Halloween Havoc Read online

  Aunt Hemlock shook her head. “You know I can’t abide cats. That’s why I have my lizard.” She pointed to Wane, who was clinging to her shoulder like a leathery green parrot. “But it must belong to someone. Speak up. Who owns this magic pet? Get it out of the way.”

  “I do not belong to any witch or wizard here,” I said, spitting the words out in Cat Chat, which I knew everyone would understand – everyone except poor Esme, of course. She just stared down at me in surprise. The last time she had seen me I was wearing a fluffy cat suit with whiskers made from wool and mittens for paws … would she ever guess I magicked myself into the real thing? I stared up at her, never blinking my big cat’s eyes, and hoping that somehow she would know it was me.

  “Bella!” she whispered, picking me up and gathering me into her arms. There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. My best friend knew me at once. “Oh, Bella, you came!”

  “Of course I came,” I answered. But all she would hear, of course, was my soft cat purr. She might know it was me, but I couldn’t speak to her in human words while I still took the form of a cat.

  “It seems the creature is not magical at all. It is the Person’s pet,” said a wizard.

  “Oh, Bella, what are we going to do?” whispered Esme. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Not exactly…” I shook my head. She didn’t need words to understand I had failed her. How could we defeat a hundred witches, wizards and warlocks without a magic wand?

  “Never mind the cat!” cried a restless banshee. “Let’s turn the pesky Person into a pumpkin and be done with it!”

  “Yes, go on, Mistress. Turn them both into pumpkins!” giggled Wane.

  Aunt Hemlock dug into the pocket of her robe and pulled out her thin bone-white wand, made from the jaw of a crocodile.

  I looked around desperately, but there was no escape. I might have been able to slip out of the circle and dart between someone’s legs, but I wasn’t leaving Esme. Not now.

  “Pumpkins! Pumpkins! Pumpkins!” chanted the crowd dancing wildly round us.

  “No!” I sprang out of Esme’s arms and flung myself at Aunt Hemlock’s feet. “This is all a terrible mistake! Let my friend go and turn me into a pumpkin instead. Please, Aunt Hemlock,” I begged.

  “Aunt Hemlock? Who calls you that?” said a short warty-faced witch, stepping out of the crowd.

  “Ignore it. It’s just a little black cat,” screeched the banshee.

  But Aunt Hemlock shook her head. A terrifying look of realization had come over her face. I slunk back.

  “There is only one horrible little brat who calls me ‘aunt’,” she cackled. “And that is…”

  “Belladonna Broomstick!” spat Wane, perched on her shoulder.

  “Exactly! My hopeless niece!” Aunt Hemlock crouched down and stared deep into my cat’s eyes. “So it’s you, is it? Back again. Like a bad smell in the wind.”

  “Yes. It’s me,” I hissed, arching my back. “Now leave my friend alone.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aunt Hemlock grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and held me high in the air.

  “I thought I banished you from the Magic Realm for good, Belladonna Broomstick,” she sighed. “How dare you come back here disguised as a cat and bring a Person spy into our world?”

  “We didn’t mean to come!” I blustered. “It was a mistake – the hat made us come. Then I turned myself into a cat and…”

  “You turned yourself into a cat?” Aunt Hemlock’s jagged mouth fell open in surprise.

  “Liar! You can’t do magic, Belladonna Broomstick!” Wane laughed so hard he nearly fell off Aunt Hemlock’s shoulder.

  “Do you expect us to believe that?”

  “I heard Belladonna was so hopeless at magic she failed her exam to Creepy Castle School for Witches and Wizards,” sniggered the short warty-faced witch who I recognized now. Her name was Mother Newtbreath. I’d sat next to her mean daughter, Nightshade, in the test for Creepy Castle.

  “Of course she can’t do magic!” Aunt Hemlock sneered as I wriggled and tried to get free. “Stay still!” She jabbed her long thin wand towards my soft belly.

  Poof! There was a horrible swirly feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, as if my whole body was being turned inside out. Seconds later, I was myself again, standing on two feet, wriggling my fingers and toes.

  “So, it really is you, Belladonna,” said Aunt Hemlock. “But whatever are you wearing?” She stared at my fluffy Halloween cat suit in surprise.

