He looked at me sharply. “Are you joking with me?” he said in a small dangerous voice.
“No, I promise. I need you to swear not to look at them, but deliver them, make sure they get them at that time.”
He sniffed. “This Robin I can do, but not my father. He can’t see me.”
“He will…” I said, smiling. “Deliver his second.” He nodded stiffly, but he looked mighty suspicious. “Also, I just need to know one thing. I need to know what door it was that this key leads to.”
As his eyes dropped to my key, he let out a screeching “OHHH!”
“What? What!?” I cried.
“I should never! EVER!” he wailed. “Have sent you the key! It was foolish, selfish!” He began wailing and soaring around the clock tower.
“What do you mean? Ernie, all I need to know is what door it leads to. Then I can end all this!”
“No, you can’t! You think you can, but you can’t! I have got others into much trouble, I cannot do it again. I will not tell you what door that key leads to,” he cried. “Never, EVER! I have done enough damage for a lifetime!”
“Wouldn’t you like to see your Mother again?” I said. The self loathing wails, suddenly stopped. Head in hands, his face looked up through pale white fingers. I jolt of fear trickled down my spine.
“YOU DAAARRRREEEEE!” he flew across the room at me. His face changed. Now a monstrous, demonic version of Ernie’s. Eyes bulged, mouth opened black and huge. Terrified, I screamed and jumped to the floor. He flew round and round above my head hitting everything he could as chunks of wood and debris reined down around me.
Until, finally… there was silence.
Dust and wood continued to fall, but Ernie had gone. His screams reverberated around the broken roof rafters, leaving the clock tower, my plan and Tina’s freedom, in shatters.
Sleep did not grace me that night, or indeed the next day. I spent all night in the Library looking for a blueprint of the school. In some vein attempt of finding this door. I wondered about summoning Ernie again to see if he had calmed down and would tell me yet. But I was still terrified after the last meeting. I continued to contemplate it as more and more books returned nothing.
I was so tired and so stressed, that when I saw dawn rise through the Library windows I wondered if it was a joke? How did the night disappear so quickly? There simply were not enough hours in the day or night! Why did we need sleep anyway? What was the point of it! I was panicking. I ran back to the clock tower and spoke the summoning Spell again. I would forfeit my safety just to find out where this door was. But as soon as he popped into the room, he vanished instantly. Leaving a trail of white smoke, and a foul smell.
I swallowed and again said the summoning Spell… again, he vanished.
The third time, he appeared, before I felt a cold fist connect with my mouth.
BANG!
I hit the floor hard.
The bang on the head seemed to wake me up, more thoughts entered my throbbing head. What if I could find out where Tina was attacked by Malakai? That would surely be the area of the school where the door was? Who was the Magisteer who found her?
Hmm… I hummed to myself… Tina would know. Tina would know? What if, and this was a long shot, what if I could tap into her memories and find out the last place she was? Maybe, and oh this was clever — I could do a revealing Spell on her clothes, or something she had on her at the time?
I set off for the Healer’s room. I climbed down from the Clock tower, full of drive, taking the wooden stairs down five at a time. I took the dusty under passages and squeezed through the gap in the wall and back into the main school. A few people were up, coming back from their morning showers and some on their way to breakfast. I think I needed a shower, but I had no time for that. I would just have to put up with being whiffy.
I pushed open the doors of the Healer’s room. Thankfully, no one was around. I slipped inside and closed the doors. The Healer looked up with her huge pristine smile. I drifted along to where Tina lay, green light flooding through me. Some of the green strands were latching onto me and I felt the energy tingle my skin.
The Healer saw this and frowned. “Are you looking after yourself?” she said.
“Yes,” I said. In truth, I hadn’t eaten a proper meal for weeks. I’d had to make another hole in my belt to stop my trousers from falling down and I’d had so little sleep that I mistook my toothbrush for a pencil.
She continued to frown, her eyes watching the green strands. “You have to take care of yourself, to be able to take care of others,” she glanced at Tina. “Jade doesn’t lie.”
“Who?” I said.
