed down enough to sputter, “You are so grounded. Where in the world have you been?” She looked up, but her gaze stopped on Nebby and Storm. “I—I know you. You’re a part of the Wi—” She caught herself and looked at Rupert.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I know they’re part of the Witches Council. And I know they forced you to work for them.”

  “I’m the Nebulous Witch.” Nebby held out her hand, and his mother tentatively shook it. “Ah, now that we’re face-to-face, I do think I recognize you, but we’ve never actually met.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Rupert’s mother began to speak. “I’ve only ever talked to the Fairfoul Witch and the Midnight Witch,” she said, her voice sounding a little timid. “They forbid me from speaking to anyone. And I’ve only stepped foot in the lair during off-hours.”

  “That explains it, then,” Nebby said warmly. “I’m sorry for anything you went through because of them. We aren’t all quite so difficult, are we Storm?”

  Storm walked over and pinched his mom’s cheeks. “Hello, I’m Storm. Lovely, lovely to meet you!”

  “Rupert?” his mom said, calling for help.

  Rupert pried Storm off his mother’s face. And then he told his mother everything, starting at the very beginning. He told her all about Mrs. Frabbleknacker’s trip to the dump, all about her horrible lessons, all about the help he had been giving Sandy, all about Mrs. Frabbleknacker’s true identity as the Fairfoul Witch, and about the great rabbit fiasco.

  “Back up!” his mother interrupted. “Your teacher was the Fairfoul Witch?”