Weava the Wilful Witch (5 page)

‘Party time, girls!' Mrs James called gaily, as she hung up strings of plastic spiders in the loft on Friday afternoon. ‘Jemima,
do
put on a costume! I've bought you some lovely ones.'

‘No,' said Jemima.

Mrs James threw up her hands in frustration. She was about to say something else when Merry climbed into
the loft. ‘Oh, hello, Mary!' she said. ‘Give a goodie bag to every child. Remember, there's a prize for the best costume.'

Merry looked anxiously around the cluttered loft. ‘Calm down,' she muttered to herself. ‘These bats and cauldrons and witch hats are only pretend. The guests will be children in fancy dress. Weava, for once, will not look out of place. And nothing bad can happen at this party because Weava doesn't have a wand.'

‘Here we go,' said Mrs James, as the clock struck five. On cue, the trapdoor creaked open and two little boys dressed as Dracula came in. Three girls in pink fairy costumes followed, and soon the room was crowded with children dressed as witches, ghosts, robots and fairies.

Mrs James soon had some of them bobbing for apples, while Merry handed
out goodie bags and organised games.

Spooky music played from Mrs James's sound system. Children yelled and laughed. The loft smelt of sweet food, face paints and straw.

Jemima backed into a corner. ‘This is awful,' she complained to Weava. ‘Mum's got that green wig on again! If only Merry hadn't broken your wand.'

‘It will be all right,' said Weava.

‘This is disgraceful, witchling,' the kit-fae said in Weava's ear. ‘How dare these humans make fun of fairy-breed ways? That woman has a fake fruit drink in a witch's cauldron! It would serve her right if I turned it into a potion.'

‘Remember the rules,' said Weava. ‘I have to do the bad deed, or I won't get my Badge of Badness and a place at the Abademy.'

The kit-fae sniffed. ‘You'll have to think of something quickly,' it said. ‘The hags won't wait forever.'

‘It will be all right!' said Weava again. She really,
really
hoped that was true.

The clock struck six, and Weava crossed her fingers. She waited…

And then a cream cake flew out of nowhere and hit her in the face.

Weava wiped cream off her chin. ‘Who threw that?' she asked.

The kit-fae went to investigate.

‘There's a
troll
in that barrel,' it said when it returned. ‘It says you invited it.'

Weava sighed happily. The invitations she had delivered had got into the right hands.

The troll grinned up at Weava as she
peeped into the barrel. ‘Good party, witchling,' it said, and hurled a cake at a passing pixie.

‘Thanks for the invitation,' said the pixie. She darted to where a little boy was bobbing for apples and dropped a snail down his shirt.

Weava saw three spooks drift through the skylights, and spotted some goblins eating apples in the corner. Under the long trestle table, she found nine small imps playing pass-the-parcel with a giggling lizard-fae.

Everywhere she looked, she saw fairy-breed.

‘It's working!' she said to herself.

Jemima was passing by. ‘What is?' she asked.

‘My bad deed! I took invitations to all the places where the fairy-breed live.

Lots have come. They'll scare the humans and Merry will
have
to do something about it. Um…where
is
Merry?'

‘She and Mum went to bring up more food for the party,' Jemima said. She looked around. ‘Nobody looks scared to me,' she added.

‘They will be once they see the goblins.' Weava pointed. ‘See? There's one.'

‘What, that boy dressed as a vampire?'

‘No, the lumpy one at the table. And there's a troll behind that barrel.'

Jemima looked behind the barrel. ‘No, there isn't.'

Suddenly, Weava realised what was wrong. She crawled under the table. ‘Take your DNM spells off,' she said to the imps. ‘Pass the word about.'

‘Oooh,
can we?' said the pixie girl who had spoken to Weava earlier. She squealed
with delight and took off her DNM spell, then chased after two spooks. The message flashed around and all the fairy-breed removed their DNM spells.

Jemima stared as two trolls began a food fight. ‘This is brilliant!' she said to Weava. ‘Just wait until Mum notices! She'll never hold another party!'

She giggled as a goblin stuffed a whole pie into his mouth. ‘Nice manners!' she said. Then she glanced up at the ceiling. ‘Oh look…there's another kit-fae!' she said, pointing.