“Jade,” the Healer flicked her eyes to the pulsing green sun.
I knew what she meant, but how could I just stop and have a lovely sleep and a hot meal, knowing that Tina might never wake up? I stayed for an hour, the Healer sat patting Tina’s head for a while and talking in some funny language. Whatever she was doing, it had some effect, as Tina’s body seemed to emit this kind of white fuzzy light.
When she left, I looked around Tina’s bed for something she might have had with her when she was attacked. All her possessions were not here though. Not even her clothes. Partington must taken them.
But wait… she was wearing a ring, I think it was her channeller. I’d never noticed it much before, but I am sure Partington had one that looked the same. It was silver and slim, with black indentations all the way around. I couldn’t make out what but it looked like names.
When the Healer left the room I took Tina’s hand. I felt guilty and my heart began racing. I slid the ring off her finger and lay it on the bed next to her. Glancing around, I knew I didn’t have long, for the Healer would be back any minute. I raised my shaking hand over the ring and said the Spell.
My head flew back in the chair. But this wasn’t right. The vision was surrounded by choking, black smoke. A laughing voice echoed in my head and I saw Tina fall to the floor, Malakai’s skeletal frame standing over her. Then his blue glowing eyes looked at me. Awful choking black smoke filled my lungs and I woke. I lifted my head and choked my guts up! Oozing black gunge came out of my mouth and nose. It was like nothing I had ever tasted. I felt sick and ill. Thick green light began to encircle me as I coughed and coughed.
After an hour, I was better. The Healer returned to the commotion and called me an idiot as she put the ring on the side table. She gave me a bowl of stuff to breath in, covering my head with a towel.
“Idiot, idiot…” she kept muttering. “What were you thinking? She’s been cursed, all her possessions are cursed. What did you think would happen? Do you think people wiser than you hadn’t thought about performing a revealing Spell on her possessions?”
I looked up from under the towel, feeling small… Black goo, not as much as before, was slowly making it’s way out of my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the thousandth time.
As I left, the Healer comfortably content with all the curse goo having gone, I pushed open the door to leave. At the same time, Partington was coming in.
“Ahh!” I said, scared.
“Oh Avis,” he said smiling. I felt awkward as we stood in the doorway together. “What’s that black mark on your face?” he said.
“Oh, just… erm, not sure.” I said, rubbing at it as the Healer cleared her throat loudly behind me.
“Well, I thought I’d come here for a while before we meet in class, seems you beat me to it.”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“You do know we don’t have lessons… it’s a Riptide game. We will be making our way down as a form. Now, go and get some breakfast.”
“Yes Sir,” I said nodding.
The door closed.
No class?
A Riptide game?
I sighed, this was not part of the plan.
Bummer.
I made sure I had some breakfast, even though it felt like the croissant I was eating went down like dry cardboard. I
couldn’t eat. I was slightly hysterical. In just under seventeen hours it was the end of the sign of Handen and the Book of Names would disappear. My attempts at finding out where the door was had failed and in my desperation I did a revealing Spell on a cursed channeller. That had to be one of the more grim experiences of my time here. Malakai knew what he was doing. If he killed Tina, evidence would remain and talented Magisteers would piece the clues together. Yet, by cursing her, no one could find out anything. I scoffed down some boiled eggs and soldiers as best I could. There wasn’t many people in here and those that were, worked away inside their bubble or were asleep on the tables. Poor things. Robin came in just as I was about to leave and stared at me with a glazed look.
“You ok mate?” I said dreamily.
He didn’t say anything for a second, but then blinked, shaking what was the best impression I’ve see of a zombie away. “Yeah,” he said. “Er, food… class.”
Poor thing looked like baby troll, and I should know, Dad keeps one in the dungeons at home. I helped Robin pick out some breakfast and put it in a napkin for him to take up to class. On the way he nibbled his iced bun with spider legs - he didn’t seem to notice and muttered incoherent things about sleep.
“Pick your feet up,” I said. He was dragging his feet, which I hate. “I know you’re tired but there’s no excuse.”