  “It’s a costume,” I said. “My friend has one too … that’s why she looks like a witch.” I pointed towards Esme. In spite of everything, she gave me a little thumbs up and tried to smile.

  “I don’t understand.” Aunt Hemlock scratched her head.

  “That’s why Esme had my hat on earlier,” I explained. “She’s not a spy. She was just dressing up. Persons love wearing costumes. They put them on at Halloween and pretend to be witches or wizards … or cats.”

  I trailed off as the entire Coven collapsed in fits of howling giggles.

  “Persons dress up!” The banshee threw back her head and roared with laughter. “Why would they do that?”

  “Because they are too stupid to change themselves with a spell!” scoffed Aunt Hemlock. “Just like you, Belladonna Broomstick. Somebody must have helped you … or put a hex on you. Turning yourself into a cat is clever magic. You’re far too hopeless for that.”

  “Believe what you want.” I sighed miserably. There was no point in telling her about my new flamingo wand. It was lost … perhaps for ever. Maybe I’d never be able to do magic again. And I had no idea how to save my friend.

  “Get over there!” Aunt Hemlock shoved me hard. “Stand next to your precious Person pal,” she hissed.

  I ran to the middle of the circle and grabbed Esme’s hand.

  “Bella!” She squeezed my fingers and I squeezed back. Even without my magic wand, I felt stronger standing beside her.

  “Come on! Turn them into pumpkins,” giggled the banshee.

  But Aunt Hemlock shook her head.

  “I think we ought to do something a little more permanent than pumpkins, don’t you?” She lifted her arms to the great green moon. “Brothers and sisters of the Coven,” she bellowed. “I have banished my hopeless niece from this place once before, but she has dared to return and bring a spy with her this time. We cannot let them escape back to the Person World and tell tales of what they have seen.” Her crooked teeth glinted in the moonlight as her lips curled up into a smile.

  Whatever her new plan was, it was something terrible.

  The Coven was silent at last, listening to her every word.

  “We will turn them to stone,” Aunt Hemlock hissed. “They can stand up here on Hag’s Crag for ever as a warning to future spies!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “For ever?” gasped Esme.

  “Yes! For ever,” Aunt Hemlock cackled, muttering under her breath. I heard the words statue and stone and Person and niece.

  The banshee wailed with delight and a werewolf howled at the moon.

  Aunt Hemlock waved her wand and a blast of silvery-grey light shot from the end of it.

  “Duck!” I cried, trying to pull Esme to the ground, but a cloud of shimmering smoke hovered above our heads. All at once, my legs grew stiff.

  The spell was working already.

  It was as if someone had jabbed me with an icy finger. I couldn’t have run away even if there was anywhere to go. My arms felt heavy. The cold air turned colder still.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, squeezing Esme’s hand as tight as I could. The silvery cloud hovered above our heads. Any minute now it would touch us like smoke and we would be turned to stone for ever. There was no escape.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Time seemed to freeze, like the icy air around us. I stood squeezing Esme’s hand and waiting for the cold grey cloud to touch our heads and turn us both to stone.

  At first there was tota
l silence. I kept my eyes tight shut, not daring to look…

  But then I heard the rustle of cloaks and the shuffle of feet, as if the circle of witches and wizards around us had begun to shift and stir impatiently

  “What’s taking so long?” I heard the banshee shout.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. My lids felt heavy and my neck was stiff too, almost as if I was beginning to turn to stone already. Feeling as if I was lifting a great weight on my shoulders, I slowly raised my head. The cloud of stony grey smoke was still hovering above us. Every time it seemed to drop down a little, it rose up again too – as if an invisible force was pushing it away.

  “Esme,” I whispered. “I think something is stopping it from touching our heads.”

  “What’s the matter, Mistress Hemlock? I thought you were going to turn them into statues?” barked Mother Newtbreath.

  “I’m trying!” groaned Aunt Hemlock. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was holding her wand in both hands, trembling as she pointed it at the cloud. She was fighting with all her might to pull the spell down on us. It reminded me of the time Uncle Martin had taken me to the top of Merrymeet Hill to fly our kite. The wind was so strong it nearly blew it away. Uncle Martin had to pull hard, using both of his strong arms to reel the kite back to the ground.

