Witch Silver (6 page)

Clara almost knocked her bedside lamp over as she grabbed for her alarm as it went off in a jangle of noise that set her pulses racing. Convinced that she must have woken at least half of the school, she switched it off hastily and sat up straight in bed, listening frantically. Nothing, however, stirred and she released her breath in a sigh of relief as she looked round the room. It was becoming more familiar now and the posters she’d stuck up on the walls looked really cool.

She slipped quickly into some dark trousers and pulled on a top, before twisting her long hair back into a ponytail so that it didn’t flop over her face.

It was then that she took a grey, dull-looking ring from the third finger of her right hand and transferred it to the ring finger of her left hand. She looked at her reflection in the long mirror fastened to the back of her bedroom door. It showed her room and nothing else. She was invisible. She smiled softly as she switched it back again. The magic rings were for
emergencies
only and really, there was no need for them at this time of night. No one would be around to see them and they’d be as quiet as mice.

Excitement thrilled through her as she thought of the adventure to come. Would they find the talisman in the hall fireplace? She hoped they would for otherwise the possibilities were endless. Most country houses had big, open fireplaces and if there was another clue in the riddle, she had yet to find it.

Cautiously, she opened her bedroom door and holding onto
the banister made her way carefully down the spiral stair, grateful for the moonlight.

The school seemed totally deserted and although she crept quietly along at first, her confidence gradually grew and by the time she reached the long corridor that led to the main staircase, she was striding along, thoroughly enjoying the adventure.

She stopped abruptly, however, when a black shadow suddenly swept across the stretch of windows that lined the corridor. An owl, she thought, flying in front of the moon? No, surely it was too big for an owl. She turned and, looking out to see what sort of bird it was, clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. There, flying in the darkness above the grounds of the school was a witch; a witch on a broomstick.

Heart racing frantically, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes off the shadowy figure that was growing ever smaller as it headed out towards the main road and the hills beyond. She was only roused from her trance by a whispered voice.

“Clara,” she heard Neil call from the end of the corridor. “Clara? Where are you?”

Clara turned. She had forgotten all about meeting Neil. “Neil,” she choked.

He ran lightly up to her. “What’s the matter?” he hissed. “Clara! What’s wrong?”

“Neil,” she said, grabbing him urgently, “you’ll never guess what I’ve just seen! I … I was on my way to meet you and … and something flew across the window. You’re never going to believe this but … it was a witch,” she said, “a witch on a broomstick!”

“A witch!” Neil’s eyes narrowed as he strode to the window and looked out over the moonlit grounds. “There’s nothing
there now,” he observed.

“I know,” she whispered impatiently. “But that isn’t what’s freaking me out! Listen to me, Neil! I reckon she came from
inside
the school. I’m sure she did; from one of those windows over there.”

“I think that’s the staff living quarters,” Neil said, peering out.

“You know what it means, don’t you?” she said in a whisper.

“Yes,” Neil’s voice was hard as he answered, “It means that one of the staff is a witch! Look,” he said, “what if we just have a quick peep at the fireplace in the big hall. If we do it now, then at least it’ll be over and done with — and it won’t take long, either.”

“Okay,” Clara whispered, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go!”

They slipped silently down the main staircase and over the stone-flagged floor towards the hall. For a moment, Neil thought it might be locked but the door handle turned quite easily and, shivering with excitement, they crept inside.

Moonlight lit up row upon row of chairs, set out for
assembly
the next morning, but they only had eyes for the massive fireplace at the far end of the hall.

It was so big that when they clambered inside, Clara found she could stand upright under the chimney. But although they went over it carefully, there was nothing to show that anything had been hidden there.

Clara looked disappointed as she stepped back and shook her head. “There doesn’t seem to be anything here,” she
whispered
.

“What about the library?” Neil said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “It has a big fireplace in it as well.”

Clara nodded. She had recovered from the shock of seeing the witch and wasn’t the least bit tired. Besides which, she was
quite enjoying their midnight adventure. The library, however, was further away than she’d thought and she quickly lost track of where she was. “Is it much further?” she whispered.