The bun seemed to perk him up a little, so too did the hot cup of sugary tea. When we got to class, everyone was sitting there ready with their Condor scarves and Riptide banners and there was a general buzz of excitement about the first Riptide League game of the season. I was jealous of how well slept they looked. My plan was to get this over with as quickly as possible and get back on with my plan.
“Who’s gonna win then?” announced Graham. “Let’s do a gold bet.”
“Yeah I’m in on that,” said Simon. “I’ll bet ya’ fifteen gold pieces that the Centaurs will beat the Manticores.”
“You got yourself a deal!” said Graham.
“I hate Riptide,” said Ellen. “It’s so violent.”
“Oh, you’re just basing your hatred on what we endured at the start of the year,” said Jake, who’s English had improved so much it was a shock to hear him speaking. “At least we are not playing.”
“Not until next year,” said Gret smiling viciously.
“Yes well,” said Partington, sweeping into the room. “We will get more practice before we play again. I will not have another capitulation like we saw before. Right come on.”
We traipsed out of the school and into the grounds with the other forms. I now began recognising faces and people from around the school. At the start of the year they kind of mixed into one unrecognisable mass. But now, I could put a name to the face, like Brian Gullet who was known as the brainiest kid in our year. His tie colour seemed to change every week. I didn’t know what level he was, but I didn’t see anyone else in our year wearing a pastel purple tie.
Hunter was kind of known as the funny one, along with Jamie Brown and Kenny McCarthy - those three were hilarious together.
There was a bunch of kids who never spoke too, and always looked depressed. I was glad I wasn’t their friend. The main one, the miserablest, called himself John-Paul Hampton and he just shrugged at everything.
There was the Riptide lot, including Joanna, Gret and Jake, who along with Hannah Klide, Bernie Boppet and Jack Zapper, had joined in with the upper years and played matches at lunch and free time. To be honest, there were a lot of different Riptide cliques - it was flipping popular, and they were all mega excited about this game. Some of them were wearing horse’s hooves and waving a gold Centaur flag for their friends in the Centaur’s form. Others were supporting their friends in Manticore, with red flags and this weird looking lion, man, scorpion thing emblazoned on it.
I recognised a lot more Magisteers now as well. Straker had a reputation, some loved him, most hated him. Whereas Partington was known as a bit of a loveable leftie. There was Magisteer Underwood, who arranged all the Riptide games, she was the Magisteer of Magical Creatures. We had her in third year apparently and she looked nice enough, with her long patchwork brown robes and bright blue hair. Magisteer Commonside taught Numerology and Magisteer Yearlove taught Spell-craft, which is the forging of Spells. He was a charismatic man, tall and muscular and very good looking — with dark eyes like a wolf-raptor, black hair and a thick black beard. He always seemed to have a small gaggle of girls following him.
I was so tired I felt like I was in some strange dream. I thought about running back to the castle to save Tina. But, there was simply no way out of this. The Magisteers and sixth years, walked alongside the crowd, down the hill to the stadium. They would spot someone instantly if they tried to bunk off. I couldn’t believe I was being dragged off to watch a Riptide game when I could have been searching the school for the door. It was incredibly frustrating.
The stadium was… rickety. I hadn’t noticed that before and it made me nervous because we were quite high up. No doubt a lot of Magic had been used to keep it in place. Wizard builders always did a bit of bodge job, just patching anything up with Magic. Never trust one. My parents always get Outsiders, and just wipe their memories afterwards. We stood about ten rows up, coming out of the long wooden stairway and finding a spare row near these moody third years. The Magisteers were all standing together across the stadium from us, on this kind of extended wooden plinth. Simon and Graham were going over stats next to me, Dawn ordered three ice creams from some poor ghost who was dressed up as an ice cream girl and Jake and Gret debated tactics. Now the stadium was full. The atmosphere, noise, and buzz of excitement was exhilarating and soon enough I found myself pulled into the spectacle.
The Manticores came out first as this little leaflet popped up in front of us detailing the team and information. They were in the fifth year, wore red shirts and black robes and were an awkward bunch, some looked mean and up for the fight, whereas a few others looked rather nerdy and scared. They made their way onto the pitch to face Magisteer Underwood.