  “Esme!” I whispered. “If the cloud doesn’t touch us, we won’t turn to stone.” In my excitement, I let go of her hand to point upwards.

  Whoosh! The minute Esme’s fingers left mine, the thick grey cloud began to fall.

  “Quick!” I felt a wisp of cold mist across my scalp. “Take my hand again,” I cried. Esme’s fingers grabbed for mine.

  Slowly, her grip began to feel warm against my palm again.

  “Thudding Thunderbolts – it’s us,” I said.

  “We’re stopping the spell. If we hold hands it cannot fall on us.” I turned my head very slowly towards Esme. Already my neck didn’t feel half so stiff.

  “You mean … we’re stronger than a witch’s spell?” Esme grinned, the corners of her mouth struggling to lift and smile. “Thank you, Bella. I knew you’d find a way to save me.”

  “It’s not me, it’s both of us together!” I said. But my heart was racing. It wasn’t over yet. We might be able to hold off the spell for now, but we could barely move and we couldn’t make it disappear.

  Aunt Hemlock was muttering curses under her breath, still struggling with her wand to pull the spell down on us. “What are you doing, Belladonna? Is this some sort of trick?” she hissed.

  “Me?” I raised my chin as much as I could and grinned the sweetest smile I could manage. “I’m not doing anything, Aunt Hemlock,” I said. “After all, I am a hopeless witch.”

  “I can’t understand it!” Her green eyes flashed with fury in the moonlight.

  “I’ll tell you what the beastly brat is doing,” cackled Mother Newtbreath. “She’s making a fool of you. That’s what!”

  “Shut up and help me, then!” cried Aunt Hemlock, still pointing her shaking wand at the cloud above our heads. “Join in my spell and use your power too.”

  “Double magic? Good idea!” A cheer rose up from the other witches as Mother Newtbreath waddled forwards and stood by Aunt Hemlock’s side.

  I squeezed Esme’s hand tighter than ever. “Don’t let go whatever you do!” I warned her.

  It was going to take all our strength to fight the power of two witches.

  But as Mother Newtbreath fumbled for her wand, I saw a flash of stripy fur out of the corner of my eye.

  “Roar!” Rascal leapt into the middle of the circle, snarling and flashing his teeth.

  Mother Newtbreath toppled backwards, dropping her wand in surprise.

  “A tiger!” gasped Esme.

  “Only Rascal!” I whispered as he roared at Aunt Hemlock and bounded towards us.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. “If you hadn’t made that horrible old witch drop her wand, Esme and I would never been able to fight of the power of two spells at once.”

  “What are you waiting for?” cried Rascal. “Run for it!”

  Esme and I both tried to turn and flee, but it was no good. Although Mother Newtbreath was scrabbling about on the ground for her wand, Aunt Hemlock was still holding hers straight at us.

  “Roar!” Rascal bared his teeth and snarled at her. Aunt Hemlock didn’t budge.

  “Pathetic!” she cackled.

  The Coven had recovered from their shock and were giggling at Rascal too.

  “You’re nothing but a little cub!” scoffed Mother Newtbreath, scrambling to her feet.

  “Why does everyone keep calling me little?” spat Rascal.

  But Aunt Hemlock was staring at him through narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t even think you are a tiger,” she sighed. “I’ve seen enough disguises for one day.”

  “Mother Newtbreath,” she called over her shoulder, still keeping her wand trained at Esme and me, “use a discovery spell and find out what this shabby creature really is.”

  The tubby witch picked up her wand from the ground and pointed it at Rascal.

  Give this tiger’s tail a flick

  To see if someone’s playing a trick.

  Poof!

  Like a popped balloon, poor Rascal shrivelled to his real size. He was standing by my feet – a little kitten once again, dressed in the stripy tiger Babygro.

  “Ridiculous!” screamed the banshee.

  The witches and wizards laughed.

  “Look at the ickle cat who thinks he’s so fierce!” teased Mother Newtbreath.

  “Don’t listen to them!” I whispered as Rascal hid between my ankles. “You were as brave as a tiger and that’s what matters!”