“Just along here,” he replied.

They both stopped, however, when they reached the heavy, panelled door, looking at it uncertainly. It was ajar. Someone was in the library! At this time of night? Who could it possibly be? Neil leant forward quietly. “Change your ring over,” he breathed in her ear, “just in case …”

Clara nodded and promptly disappeared as she changed her magic ring to the other hand. She couldn’t see Neil now and, reaching out, felt for his arm as he pushed the door open a little further so that they could slip inside.

At first they couldn’t see anybody. Maybe, Neil thought, the door had just been left open by accident; but then again, perhaps not.

Don’t let there be a witch, Clara was thinking. Please, don’t let there be a witch.

Walking silently, they moved from aisle to aisle, slipping between the high bookcases, searching each alcove for the intruder. Then they saw him and Clara breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, she thought. It wasn’t a witch, after all; it was one of the staff.

Neil froze, recognizing the German teacher, Herr von Grozny. At first he thought, quite naturally, that the man had come to the library to look for a book but this was not the case. Not the case at all. The man was obviously searching for something, his hands moving swiftly and methodically behind the rows of books.

Neil pulled on Clara’s hand and they moved closer to him. It was a mistake. They realized it the minute the man stiffened. His head lifted and he seemed to sniff the air before whirling
round, his pale blue eyes searching the room.

Neil couldn’t believe it. He knew they were there! Heart beating fast, he tugged on Clara’s hand.

She didn’t need to be told. They had to get away. Nerves tense they moved steadily backwards, very gently, step by step. Herr von Grozny, however, made for the door at a run and Neil’s heart sank as he realized that the room, although huge, was a trap. There was only one way in and out.

Just as Von Grozny reached the door, however, one of the school janitors appeared; a stooped, elderly man with greying hair.

“Is anything the matter, Herr von Grozny?” he asked.

There was a curious, strained silence. Von Grozny
straightened
and his eyes flashed coldly blue as they met those of the old man. Such was the tension between them that Clara gripped Neil’s hand hard.

“No,” Von Grozny said slowly, “I came down to look for a book.”

“You didn’t find it, then?” the janitor said, observing his empty hands.

“Er … no, I didn’t.” He looked at his watch. “My goodness, it’s much later than I thought. My apologies. I’ll look for it again tomorrow.”

“That’s fine then, Sir,” the janitor smiled. “Off you go and I’ll lock up.”

Von Grozny shot the man a furious, somewhat baffled, look before striding swiftly away down the corridor. The janitor, however, seemed in no hurry to leave. He left the door
standing
wide open as he inspected the library to see that everything was intact and by the time he returned, Neil and Clara were long gone.

Once they had escaped from the library, Neil and Clara had hurriedly agreed not to wear their firestones in class in case the witch, whoever she was, sensed their magic. Still trembling with shock, their one idea was to reach the safety of their rooms in case von Grozny was still prowling the corridors. There was barely time to say anything else and for the rest of the week both had waited eagerly for Friday to come so that they could discuss what had happened.

“We’ve lots to tell you,” Neil said to his mother as he and Clara entered the kitchen. Mrs MacLean, however, busy unpacking groceries and feeling more than slightly flustered, hardly heard him.

Frowning as she scanned the assortment of food that lay on the work surface, she sighed as she handed Clara a carton of milk to put in the fridge. “Living between two houses isn’t a picnic,” she observed irritably. “I
always
seem to manage to forget something!”

It was only later that evening when they’d had dinner and were settled round the fire that Mrs MacLean remembered Neil’s words. “You said that you had lots to tell us when you came in. Did something happen at school?”

Neil told them with Clara chipping in occasionally.

“You saw a witch — on a broomstick?” her mother said in disbelief.

“I was wearing my firestone,” Clara nodded. “That’s why I could see her. She’d be invisible to everyone else, of course.”

“What worries me most about the whole affair is that Herr von Grozny
knew
we were in the library,” interrupted Neil, “we were wearing our rings and only magic people would sense that we were there, you know.”

Clara nodded. “I had German yesterday,” she said with a sudden shiver, “and I was scared to look him in the face.”

