The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star (13 page)

he Supreme Magician’s castle was bustling with activity as they swooped down to land in the central courtyard (a little shakily for the first-years, who hadn’t been flying long). Once they had got their breath back they were escorted to the Great Hall, which was three times the size of the Great Hall at Miss Cackle’s Academy. It was already two-thirds full with the pupils of Pentangle’s, resplendent in their purple uniforms, and the trainee wizards of Moonridge High, dressed in dark grey suits and black ties with a single crescent moon in the centre. At the front of the audience stood a raised platform with three throne-like chairs padded in green velvet. Facing the audience was a magnificent stage complete with gold curtains, which were closed ready for the opening act.

‘Who’s on first?’ asked Mildred, her confidence draining away, as she contemplated the expectant audience and the enormous stage.

‘I think it’s Moonridge High,’ replied Maud, consulting the piece of paper that she had found on her chair. ‘They’re doing a “Battle of the Broomsticks”, whatever that is, and then it’s Pentangle’s. Oh, look, they’re doing a broomstick ballet just like ours. We’re on last with “The Joy of Flying” so you’ll be a nice surprise for the judges.’

‘Let’s hope it
is
a nice surprise!’ laughed Enid. ‘I s’pose it helps that we would have been doing another ballet after Pentangle’s, so you and Star will at least be different.’

‘Shh,’ said Maud. ‘Here come the judges.’

Everyone leapt to their feet as the judges passed through the crowd on their way to their thrones, turning to greet the audience as they stepped up on to the platform.

The Supreme Magician and the Chief Wizard had traditional long flowing beards, and the Magician’s robe was covered in embroidered stars while the Chief Wizard’s was plain dark purple. Both wore gowns like university professors over their robes, and the Grand High Witch was dressed in plain black, with ankle-length white hair spread dramatically over her shoulders like a cloak. Despite her severe style of clothing, the Grand High Witch had a kindly look about her face with deep crow’s feet round her eyes as if she laughed a lot.

‘Welcome to you all,’ said the Chief Wizard, smiling vaguely at everyone. ‘First of all, let me thank the Supreme Magician for his generosity in lending us this magnificent castle for the most exciting competition of the century! My fellow judges and I have certainly been thoroughly entertained for the last two weeks by all your efforts and we have been most impressed with the standard so far. Your three schools are the final acts in a long line of superb entries and I’m sure we won’t be disappointed. So, without further ado, let us see what Moonridge High has in store for us!’

The judges turned to face the stage, settling themselves comfortably on their thrones. Everyone fell silent as the curtains drew back to reveal eight Moonridge boys on broomsticks, four of them dressed as wizards, complete with flowing false beards, the other four dressed as dragons. The costumes were excellent and the music (vigorously played on a grand piano in the wings by the Moonridge chanting master) was a stirring rendition of the ‘William Tell Overture’ as they zoomed about the stage, the wizards zapping the dragons and the dragons trying to knock the wizards off their broomsticks. There was only one mishap, when a wizard’s beard snagged on a dragon’s wing and pinged across the stage, but the judges laughed good-humouredly, and the piece drew to a dramatic close with the wizards chasing the dragons out over the audience’s heads, before landing back on stage to take their bows.

The audience erupted from their seats, cheering and clapping, especially the Moonridge supporters. Mildred’s stomach lurched even deeper into her boots as she imagined herself up there on her own, relying on Star to get it right in front of all these people.

‘How do I get myself into situations like this every single time?’ she whispered to Maud. ‘I was really looking forward to our ballet and suddenly it’s all up to me! The Moonridge boys were good, weren’t they?’

‘Not as good as you’ll be,’ said Maud loyally. ‘Just take some deep breaths – you’re going to be fine.’

Tabby was snuggled on Mildred’s lap. All the cats were sitting with their owners; everywhere you looked there were black cats – on laps, on shoulders and draped along the backs of chairs. Only Mildred had a tabby, showing up like a striped apron against her black gymslip, and of course Star, who was curled round her ankles so she couldn’t go anywhere without him.

While Pentangle’s were performing their ballet, Miss Drill, who was dressed in a rather sensible dark blue suit (Miss Hardbroom had asked her to tone it down a bit for the trip), tapped Mildred on the shoulder. ‘You’re on next, Mildred,’ she whispered. ‘You’d better bring the dog and come backstage, ready for lift-off – so to speak!’

Mildred got up and beckoned for Star to follow her. ‘Could you hang on to Tab for me?’ she asked Maud, plonking the little cat on to her friend’s lap. ‘They won’t both fit on the broom.’