Weava looked up among the fairy lights. The kit-fae was perched beside a creature that looked like a cosy tabby cat with wings. As she watched, the tabby-fae flew to land by her feet.

‘Hello, witchling,' it purred. ‘I hear you are trying for a Badge of Badness.

It is an honour to be a part of your big bad deed.' It sauntered off, and rubbed its body around the legs of a little girl nearby. The girl stumbled and dropped her drink all over her costume.

‘Thanks, tabby-fae,' said Weava.

A boggart jumped out of the applebobbing tub and splashed over to Weava. ‘Grand party, witchling,' it said. Then it noticed a small boy staring at it. ‘Boo!' the boggart roared.

The boy staggered back and sat in a sponge cake.

The boggart giggled until it rolled around on the floor.

All the children at the party began looking over their shoulders and backing away. Soon they were shuffling towards the door.

Just then, Mrs James arrived with a
tray of pumpkin pies. A troll barged up and seized three pies.

Mrs James was knocked off balance. ‘Careful, dear,' she said, trying to steady the tray.

The troll grabbed more, and a spook floated down to catch the crumbs.

Mrs James gasped. ‘C-calm down, children!' she cried, but the real children were too frightened to listen and the fairy-breed ignored her.

Weava danced through a cloud of bats.

The kit-fae turned somersaults in the air. ‘Brilliant, witchling!' it yowled. ‘The hags are bound to award you a Badge of Badness for this!'

Weava spotted Merry at the entrance to the loft. She ran over to her sister. ‘Isn't this the best Halloween party ever?' she said.

Merry went pale. ‘But I broke your wand!' She patted her pocket with both hands. ‘And mine is still in my pocket.'

‘I know,' said Weava. ‘I managed to make this party magic even
without
a wand.' She looked up. ‘It's time you gave up trying to make me live like a human.'

Merry said nothing.

‘Well?' said Weava, raising her voice above the hubbub.

‘Weava…you don't know what you're doing!' Merry cried. ‘Look at all these little monsters!' she moaned. ‘And those trolls are letting off stink bombs!' she added as a dirty yellow cloud of smells rolled across the loft. ‘Send them away, Weava!'

Weava folded her arms. ‘If you don't like them, Merry,
you
send them away.'

‘I can't!' cried Merry. ‘They won't listen!'

‘Well,' said Weava. ‘You'll just have to get your wand out of your pocket.'

Merry went whiter than ever. She turned and dashed to the trapdoor and out of the loft. The next minute, a hideous noise clattered and yammered through the building.

The tabby-fae watched Merry leave. It blinked once, and then flew out of the skylight, away into the night.

‘That noise is the fire alarm!' cried Jemima.

Merry returned and herded children down the ladder that led out of the loft. ‘Hold hands and head to the entrance hall,' she said. ‘Be careful. Don't run.'

‘Whatever's going on?' asked Mrs James, swatting at a bat. ‘What's that smell? Mary, did you sound the fire alarm?'

‘Yes,' said Merry. ‘Didn't you smell gas? It was so strong that it was making us see things. I think there might be a leak.'

‘Nonsense!' said Mrs James. She gazed at the goblins. ‘What are those rowdy children doing here? I don't recognise them.'

Merry didn't answer. Instead, she took Mrs James by the arm. ‘The children were babbling about monsters!' she said. ‘It
must
be gas.' Then she grabbed hold of Jemima with her free hand and steered Mrs James and her daughter downstairs. Mrs James protested all the way.

Brimstone Buildings emptied within minutes as people spilt out of the flats and down the stairs. Soon all the humans and most of the fairy-breed had left the loft.

‘Where is everyone?' asked a goblin.

A troll launched another stink bomb. ‘Them pixies and elves can't stand a good stink,' it said. Then it laughed and looked about. ‘Well, there's no fun to be had now, witchling,' it added. ‘No humans left to scare. Guess we'll be off.' It grinned at Weava and put on its DNM spell.

‘I'm off, too,' said the goblin. It whistled shrilly and two more goblins and six boggarts grabbed fistfuls of cheese from the tables and clattered down the steps.

Weava and the kit-fae were the only ones left.

