Zak Turner - A Twist In Time (30 page)

BOOK: Zak Turner - A Twist In Time
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“Eighth of February nineteen ninety eight,” replied Steven, a little bit over-awed by the mysterious wandmaker.

“Very good, very good.  Now let me see, early February, hmmm, well the wood for
your
wand will be Rowan my boy.  Excellent.  A strong and sturdy wood it is too, just right for a farmer, as you will no doubt be well aware.  Although these days I expect most of the machinery on your farm is made of steel, not wood, am I right?”

Steven nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but the wandmaker swept on. 

“Rowan has other properties though, as well as its physical strength.  Chief amongst them is its ability to protect those close to it.  I‘ll warrant there’s a Rowan tree or two around your farmhouse eh?  I thought so.  Your ancestors might not have been magical, but they listened to those who were!”

“You need to keep your wand with you always, young man, for rowan is a powerful talisman.  It will hide you when others seek to harm you, and will help you come to the aid of friends and loved ones.  It will give you a clear mind, revealing the truth of any situation, and unlocking that which is a mystery to others.  It will guide you and those with you, and the wisdom it imparts will be obvious to all.  Many will turn to you in times of trial and distress.”

The wandmaker was watching Steven carefully as he spoke, weighing him up, and trying to get the measure of this second hidden wizard.  He like what he saw.

“Now for the cores of your wand.  Nineteen ninety eight means your magical birth sign is a tiger, and that would have given me a little problem a few weeks ago, for I’d used my last tiger whisker in Zak’s wand.  However, me cousin is in India just now, studying the ancient magic of the Garuda, so at great risk to her life, she went into the jungle and found a tigress asleep after her dinner.  The animal wasn’t too impressed when she woke up to see Flo running off with one of her whiskers mind, but the girl managed to port away before she became the tiger’s desert!  Feisty lady she is that one!  The tiger I mean, not my cousin.  Those attributes will now be present in your wand and will transfer to you.”

“Now, the second core of a MacElver wand is from the owner.  That’s you!  A hair from your head will do nicely, and even though it’s a bit of a tousled mess…” the smiling wandmaker reached out his long fingers and swiftly plucked a hair from Steven’s head, “…you’ve got nice long hair which should be easy to work with.” 

“The final core of the wand comes from a magical creature, and that magical creature will actually select you, not the other way round.”

“These,” said the wizard as he spread about fifty rowan wands round the stone table that surrounded the cave, “are wand
blanks
.” 

“Each one already has a core inside it from a magical creature, and one of them will choose you.  So, go round the table slowly and pick them up one at a time.  You’ll know when you’ve got the right one.”

Findlay MacElver watched very closely as Steven picked up the wand blanks, held them, and put them back down again.  He was a little bit concerned because he’d barely detected
any
magic in Steven when he shook his hand, and was fearful that the young farmer might not feel anything when he picked up the wand that had chosen him, if indeed a wand
had
chosen him. 

The wizard council had deliberated at great length over whether Steven was sufficiently magical to qualify as a true wizard.  They’d only approved a wand licence for him following the influence of Sir Philip, or Lord Middleham, as he was known inside the council chamber.  They had stipulated that the wand must clearly choose him, and that he must cast a conjuring spell with it before he left the shop.

Steven was slowly working his way round the cave picking up all the wands, and wondering how he’d know which was his.  Neither Zak, nor Tallion, had told him anything about what had happened when they’d got their wands, so he had no idea what to expect.  Several looked really good, and he picked up each one hoping that it would be his, but nothing happened so he put them down again. 

His eye caught sight of a slightly crooked wand that looked just like a thin branch from a tree, almost unworked apart from having one end shaped roughly into a handle.  He kept glancing across to it as he went through the others, and was soon hoping that he felt nothing each time he picked up another wand!

Findlay MacElver noticed what was happening.  He’d seen plenty of eleven-year-olds choosing wands before, and many saw one that they liked and looked at it hopefully as they went through the rest.  That particular blank was less than a month old, and he wouldn’t normally have put it in the box in such a rough state, but something had interrupted him while he was working on it so he’d dropped it in the box as much to keep it safe as anything.

Steven finally reached out to pick it up, willing it to be the one that had selected him.  The tingling sensation that ran up his arm wasn't overpowering by any means, but it was very clear and made him open his eyes wide and catch his breath.  Then he smiled as he realised this was what Mr MacElver had meant.  He knew he’d got the right one, and glanced up at the smiling wandmaker.

“Well, well, well.  I would never have expected it young man, but I have to say it suits you very well.  It’s a little bit raw though, I don’t really have it in the condition that I’d normally sell a wand.  Would you like me to work it up a bit more for you?”

“No thanks Mr MacElver, it’s just perfect.  It looks more like a twig than a wand, ‘an it feels just right in me hand.  No-one‘ll ever suspect ‘owt, an’ fer me that’s probably best.”

“You could be right, you could be right, young man, but I’m not so sure about the last part.  However, I’ll leave it just as it is, but you’ll need to keep it safe, though.  A twig on a farm is likely to end up in the fire!” 

“What I’m going to tell you now must remain a secret young man, a secret between you and your wand.  It’s a life partner, your wand is, closer than any girlfriend or wife will ever be.  You need to trust it completely, and it needs to trust you completely, and you both need to look after each other and respond to each other’s needs.  Only then will the partnership work at its best.” 

“The final core in your wand is a spine from a Frost Dragon’s mantle, a rare and difficult item to come by if ever there was one!  I know of only six frost dragons alive today, and no other wandmakers would venture anywhere near them in order to get a spine, of that I’m certain! 

Neither will I again, for I escaped by a hair’s breadth!  I’d cast a homing charm on myself so that in the event of my death, my body would be ported back here, and it’s a good job I did.  When the dragon froze me with his breath, the magic activated, and several hours later I woke up sitting in my favourite armchair in front of the fire. 