Then the Centaurs walked out, dressed all in shimmering gold, the crowd roared, as the stadium lit up with golden flags.
“They’re the Champions from last year!” called this excited boy behind me. “I want them to win…”
“Pah,” said his friend. “You’re just a plastic fan. You choose whatever team wins so you can share in the glory.”
“Not so, I said a couple of years ago my allegiance was with them.”
“What before they won anything? Whatever,” said the snooty one.
Straker stood out of his chair as the Centaurs took their place and they all saluted him. What was that about?
“He was their tutor last year,” said Robin. “Straker never stops banging on about it.”
Underwood suddenly cried aloud. “Take your positions. As we let the habitat change!” Their was a fizzing sound as the green grass faded away and blinding white light lit up the pitch. Replaced with rising mud mounds, thick green bushes, and a couple of very large oak trees. The crowd Ooooed. I felt really nervous for some reason, perhaps I was remembering what I felt when I stood there, awaiting the flounders to be released, not having a clue what I was doing. There was just time while they prepared to look at the leaflet.
The Centaurs are last year’s Champions. They won the league by 7 points, and the ‘R Cup’ comprehensively. Their top scorer was Marshall Compton-Campbell - A graphic of a mean looking boy whom I was sure I’d seen before, swivelled on the page. Flanked by the leading assist scorers of the season Gemma Icke, and Jenson Zhu. Another two graphics of a pretty girl, slim and slender, and a small Chinese boy swivelled round. I pointed them out to Robin on the pitch. They were really warming up hard, led by their team captain, this huge girl about five times the size of me and as many wide - who then proceeded to take her place next to the fountain. The Manticores have never won a league title in the whole history of Hailing Hall, but their form Tutor Magisteer Commonside is con
fident that this is the year that fortunes can change: “The numbers are in our favour for certain.” He said when quizzed. Their top scorer is Hayden Carmichael with four, and in last season’s campaign they managed one Libero-Manus…
“Whats a Libero-Manus?” I said confused.
The boy behind me spluttered. “You don’t know what a Libero-Manus is?” He had a cocky look to him and looked to be in the fourth year with his yellow robes. His friend frowned at him, obviously used to his annoying nature.
“It’s when one team gets all of the other team in the air,” he said as if it was obvious.
“Ah I see,” I said curtly. “Thank you.”
I read on.
Whereas the Centaurs managed a total of seventeen Libero-Manuses throughout the season. The odds are firmly stacked against the Manticore’s in today’s game.
Graham looked as sick as a dog after reading the leaflet and Simon was grinning broadly and relaying what he could buy with fifteen gold pieces.
The Centaurs new Magisteer and coach is Oliver Trunwood, Magisteer of Magical Illusion, but a keen coach who has led six forms to glory in his thirty three years at Hailing Hall.
“Your balls will appear in your bold hole in five… four… three…”
The whistle blew and off they went as a great roar erupted from the crowd. Suddenly they were off in a great rush of light and noise. Spells instantly whizzed up all around as three of the Manticores shot up into the air and flew back to their bench. The Centaurs’ blue flounder soared across the pitch where a flying Marshall Compton-Campbell caught it and slammed it into an unguarded bolt hole.
“ONE-NIL!” cried Underwood, whose voice was magically increased and carried across the stadium. One Manticore hid behind one of the Oak trees with the red ball, but was immediately surrounded by five gold shirts. He managed to Spell one into the air, but immediately found himself in the same predicament, dropping the red founder, which was now sailing across the pitch to Jenson Zhu, who kicking off a mud hill, Spelled the ball to his teammate Gemma. She caught the ball jumping over two Manticore players, Spelling them in mid air with her left hand while freezing the ground with her right. The oncoming Manticores slipped and sprawled across the ice. Gemma, with incredible agility, chucked the ball through her legs in mid air to Marshall, who Spelled a Manticore into the air and tossed the ball into the bolt hole.
Avis Blackthorn: Is Not an Evil Wizard! Page 17
