her nose with it.
“Better. Thanks, Knot, but stay close till we’re home, I might need you again. Aaachoo!” Sneezing fitfully, Signora Strega-Borgia headed for home. The StregaSchloss lay before her, tucked snugly into a fold of land that tapered off into the sea loch. Faraway lights glimmered across the water. The distant puttering of a lobster boat putting out to sea and the leathery flap of Sab and Ffup wheeling around overhead were the only sounds disturbing the silence. StregaSchloss looked like a ship at sea.
Unfortunately, a captainless ship, thought Signora Strega-Borgia, blinking rapidly to forestall the inevitable tears that came when her thoughts turned to her missing husband. Captainless, but not adrift, she reminded herself. Sailing with Mrs. McLachlan firmly at the helm. For the umpteenth time, Signora Strega-Borgia gave silent thanks for the good fortune that had brought dear, sensible Nanny McLachlan to StregaSchloss.
Her home beckoned, its dark mass dotted here and there with lights shining from windows, magically afloat in a night garden.
“Aaachoo!” sneezed Signora Strega-Borgia, breaking the spell.
Wordlessly, Knot extended an arm.
… And the Night Within
I ’m only doing this because I’m desperate, thought Pandora, tiptoeing into her mother’s bedroom. The room was in darkness, but she could just about make out the shape of Signora Strega-Borgia’s briefcase on top of her bed. I wouldn’t do this normally, you understand, continued Pandora, undoing the buckles and pressing open the latch. Raising the lid, she opened the briefcase and gazed inside.
On first glance, the contents were disappointing. Ordinary, even. One half-eaten chicken sandwich plus crumpled cookie wrapper, one pocket calculator, a small cell phone, a packet of assorted wands (with seven left in the pack), and one two-ring binder. What, no toads? thought Pandora. No vials and potions? Not even a Collapsa Cauldron or some dehydrated Eye of Newt? She picked out the packet of disposable wands and put three in her pajama pocket. In the darkness, she failed to notice the small print on one wand that proclaimed it to bea
Contrawand—reverses spells, undoes charms, and nixes hexes,
and in even smaller print:
The manufacturers recommend six (6) uses only before safe disposal as hazardous magical waste.
Intrigued by the two-ring binder, Pandora found it to be full of page upon page of her mother’s handwriting. Hmm, thought Pandora, this looks promising.… She meditatively ate the remainder of the chicken sandwich, reading by the dim light from the open doorway, and after a couple of pages, found what she was looking for. It read:
Downstairs, the front door opened and Pandora heard her mother’s voice calling the pets to order. A honk and a splash from the moat signified Tock’s bedtime and the sound of footsteps and rattling chains meant that Signora Strega-Borgia was leading Sab, Ffup, and Knot back to the dungeon. That gave Pandora about two minutes to leave the bedroom exactly as she had found it.
Stuffing everything back into the briefcase, she carefully removed three relevant pages of spells from the two-ringbinder, wedged them under her pajama top, and replaced the binder in the briefcase. She had just enough time to press the latch closed, buckle the straps, and hurl the briefcase back on the bed before she heard her mother sneezing her way back up from the dungeon.
Pandora slipped away along the corridor and up one flight of steps to her own bedroom. Judging by the lack of light from under Titus’s door, he had fallen asleep, happy in the knowledge that his sister was one day closer to her swim with Tock. “Just you wait, Titus,” she muttered, pulling the quilt over her head and turning on her flashlight. “First I’ll get to grips with these wands, and then … you’re toast.” She removed the sheets of spells from under her pajama top and began to commit them to memory.
The Schloss slept, the
“Better. Thanks, Knot, but stay close till we’re home, I might need you again. Aaachoo!” Sneezing fitfully, Signora Strega-Borgia headed for home. The StregaSchloss lay before her, tucked snugly into a fold of land that tapered off into the sea loch. Faraway lights glimmered across the water. The distant puttering of a lobster boat putting out to sea and the leathery flap of Sab and Ffup wheeling around overhead were the only sounds disturbing the silence. StregaSchloss looked like a ship at sea.
Unfortunately, a captainless ship, thought Signora Strega-Borgia, blinking rapidly to forestall the inevitable tears that came when her thoughts turned to her missing husband. Captainless, but not adrift, she reminded herself. Sailing with Mrs. McLachlan firmly at the helm. For the umpteenth time, Signora Strega-Borgia gave silent thanks for the good fortune that had brought dear, sensible Nanny McLachlan to StregaSchloss.
Her home beckoned, its dark mass dotted here and there with lights shining from windows, magically afloat in a night garden.
“Aaachoo!” sneezed Signora Strega-Borgia, breaking the spell.
Wordlessly, Knot extended an arm.
… And the Night Within
I ’m only doing this because I’m desperate, thought Pandora, tiptoeing into her mother’s bedroom. The room was in darkness, but she could just about make out the shape of Signora Strega-Borgia’s briefcase on top of her bed. I wouldn’t do this normally, you understand, continued Pandora, undoing the buckles and pressing open the latch. Raising the lid, she opened the briefcase and gazed inside.
On first glance, the contents were disappointing. Ordinary, even. One half-eaten chicken sandwich plus crumpled cookie wrapper, one pocket calculator, a small cell phone, a packet of assorted wands (with seven left in the pack), and one two-ring binder. What, no toads? thought Pandora. No vials and potions? Not even a Collapsa Cauldron or some dehydrated Eye of Newt? She picked out the packet of disposable wands and put three in her pajama pocket. In the darkness, she failed to notice the small print on one wand that proclaimed it to bea
Contrawand—reverses spells, undoes charms, and nixes hexes,
and in even smaller print:
The manufacturers recommend six (6) uses only before safe disposal as hazardous magical waste.
Intrigued by the two-ring binder, Pandora found it to be full of page upon page of her mother’s handwriting. Hmm, thought Pandora, this looks promising.… She meditatively ate the remainder of the chicken sandwich, reading by the dim light from the open doorway, and after a couple of pages, found what she was looking for. It read:
Downstairs, the front door opened and Pandora heard her mother’s voice calling the pets to order. A honk and a splash from the moat signified Tock’s bedtime and the sound of footsteps and rattling chains meant that Signora Strega-Borgia was leading Sab, Ffup, and Knot back to the dungeon. That gave Pandora about two minutes to leave the bedroom exactly as she had found it.
Stuffing everything back into the briefcase, she carefully removed three relevant pages of spells from the two-ringbinder, wedged them under her pajama top, and replaced the binder in the briefcase. She had just enough time to press the latch closed, buckle the straps, and hurl the briefcase back on the bed before she heard her mother sneezing her way back up from the dungeon.
Pandora slipped away along the corridor and up one flight of steps to her own bedroom. Judging by the lack of light from under Titus’s door, he had fallen asleep, happy in the knowledge that his sister was one day closer to her swim with Tock. “Just you wait, Titus,” she muttered, pulling the quilt over her head and turning on her flashlight. “First I’ll get to grips with these wands, and then … you’re toast.” She removed the sheets of spells from under her pajama top and began to commit them to memory.
The Schloss slept, the
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