I soon thawed out and came to myself, but it was much too close for comfort!”

Steven wasn’t sure whether to believe the tale he’d just been told, but everything about this magical world was so far removed from reality that he decided it might just be true. 

“The characteristics of the Frost Dragon will now pass to you young man, and highly prized they are too!  Long life, survivability, secrecy; all of which suit you down to the ground.  Take care of it young man, very great care of it, and very great care with it.  It’s no toy!”

Findlay MacElver ushered the wide-eyed Steven back out of his cave, and smiled to see
four
Middleham’s waiting in his shop.

“Well young Bjarne, it’ll soon be your turn my boy, not too long to wait now, and not long after that for you Miss Freya.”  He gave the two children a small bow each, and then turned back to Steven.

“Right sir, I think I have all the ingredients I need, so now I just need to bind them all together into a wand.  Pop back along in an hour or so and we’ll give it a try.”

The wandmaker bowed again, this time to Sir Philip and Lady Middleham, and headed back through the door into his workshop.

* * *

One impatient hour later, after the by now traditional early lunch in the village café, the group gathered again in the wandmaker’s shop, and were soon joined by the elfish owner.

“There you go young Steven, one incognito little twig, with a few special cores and some added power.  What do you think?”

“I love it Mr MacElver, will it really work for me?”

“It’s just as magical as any other wand I’ve ever made young man, so the answer to that is yes!  Now take it from the box and give it a wave to see what happens.”

Steven very carefully picked up the rowan wand, and once again felt the tingling in his hand and arm, stronger this time, strong enough to reach into his heart!  He looked up at Mr MacElver in surprise only to find him smiling serenely back.

“Now, might I be permitted to see the very first spell ever cast with this wand?”

“Aye, o‘ course!  You’ll need ter tell me what ter do though…”

Findlay demonstrated the wand movement and incantation for conjuring ‘a surprise’, and encouraged his young customer to have a go.  It took six attempts, with Findlay correcting and helping him each time, but Steven didn’t get despondent, just more and more determined, a trait of which Findlay approved, and which he commented on.

With the sixth attempt, Steven’s pronunciation had improved dramatically, and the basic wand movement flowed well enough so that a small heart shaped pendant appeared on the shop counter, made from a ruby red crystal with a platinum chain!

“I think I know a young lady who’d like that very much Steven, don’t you?”

Steven was still staring in surprise at the perfect piece of jewellery on the counter.  He’d felt the magic well up inside him as he cast the spell, and sort of tingle its way down his arm.  The wandmaker’s comments only slowly registered in his mind.

“Erm, yes sir!  Umm, how did you know?”

“Lupus Proudfoot isn’t the only one with sharp eyes,” was the enigmatic response.

Bjarne came and stood next to his older friend and congratulated him on his wand and the result of his first spell as they inspected them both.  Lady Middleham gently steered them towards the exit while her husband spoke quietly with Findlay MacElver.

“Well, I think that clinches it then Findlay?”

“Absolutely Lord Middleham, absolutely.  I had very strong doubts myself because he radiates so little magic, almost none really!  That will be very useful for him though, because ‘twill allow him to pass undetected through charms and traps.  There is plenty o’ magic inside him to be sure, and when the wand selected him all my doubts faded away.  It’s a very curious wand, and I was surprised that it chose him.  It’s no weakling despite its looks.  That wand will win duels mark my words!  It has hidden power, much like its master I feel.  Maybe something to do with the combination of cores…”

After handing over the wand care kit that always accompanied a MacElver wand, the Middleham’s and Steven left to go back to the castle via the Proudfoot’s home.  Findlay stood in his shop doorway watching them go as they walked down the street, pondering the events of the last couple of hours. 

The primary traits of a frost dragon were indeed survivability and longevity, together with an unsurpassed ability to remain hidden.  To his knowledge, and according to the written record, none had ever been killed, and no-one knew how many there were.  The mysteries surrounding them were all the more intense because they were extremely difficult to find!  They could blend in to the background so well that even if you were staring right at one you would most likely not see it.  

Steven’s magic already had that tendency, and barely revealed itself to anyone.  Now, with the frost dragon wand, that effect would be enhanced immeasurably.  The boy was going to become the ‘frost dragon wizard’, unknown, unseen, undetectable, and, Findlay smiled to himself, very unassuming.  His own magic would always surprise him, for he would never think of himself as a wizard, always as a farmer who could do a bit of magic.

“His time will come though, of that there’s no doubt, especially with
his
friends!” muttered the wandmaker to himself as the Middlehams walked out of sight.

* * *

When they got back to the castle, Sir Philip provided Steven with a wand pouch the same as Zak and Tallion’s, and showed him how the wand became invisible and intangible to everyone except himself when he put it in to the pouch.  He then took him to the next suite along from Zak’s and told him that it was now his, and explained how it would be equipped for his needs.

“I think that you need to join Zak and Tallion for magic lessons too, if you can.  Regularly.  How will your dad react if you tell him that you’d like to come up here every Friday after school and stay over to Saturday?”

“I dunno Sir Philip, I have work ter do on t’ farm, and he needs me on t’ weekends.”

The baronet studied the reluctant wizard before him, and smiled inwardly.  So many people would jump at the chance of living in the magical world, as Zak and Sophie had done, but Steven really did prefer his farming.  It endeared the youngster to his mentor no end!

“How do you think he’ll react when you tell him that you’re a wizard, or at least, that you’re magical?”

Steven winced.  Ever since the moment in the field behind the post office when Zak had told him what he was, he’d been putting off telling his parents.  He knew he had to in the end, and he hated keeping it secret, but they’d likely think he’d gone mad! 

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