Avis Blackthorn and the Magical Multicolour Jumper (The Wizard Magic School Series, Book 2) (26 page)

***

Straker could see I was flagging, my feet noticeably dragging along the floor as I walked. “Here…” he said as I greeted him with barely more than a grimace outside my dorm. I looked at the concoction of thick looking orange liquid in a test tube.

“What is it?” I said curious.

“It will enhance our search,” said Straker, taking another out of his inside pocket, de-corking it and downing the liquid. I raised the orange stuff to my nose — that was a mistake.
Ergghh,
I wretched. “Just drink it.”

“Fine…” I opened my mouth and poured in the thing that tasted like: raw eggs, dirt, soap and toothpaste. With the slightest hint of mango, cucumber and… curry. I clawed at my tongue until the taste eventually passed. Straker stood watching me for a second, until suddenly I felt an enormous swirling inside. I felt energy and optimism start to bubble up, I felt pride and courage, confidence and assuredness. My senses sharpening — I could see far father down the dark corridor, my eyes zooming all the way to the end and reading the number
112
on the door. My hearing was pronounceable better too — I heard the creaking of the wood as someone got into bed. I heard the crackle of an ember, the easing of a stone, the pummelling rain outside, the squelching of someone’s wet clothes. Everything was sharp.

“I must remind you, not to tell anyone about this,” said Straker taking the empty vile. “Otherwise they’ll all want some.”

We began to walk the familiar route, but everything about it seemed different. My footsteps echoed with a stoney recourse, my breathing long and slow, my heart pumping rhythmically with a great sloshing sound. After a minute or two Straker stopped, we had just entered a dark corridor. He waited, un-moving — the light bracket behind us went out and we stood in pitch black.

“Stand very still,” said Straker moving his hands in awkward movements over my head, then his own. My feet tickled with pins and needles, my skin buzzed and felt for one horrible second like it was contracting. Then, two small pops sounded the end of the spell. Straker beckoned me forwards. The light brackets didn't come on and my footsteps were absolutely silent. With the orange potion coursing through me I could see through the darkness as if the corridor was lit by a million candles.

Straker pulled a tiny silver ball out of his pocket, then threw it into the air. It split into two pieces, the parted silver crescents acting like tiny wings beating ferociously. In the middle of these wings was a pure white eyeball. It seemed to awaken, the retina swinging into motion and darting around as the wings beat hard. From out of the retina a bright blue light, laser focused in a concentrated beam, burst outwards. The blue light began scanning every nook and cranny.

“It’s an Occulus’ that I
changed
…” said Straker. “It will scan the area up ahead for us with its laser light focus, I reduced the eye in size, changed its sight, upscaled it so that it can spot invisibles, spirits…
Djinn
. It’s also indivisible to them, but not to us.”

“Woah…” I said amazed that anyone could just create something like this.

“I call it the
Volucer-Illumino
or the Volumino for short.”

“It’s amazing,” I’d never seen anything like it, a flying eyeball that hunted for spirits? It flew far ahead of us down the corridor, its bright blue beam shooting into crevices and crannies, leaving no space unchecked.

“Look it’s got something already!” — The Voluminio was flashing it’s blue light at us. We ran towards it as fast as we could, Straker had his arms outstretched ready to attack.

“No Volumino, that’s the ghost of Magisteer Dodaline’s old cat. Yes, I am sure it was always that scruffy grey colour.” I laughed as the blue light illuminated a bony cat rubbing up against Straker’s leg. The Volumino looked very pleased with itself, it had caught something and now it was teasing the ghost cat by whizzing around its head, the cat watched intently, swiping an old paw at it.

“It might take a bit of adjusting,” Straker admitted getting a little notebook out and writing something.

“But why are you doing all this for me?” I said, Straker looked over his notebook. “I mean, the potion, the spells, the Volumino…”

“Who said I was doing it for you?” he smirked.

“Well, I thought you were helping me to… find the… Djinn?” I stuttered.

Straker tucked the notebook into his breast pocket. “We were getting nowhere were we? I had to think of something. There is no sentiment here, whatever you might think — I have a job to do, help you find and vanquish the Djinn. And this…” he pointed to the Volumino. “Is me doing my job. Just don’t tell anyone about it.”

***

Where on earth had the time gone? Only two months of school remained. They were supposed to be for learning, or maybe extra curriculum activities like playing Riptide. They were not for spending all your waking hours searching for one of the most powerful Djinn, to save yourself from being exspelled. And then, just as I was starting to get hopelessly perturbed and panicked by the lack of progress, something happened…

Two weeks with the Volumino and so far it had found: a rat eating demon in the dungeons, a golem pretending to be a wall, a Florax (a kind of devilish, naughty two foot tall creature that likes to collect teeth, fallen out or
not
) amongst other things.