Neil nodded. “We’re all dead quiet in his class,” he admitted. “But he’s a superb teacher. I can speak quite a lot of German already, you know. It’s …”

“It’s what, Neil?” his father queried, looking at him in surprise, for Neil had stopped abruptly.

“I was going to say,” Neil swallowed, “that it was … almost magical how easily I was picking it up.”

Clara looked at him, gathering his meaning. “Yeah,” she said thoughtfully, “I’ve been finding it dead easy as well. Do you think he is? I mean, using magic to get us to learn?”

Neil nodded.

“Maybe we should go up to Edinburgh tomorrow,” Mrs MacLean said uneasily as she looked across the room at her husband. “I’d be a lot happier if the MacArthur knew what was going on.”

Her husband nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed, “but it’ll have to be next weekend. You’re forgetting that the builder’s dropping by tomorrow with some tile samples.”

“Next week will be okay,” Neil nodded, “and you don’t need to drive down to collect us,” he added. “We can get the school bus to drop us at Berwick Station and catch the train up to Edinburgh.”

“Great,” Clara said, her eyes shining at the thought of an unexpected train journey, “and you never know, maybe the MacArthur will be able to solve Auntie Muriel’s riddle as well,” she added.

The MacArthur raised his eyebrows when he read Clara’s riddle and, handing it to Hamish, Jaikie and Archie, looked at her thoughtfully. The talisman, as he had told her, was a powerful object of magic and what the Lords of the North would say at such a turn of events, he wasn’t quite sure. Arthur, the great dragon, curled contentedly beside the MacArthur’s chair,
listened
with the others as Neil and Clara recounted what had happened at school the week before and, when they’d finished, said in his hissing, dragon voice. “Lady Merial has given you a dangerous task, Clara.”

Everyone nodded and looked questioningly at the MacArthur.

“We were hoping that you might be able to work out the
riddle
,” John MacLean said hopefully.

The MacArthur shook his head as did Hamish, Jaikie and Archie. “I wish I could, but I’m as baffled as you are,” he
admitted
.

“I was hoping that Kitor might be here,” Clara said, looking round for the crow that had shared many of their adventures. “I thought it might be a good idea if he and Cassia could come to school and stay with us for a while. The grounds are huge and there are lots of trees around for them to hide in. They’d be able to keep a look out for the witch and tell us where she goes and everything.”

“That’s not a problem,” the MacArthur smiled. “They’ll be back soon and you can sort it out then. I’m sure they’d love to stay with you.”

“That’s a great idea, Clara,” Neil said, sitting up straight on his cushion. “They could take messages between us, as well,” he added, looking at the MacArthur. “We hardly see one another at school,” he explained, “and we need to keep in touch.”

“It’s a pity that we’re too far away from Edinburgh to call our magic carpets all the time,” Clara said. “They’d be ideal for exploring the countryside.”

Hamish and Jaikie looked at one another and then at the MacArthur. “Er … there are always the broomsticks,” Jaikie offered tentatively.

“Broomsticks?” Neil and Clara repeated together, looking at him in amazement. “What broomsticks?”

“The Snow Witches’ broomsticks that we used when we were trying to get the Sultan’s Crown from Prince Kalman. We brought them back from Ardray, remember?”

“Yes,” nodded Clara, “that’s right, we did … I remember now.”

“Well, they’re here,” Jaikie said. “Hamish and I saw them just the other day. They’re in one of the store rooms.”

“Brilliant,” Clara said, looking eagerly at the MacArthur. “That would mean that Neil and I could meet up at night and nobody would know.”

“Hmmm,” said the MacArthur, looking doubtful.

“We have our magic rings as well,” Neil reminded him, “no one would see us.”

“It’s not that,” Archie broke in, suddenly concerned. “The witches are a vicious lot and they have some really nasty hexes up their sleeves. You’ve got to be careful.”

Seeing the look of apprehension that crossed Mrs MacLean’s face, the MacArthur beckoned Neil and Clara forward.

“Come here a minute,” he said, “and give me your firestones.”