Weava's lip quivered. Her face crumpled and she began to cry. ‘All that, and Merry
still
didn't do a spell,' she sobbed. ‘It's no use. She's still acting like a human. I won't get my Badge of Badness, will I?'

The kit-fae looked at her sadly. ‘I'm afraid not, witchling,' it said. ‘But I can talk to the hags. Maybe they'll let you start again with a new bad deed.'

‘No, they won't,' said Weava. ‘I'll never get to the Abademy now. And I haven't got my sister back, either.'

The fire brigade arrived, and big men in helmets and uniforms stormed up to the loft with fire extinguishers and hoses.

Parents flocked to the steps of Brimstone Buildings and left quickly with their nervous children.

Mrs James protested that a silly young woman had imagined a gas leak and panicked. No one listened to her.

Eventually, the fire chief returned. ‘We couldn't detect smoke,' he said.

‘I never said there was any,' said Mrs James. ‘
I
didn't sound the alarm. It was that stupid Mary Charm who wasted your time and spoiled my party.'

‘There is a smell of gas, however,' said the chief. ‘The person who sounded the alarm acted properly.
You
were the careless one for holding a party in a loft.'

‘Oh, fiddle,' said Mrs James. ‘We have a fire escape.' She tailed off and stared at the fire chief. ‘I really like your uniforms! Is it possible to get them in child sizes? I think my next party will have a fireman theme! It can include a fire drill and…' Still babbling, she turned away.

Jemima sighed and clenched her fists. She went in search of Weava, and found
her coming slowly down the stairs. ‘What a mess!' she said.

‘Yes,' said Weava. ‘I won't get my Badge of Badness now.'

‘Never mind that!' snapped Jemima. ‘Mum's already planning another party. She's going to hire a fire truck next time. My ditzy mum is going to tell me fireman parties are
fun
. So much for helping me to change her!'

Weava sighed. ‘If a bad deed like that didn't put your mum off parties, or make Merry cast a spell, nothing will.'

‘You're a failure,' said Jemima, and trudged after her mother.

Weava was almost glad when Merry took her by the hand and led her silently up the stairs to Number 13.

‘Aren't you going to yell at me again?' asked Weava.

Merry looked at her sadly. ‘What's the point? Whatever I do or say, you just go on doing silly, dangerous things.'

‘I needed to win my Badge of Badness,' said Weava. ‘It's the only way I can get into the Abademy. And I really want to go there, Merry.' Her lip trembled. ‘I've been so lonely since you left home. There are no other witches my age near Wandwood. Dad does his best, but a witchling shouldn't spend all her time with grown-ups.'

‘I wish you'd forget about this Abademy,' said Merry. ‘School is far less fun than you think.'

‘But I want to be with bad fairies my own age,' said Weava. ‘Don't you remember the fun we used to have when you got your spells wrong on purpose!'

‘I got them wrong because I was no
good at magic,' said Merry. ‘I
pretended
I was doing it on purpose. I couldn't pretend at Wand College, and everyone laughed at me. Do you know what they called me?
Messy Harm!
Once I turned a tutor's cloak into cobwebs with a cleaningspell. Everyone laughed at me. I left as soon as I could, and I decided I'd never have anything to do with magic again.'

‘So you're living like a human because your classmates made you sad?' said Weava. ‘And you're scared the same thing will happen to me if I get into the Abademy?'

‘That's right,' said Merry. ‘I've been trying to save you from being as miserable as I was.' She gave Weava a kiss. ‘Now, come and have some hot soup. Then you can go to bed.'

‘I thought you were being silly,' said Weava. ‘But really, you were just trying to protect me from being unhappy like you.'

‘I don't want to think about it any more,' said Merry.

*

Weava was lying in bed with gloomy thoughts going round in her head when something scratched on the window.

Sadly, Weava opened the window for the kit-fae.

‘I've come to say goodbye, witchling,' it said. ‘You tried hard, but it didn't work out. I have to go back to the Abademy to report to the Head Hags. Now don't cry,' it added, as fresh tears dripped down Weava's face. ‘You can't go to the Abademy, but I'm sure your dad will be pleased to see you back home.'

Weava tried to smile as the fetch flew away into the night, but she couldn't manage it.