I grew quite attached to the little thing, it was like having a tiny efficient pet around the place, zooming just ahead of us. But on this particular night, all was quiet. We were searching up high, near the tallest turrets in the school — I was hoping there wouldn't be a window because I think I’d have feinted if I saw the drop. Straker and I stood before, what everyone in the school had dubbed ‘
the death corridor’
— it was just any other corridor, except for the fact that it was very old, and held up exclusively by magic. When looked at from below, the death corridor looked unsafe, suspended in mid-air between two turrets. It was the only way to get across to the other side of the school — this high up anyway.

Even Straker was having second thoughts as we stared along the old passage, but it was too late to turn back now — it would take hours to walk back the way we had come. The Volumino had already zoomed down it, scanning the crumbling walls and sloping mullioned windows. Straker, sensing my panic of crossing the treacherous corridor, threw his hands wide, all the dusty curtains swung shut. I tip toed alongside Straker who strode forwards.

As we reached the half way mark, the Volumino stopped,
flash, flash
went its signal. No, not now!

My breath withdrew inside me, my heart contracting. The Volumino’s blue light shot round and for a second, cast light on a small, hunched, dark cloaked figure with blue glowing eyes.

A tiny clawed hand jerked. The tiny Volumino smashed against the ceiling in a blaze of blue fire. Then fell to the floor with a thud.

“Avis—” but Straker didn't have time to finish what he was saying. With no warning, the hunched figure clapped — the spell rippled through the air.

A cracking, splintering noise echoed ominously. The floor was beginning to give way! I looked back, my worst nightmare confirmed… the spell was collapsing the corridor! It was starting to fall in on itself! Straker grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and pulled hard. But, we started to slide down, legs giving way beneath us. Twenty feet behind us was the exit. I had to act, or we wouldn't make it. I jumped up against the almost vertical floor, grabbing a fist of Straker sleeve. CRACK! Went the floor, it was falling backwards — we had seconds! I double tapped the shoes, gold light erupted in a frenzy. I began to run against the vertical corridor as Straker cried out. The shoes connected with carpet. A burst of speed somehow pushed us forwards, scrambling up the carpet. Using everything to scratch our way up. But, a gap had formed between corridor and safety. The corridor had broken away from the turret! I pulled at Straker’s sleeve, holding it tight Before
…
sprinting and jumping. Wind wailed, gold light lit the dark blue sky temporarily as we soared across it. The dark gap yawned beneath us.

And then… floor. We slid into the safety of the turret as the death corridor broke away completely and fell.

“
NO
!” Straker cried, leaning over the precipice. He aimed his hands at the block of falling stone — its descent slowed, then stopped in mid air. Straker was breathing heavily, arms and hands trembling. His face drawing pale. Below was the fifth floor, the corridor would fall into the school causing unknown damage… I lay useless, what could I do? Red sparks shot out of Straker’s hands, zooming across the dark night and into the Lily’s office window.

A second later the Lily appeared, climbing his window and onto a stone plinth that appeared as he walked, he raised his hands instantly. The weight of the corridor being taken caused Straker to collapse. The Lily sailed the collapsed corridor gracefully down towards him, placing it neatly on the lawn below. He fixed us a stare from his plinth, a voice next to us suddenly said: “
Come to my office.
”

I lay back on the stone floor. My hammering heart beating like a drum. Straker sat shaking his head. “How on earth did we get out of that?” he said. There was a funny little buzzing noise above our heads. “You made it!” I cried as the Volumino, flapped towards us. It made a funny whistling noise in greeting, beating furiously to stay in the air, it’s wings cracked and juddering. The retina and blue light flashing all over the place. Straker cupped his hands softly around it, closing the silver wings over the eye until it stopped moving.

“The Lily will not be happy about this,” said Straker looking out of the gaping hole in the turret where the corridor used to be.

“Whatever that thing was, it was powerful right?” I said, but Straker said nothing.

We walked back in silence. The events had clearly shaken Straker up, me as well, I felt giddy. If it hadn’t been for the Seven League Shoes we’d both be splattered all over the school roof by now. It couldn’t have been the Djinn for that was tall and transparent. This thing that attacked us, was short and stubb
y
— the same thing I’d spotted in under the stadium, in the toilets and now again, but what was it?

Outside my dorm before leaving to go to see the Lily alone, Straker turned. “Can you please beat the Swillow’s on Saturday,” he smiled then grimaced as he walked away into the darkness. The ominous feeling of something bad being about to happen was a keen sense that I’d developed from living with an evil family. And I felt it now.

***

Partington
was pacing up and down, kicking up dust. The dorm room was stuffy and nervous — one more sleep and we would be playing the Swillows in the semi-final of the Riptide Cup. Everyone was fraught with nerves. Hunter kept trumping which stank the room out and Simon had completely chewed his fingernails until they started bleeding. Partington’s owl like face was scrunched up with what looked like painful contemplation. Joanna was reading out tactics to employ against the Swillows based on their apparent weaknesses.

Graham tutted. “Ah, but you see there Jonna what you say about having two people follow Jasper — shouldn't it be three?”