Lifting their hands to their necks, Neil and Clara unfastened the chains that held their glowing firestones. The MacArthur rose to his feet and putting them on a small side table, hexed them. The flash of light that streaked from his fingers made them jump, even though they were expecting it, and they watched with fascinated eyes as, for a second, the firestones
glowed with a luminous brilliance. It wasn’t often that they saw the MacArthur use his magic and they were impressed.

It was only when the light faded that the MacArthur handed them back and as Clara fastened her firestone round her neck, she felt its magic spark against her.

“You said that the teacher in the library sensed that you were there, even though he couldn’t see you and had no way of knowing that you were there?” the MacArthur said.

They both nodded.

“That for me was the most interesting part of your story,” he said, sitting back in his chair and adjusting some cushions as he fished for his pipe.

“I thought …” Neil ventured. “I thought that he could smell us. I know it sounds stupid,” he added quickly, “but he sort of raised his head and sniffed the air.”

There was a deathly silence as Hamish, Jaikie and Arthur stiffened and looked at the MacArthur.

“Does your German teacher have striking blue eyes?” Archie asked in a curious voice.

Neil nodded.

“Pale blue eyes?”

Again Neil nodded and Archie’s face turned as white as a sheet.

“The Onegin!” Jaikie whispered, looking at the MacArthur in awe.

“On – yeg – in?” repeated Neil curiously. “Who or what are they?”

“The Wolf People,” Hamish breathed, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Neil and Clara eyed one another sideways as Arthur sent a streaming curl of fire over the paved floor round the dais. Wolf People?

“I guessed as much,” the MacArthur said. “That’s why I put a powerful spell on your firestones.” He glanced at Neil and Clara. “No one will be able to sense your presence now,” he assured them, “neither the witches, nor the wolves. As long as you’re wearing your firestones, they won’t know you are among them.”

“But I don’t
want
Neil and Clara to be among them,” Mrs MacLean said jumping to her feet. “The witches were bad enough but wolves as well …” She turned to her husband, almost in tears. “John, say something!” she implored. “This is dangerous!”

“It does sound dangerous,” admitted the Ranger, looking at the MacArthur in some concern. “Who and what are these Wolf People? They sound quite frightening!”

“They
are
frightening,” Archie muttered under his breath.

The Wolf People come from the Erevin Mountains in Central Europe, mainly from a little state called Ashgar — where Merial’s father lives,” the MacArthur said slowly.

“Then, that means that Merial’s father, this Lord Jezail, has sent Herr von Grozny to find the talisman!” Neil said in quick understanding.

“From what you’ve told me about him, I rather think his real name is Count Vassili Onegin,” the MacArthur said.

“That figures,” Jaikie nodded in agreement and then, seeing their puzzled expressions, added, “he’s Lord Jezail’s right-hand man.”

The MacArthur continued. “You see, I always thought that Lord Jezail would want the talisman back when Merial died. He’s too old to search the countryside for it himself so he’s sent Count Vassili instead.”

“And what if he finds it,” the Ranger asked, “or the witches?”

“We need to make sure they don’t,” the MacArthur said, his
face serious. “Merial left the talisman to Clara and it is most important that
she
is the one to find it.”

“Yeah,” agreed Jaikie, “you’ve no idea what the witches would get up to if they got hold of it! There would be storms, floods, famine and goodness knows what else. And knowing the Snow Witches — well, personally, I wouldn’t put it past them to start another
Ice
Age
!”

Mrs MacLean took Clara’s hands in hers. “
I
think the
talisman
should go back to Murial’s father … this Lord Jezail,” she urged. “After all, you’re not a magic person, Clara.”

It was on the tip of Clara’s tongue to agree with her mother but to her surprise as much as everyone else’s, she found herself shaking her head. “No way, Mum,” she answered firmly. “Auntie Muriel wanted
me
to have the talisman and I’m going to find it and use it as she knew I would.”

“Well said,” the MacArthur smiled and nodded but only Jaikie noticed that his eyes were, nevertheless, doubtful.

“And now,” Neil said, having the last word, “all we have to do is find the answer to the riddle!”