‘Course,’ said Maud. ‘Best of luck, Millie.’

‘Fingers and toes crossed!’ whispered Enid. ‘Just pretend you’re out in the forest, flying for fun!’

‘Shh!’ said someone from Pentangle’s in the row behind. ‘We’re trying to watch the ballet!’

‘Sorry,’ said Mildred, crouching down as she shuffled out of the row of seats, some of the cats arching their backs and spitting at the sight of the jaunty little dog with his waving tail.

ildred crept along behind Miss Drill, who led her out of the hall, round to a large dressing room directly behind the stage. It was full of props and costumes, including Moonridge’s wizard and dragon costumes, now neatly stacked in a corner. Mildred could hear the ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ thundering impressively out of the grand piano as Pentangle’s performers twirled and plummeted around the stage, presenting their ‘Hallowe’en’ broomstick ballet in gorgeous flowing silk robes. There was a stone archway at each end of the wall and Mildred peeked through in awe as the dancers zipped expertly past.

Miss Hardbroom was unrolling the moon and stars backdrop, which had fortunately been stored in Miss Cackle’s study and escaped the blaze.

‘Ah, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom, beckoning her. ‘Come and help me with this, it’s a trifle heavy.’

Mildred rushed to help, joined eagerly by Star who grabbed the edge with his teeth, taking backward jumps, growling gleefully.

‘Just the two of us, Mildred!’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘We don’t need canine assistance, thank you!’

‘Drop it!’ said Mildred firmly.

Star immediately let go of the backdrop, scampered round the back of Mildred’s ankles and sat gazing up at her, awaiting further command.

‘Impressive, Mildred!’ said Miss Drill admiringly. ‘He certainly does what you tell him. Now then, here’s your broomstick – do you need anything else, piano music from Miss Bat perhaps? She is most willing to play any music you like, if that will help.’

‘I think I’d rather do our act without it,’ said Mildred, ‘if that’s OK. I’ve never rehearsed with Miss Bat and it might not work if I’m trying to fit the moves to music that I don’t know.’

Miss Hardbroom sat back on her heels, smoothing the last few feet of unrolled backdrop. ‘What
are
you going to do out there, Mildred?’ she asked searchingly. ‘I must say, this does seem to be a huge gamble, sending the Worst Witch and a completely untested dog out in front of an audience of hundreds, in the vain hope that everything will go right – which is usually the opposite in your case, from what I remember.’

‘I’ll do my best, Miss Hardbroom,’ mumbled Mildred, trying to ignore the hurtful dig about being the Worst Witch.

The music came to a halt with a flourish and once again they heard the audience burst from their seats, clapping and cheering, sounding to Mildred’s ears, as if they must have been the best performers of all.

Miss Drill noticed the crushed expression on Mildred’s face and dropped a kindly arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on, Mildred,’ she said encouragingly. ‘You know, it’s very brave of you to take this on all by yourself. I’m sure you can do it – you and your little friend here.’

The curtains closed and Pentangle’s ballet team streamed through the archways into the dressing room, laughing noisily and trailing their brooms along behind them.

Miss Hardbroom and Mildred, assisted by Miss Drill (who had to be careful on account of her bad knee), dragged the backdrop through one of the arches and hung it up on the back wall of the stage. It looked very small, like a painting above a fireplace, rather than a piece of scenery.

‘It’s a bit small, isn’t it?’ commented Miss Drill. ‘I think Miss Mould must have got the measurements wrong.’

The size of the backdrop was the least of Mildred’s worries as she stared around the gigantic stage, her heart banging so loudly she felt sure that everyone must be able to hear it. Star could tell that his adored mistress was anxious, so he shuffled up next to her, wagging the tip of his tail just to let her know that he was there. Mildred smoothed his head with one hand and held the broomstick with the other, wondering if she could possibly back out.

‘You can’t back out now, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom, appearing to read her mind. ‘For some unknown reason, Miss Cackle is convinced that you and this creature can make us proud –’

‘And I’m sure she
will
, Miss Hardbroom!’ interjected Miss Drill, smiling encouragingly at Mildred, who had turned very pale and looked as though she was going to be sick.

‘Come along, Miss Drill,’ said Miss Hardbroom crisply. ‘We’d better be off – time for the dancing duo to show what they’re made of!’

Miss Drill lagged behind for a moment as Miss Hardbroom strode through the archway into the dressing room. ‘You’ll be fine, Mildred,’ she said soothingly. ‘Just be yourself!’ Then she hurried after Miss Hardbroom, leaving Mildred feeling as tiny as an ant, alone in the centre of the stage.