“But,” said Joanna. “If we make it three, we will have to sacrifice the defence for Robin hunting for the Ornaments.”

“I see,” said Partington rubbing his lined face.

“I can help mark him?” I said gleefully.

“No!” said Jake and Gret. “You are our top goalscorer. We need you to do just that.”

“Okay, okay, I was only kidding.”

Jake huffed. “This is no time for jokes.” I thought about telling Jake that we were not going to war, this was just a game. Believe me, I wanted to get one over on Jasper and the Swillows as much as the rest — the whole reason I had risked going to the Library at night was to find a way of being good at Riptide, so to prove a point to Jasper and Tina. And this grudge match would be the pinnacle of that point. But I didn’t want to sit here running over all the different tactics that we’d forget as soon we stepped onto that pitch.

“Jess!” said Gret. “Pay attention!”

Jess sat up, looking sleepy. “Don’t tell me what to do, who do you think you are?”

“I am someone who want to ‘vin this match!”

“So am I!” screamed Jess.

“Ladies, ladies!” Partington cried. “That’s enough. Now Ellen, please tell me about this four point plan to counter the threat of their front three.”

The past week had been no better, the closer we got to the game the more fractious the energy. Not just between us and Jasper’s form in lessons, but between ourselves. There was a clear divide between the team with Joanna, Jake and Gret clearly thinking that the rest of us were not as passionate about winning the cup as they were. I was in the middle of i
t
—
small pointless arguments over dinner, little niggly comments in form, pointing accusations in class — it was all building up to a horrible conclusion.

In form one afternoon Dennis tutted when Joanna started to say something about tactics. “Why did you just tut? Is it not important for you?”

“Here we go again!” said Dennis. “We’re sick of hearing about your tactics!”

“Too right!” said Graham, slamming a fist on the table waking up Hunter.

“Oi!” said Jake. “Don’t talk to her like that. You could do with a boost of passion that she has if we’re ever gonna win this match!”

Florence sighed. “There are more things to life than Riptide!”

“That is not the right attitude!” said Gret loudly. Robin buried his face in his book like a turtle every time they started arguing.

“Look guys…
GUYS
!” I cried, finally snapping. I was fed up with it all. I had enough to think about without them bickering. “What is the point?” I said slowly. “What on earth does this solve? Joanna, Jake, Gret… people show passion in lots of different ways and just because they don't show it in the way you were expecting doesn't mean they aren’t…
up for it
. We’ve got this far by being a
team
. Now, the only way we can win the next match, even to have any chance against them… is by being a united team.”

There was a big rivalry brewing between the Manticore’s and Hesserbout form. They looked as stressed out as we were, but being older I suppose they were used to the adulation and speculation. “That’s Connor McKendry,” said Dawn with wide adoring eyes looking towards a good looking blonde haired boy. “He’s the Hesserbouts top scorer…”

We were sucked into the speculation and gossip as much as anyone else. I would often hear my name mentioned in the Chamber and glance across and see people exchanging gold. The anticipation in the school was reaching fever pitch. Not helping the fact was the rivalry that already existed between me and Jasper — “
All because of a girl…
” I heard one boy say, as if, were it not for her me and Jasper would have been best mates.

Even lining up outside Yearlove’s classroom, we stood in our separate forms not looking at each other, and in absolute silence, until Yearlove called us in. I could feel a tight knot in my chest. I desperately wanted to beat Jasper, I mean so very, very much. Partington also said this was the first time in a century that two second year teams had met in the semi-finals of the cup.

That last week before the match was the most tension I’ve ever experienced. I kept needing to go to the toilet. Whenever I did Robin would either already be in there, or follow me and go again. I was still receiving small hisses and boos around the Chamber when I entered for lunch, the majority still uncomfortable with being conned into liking me. This led to a kind of majority likability for the Swillows, which Jasper was lapping up every second of. He had taken to announcing to the entire Chamber that he’d just received the support of another seventh year, or another sixth year form.

On the wall in the Hall, someone had graffitied over our Condor icon with: ‘
black-magic blackthorn’ —
in our world to be accused of black-magic is pretty horrible. What’s worse is that the idiot cursed it to the wall, so that it couldn’t be removed.

Next to it, on the wall was an unofficial support wall where people could place a mark showing their support for that team (so they knew how many scarves and flags to change colour before the match). Large markings in different bright colours littered the wall under Swillow’s with messages of support and things like:
beat those black-magic Condor cheats,
and even
we’ll pay 10 gold for taking Avis out…
and things along those lines. Under our form there was nothing.

It was like a giant boulder of support had careered into the Swillows and suddenly they had the support of the entire school — it became against the grain to say you were supporting the Condors. In fact, everywhere we now went, white Swillow scarves flashed in our faces. They had all changed their ever-changing scarves early, so they could figuratively and literally rub it in our face. I would be lying if I didn't say these things effected me. They did.

That last night in bed I lay, feeling very small. Jasper had won the popularity contest, now I had to make sure he didn’t win the match.