  “Oh dear! I feel cold,” he purred. And I realized with horror that he had come beneath the cloud now too.

  “Quick! Wrap your tail around my ankle,” I said, wishing with all my heart that I could bend and pick him up. But I was just too stiff.

  “Brothers and sisters of the Coven,” cackled Aunt Hemlock. “Let’s put an end to this nonsense. Raise your wands with me. Whatever it is that is resisting my spell will be no match for all of us.”

  There was a swift, rustling sound like a flock of bats as every witch, wizard and warlock in the Coven reached for their wands.

  I tried to swallow but my throat felt dry as stone already – as if the spell was working from the inside out. I felt a little ring of warmth around my ankle from Rascal’s tail, and I squeezed Esme’s hand. But even with the three of us here together, we would never be strong enough to fight off the whole Coven.

  A hundred wands were pointing straight towards us.

  Any second now, we would be turned to stone.

  Chapter Twenty

  Esme, Rascal and I stood trapped beneath the stony cloud.

  The witches and wizards began to chant:

  Turn them to stone, through and through.

  A cat and a witch and a Person too.

  Aunt Hemlock took a step towards us.

  “Ready? On the count of three,” she cackled. “One…”

  Every witch and wizard and warlock raised their wand.

  “This statue will be a warning for nosy Persons to keep away from the Magic Realm for good,” hissed Mother Newtbreath.

  “And for little kittens not to get too big for their boots,” giggled Wane.

  “And,” said Aunt Hemlock with a nasty laugh, “a warning to hopeless young witches not to meddle in magic they don’t understand.”

  “I am not hopeless,” I said. But I was. I had lost my wand. Now, because of me, my best friend and my brave pet were going to be turned to stone.

  “Two…” Aunt Hemlock counted. A hundred wands quivered like arrows.

  “Th—” But just then, Hag’s Crag began to shake.

  THUMP! THUD! THUMP!

  The sound of pounding footsteps was coming up the hill.

  “Yo-ho! Bella witchling?” boomed a deep voice. “Tiny-topsy friendlet, are you
near?”

  “Gawpaw!” I cried as the giant troll thundered over the brow of the hill.

  He leapt over the ring of witches and wizards as if they were no more than scratchy thorn bushes on the ground. They scattered like skittles around him.

  “What are you doing here?” I cried.

  “I came to find you! To say sorry Gawpaw was such a jealous-jelly!” he mumbled sheepishly.

  “No! I’m sorry!” I said. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. And you know that even if I make new friends, there’s still room for you.”

  He smiled and crouched down to ruffle Esme’s hair. “Hello, tiny Person Bella pal,” he said.

  “H-hello,” she stammered. “Bella has told me so much about you!”

  “Get out of the way, you great oaf!” roared Aunt Hemlock.

  “Stupid ogre!” cried Mother Newtbreath.

  “He’s not an ogre – he’s a troll. And he’s not stupid either!” I said. I wished I could give him a great big hug, but I knew I mustn’t let go of Esme’s hand or the cloud would fall again, and I was still too stiff to move anyway.

  “No more sulkings. Gawpaw is here to help Bella and pal Esme.” He grinned.

  “Enough!” Aunt Hemlock roared. “If the great lump won’t move, we’ll turn them all to stone. Coven, raise your wands! Third time lucky!”

  The circle closed in again and chanted a fresh curse:

  Turn them to stone, through and through.

  Cat, witch and Person. And troll too.

  “Quickly!” I cried. “Gawpaw, take my hand!” He grabbed it in his massive palm.

  Crash! There was a roll of thunder. A great wave of stone-grey silver light whooshed towards us like a hurricane. I felt cold all over, as if I had been thrown into a bath of ice. I could barely even blink, my eyelids felt so heavy. But still the stony spell did not fall. Even a hundred wands had not turned us into statues yet.

  Gawpaw gave my hand a squeeze.

  “Ouch!” I yelped as he almost broke my fingers. “Not so hard. But whatever you do, don’t let go!”

  Gawpaw squeezed more gently.

  “I think it’s working!” I gasped. “It’s because you joined us, Gawpaw,” I said. “And you too, Rascal.”