Avis Blackthorn and the Magical Multicolour Jumper (The Wizard Magic School Series, Book 2) (16 page)

The sun beat down hot golden rays, tingling my skin. Robin, Hunter and I wandered aimlessly in no particular direction. Robin said it reminded him of a
car boot sale
to which Hunter disagreed and said it was far better, for this was magical. Long extendable tables were crowded with things—all magical. Each table and stall was different, some had a billowing drape roof, others selling things out of the back of a wooden cart. One witch was selling things inside her carriage, I pulled Hunter back as she beckoned us forwards, shaking my head at him slowly. God knows what was inside. The stuff available was too numerous to mention in its entirety, but each stall had a theme. One sold charmed cauldron’s that stirred your potions, another sold hexed gifts for enemies (I considered purchasing two), there was an animal foot talisman stall, a witch selling charmed chains that captured a ghost (making it your slave), a breast pocket bookcase stall, a caravan of magical creature’s available for purchase, a magical clothing stall where the clothes shrunk or grew to match your size and a charmed mug stall that always kept your drink topped up. And that was just a snapshot. Hundred’s of bric a brac stalls of varying, dizzying array with opportunistic looking owners littered the walk. Some looked perfectly pleasant, while others looked downright dodgy.

My heart nearly melted when I saw the magical creatures. I had a soft spot for animals, and the ones in these cages looked sad. There were three small monkeys, sitting quietly, picking each others fur. There was a dog looking glum under a table. Four cats, meowing at us, as if screaming for us to please release them from their cages. Some sprats in a cage, ten krede hoppers in a water tank, some talking turtles which sat in silence, two chameleons whom were bight orange, contrasting with their grey, sludge filled tank.

“Think they’re trying to make themselves
seen
,” Robin whispered. “So that we take them home?”

“What dya’ want? Wan’ me to cage a couple up for ya?” said a fat, grubby man.

I shook my head and shuffled backwards. “No, no, just looking, thank you.”

“All right,” he said affronted. “But this aint no zoo—it’s a shop.”

Robin and I left feeling terrible, those poor animals looked so unhappy and I couldn't do a thing about it. Neither Robin nor I had anywhere near enough gold to buy them all.

The tents grew in size. Large colourful, billowing tents spread out in no particular order with large signs outside reading: ‘
Rupert Greers Hypno-Magical presentation, starts at 5.43pm. Be prepared to be hypno-ed!’
Some of the tents had presentations and shows, some had talks with famous Wizards, Witches and Warlocks (some had books to plug), all talking about a different subject to do with magic. Surrounding these large tents were smaller one’s selling sweet smelling food that drew Hunter towards them like a magnet.

We sat on the hillside over looking the carnival. Hunter was moaning and rubbing his feet, while stuffing his face with a pie, then a chocolate eclair, then a Dandy Sandwich. As night drew in, the carnival buzzed with a close, electric vibe. Robin, Hunter and I joined Graham, Simon and Dawn outside a tent and went on to watch several shows. Some were great, others were awful — Jake bought a bottle of mango perry and shared it round, easing our aching muscles nicely. The first show we watched was presented by a tall woman going by the name of Eliza Buckleworth who raised a demon inside a glass cage, it was truly terrifying, Hunter covered his face. Then, Eliza vanquished the demon, and it shrunk back into the ground — followed by a round of applause. As we left I saw Straker in conversation with my brother Harold at the back of the tent, I knew they would be pals.

The sleep in the tent that night was the most uncomfortable I’ve ever had. The camp beds, were more than old. It almost disintegrated as I got in. Loud squeals echoed whenever anyone moved, and my feet were wet as the carpet next to the beds was soaking. Loud music thumped rhythmically, causing the tent to shake. I was so tired. When did the festival finish? When did everyone go to bed? Graham had shoved two socks in his ears, a practice which most of us followed. I wish we had a good tent, one that blocked out noise. The lights from the carnival were frighteningly bright, the tent material might as well of been see through. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to block it out.

—
“That Hummingbird man was awesome.”

— “Yeah, he was really something…
”
said two voices coming into the tent.

“
Shhhhh
!” Hunter cried. “People are trying to sleep!” he lay back down gruffly, the camp bed gave a squeak before he fell through it again.

***

That
morning I woke to pure, blissful silence. The only sound that filled the air was the snores that reverberated softly around the tent. Cold air swept through my clothes as I slipped out of bed and put my shoes on. The tent was stuffy, I needed to get out. The sun shone bright over the hills. I breathed in the clear, fresh air. A wonderful smell of bacon leapt under my nose — breakfast. I began to walk through the muddy bog towards the smell.

“Can I have one of those please,” I said to the woman, she was short and fat with greasy blonde-ish hair.

She sniffed sleepily and rubbed her eyes. “Of course me dear,” I licked my lips as she stacked a roll with crispy bacon.
Hmm
, yummy. The small white food cart stood near the large presentation tents, just past all the stalls which were just setting up. I stood and watched them putting up their tables, some with magic, some not. Then most proceeded to lay out their produce, before taking a seat and snoozing.

“Here you go ma’ dear…” I thanked the ugly woman, paid her a quarter gold coin and bit into what was, the best bacon roll I’ve ever had. Slowly I mooched between the stalls, I was the only one around. The air was fresh, the grass crisp and bouncy and they sky clear. Large black and white creatures I’d never seen before were munching grass on the hillside. As I walked slowly, finishing my roll, I had time to think about Jasper and Tina, I mean I tried not to but it was like they were set to default in my mind. I just couldn't get my head around it. Something about Jasper irked me. There was a connection, I was sure, between the beloved-by-all Jasper and the short ragged thing that was after me. I just couldn't piece it together.

“Come and get ya’ trinkets and antiques!” bellowed a loud course voice, barely an inch from my ear. I jumped back and glared up at the man who didn't seem to have realised someone was walking past him. Idiot.

I nosed around the bric a brac stalls. I had enough gold left for something amusing, but that was about it. One stall was set out just away from the rest, on a large ornate oak table, next to a purple carriage. Over the table bloomed thick velvet purple drapes with golden tassels. It was intriguing. A middle aged woman, who looked like she was once beautiful, stepped out of the carriage carefully, for her purple dress was long. She noticed me and smiled sweetly as she set about arranging her things. The things looked no different to the hundreds of other pre-loved trinkets. But she treated them all with upmost care, placing each item softly in its place on the velvet cover. She didn't say anything as I stood. The table wasn't crammed like the others, everything had a place. A row of golden rings to the left of the table, stood next to a circle of black and silver pendants.

“So what are all these things?” I said softly.

The woman placed an ornate silver tea pot down. “These are all rare items that my father collected over many years,” said the woman in a soft, sickly sweet voice. “Each item has a unique quality. And yet…” she stood up straight and smiled. “I have no idea what. He died before he could test them all and I am not proficient in his magic to be able to fulfil his work. So, I must sell them as seen. Could be cursed for all I know,” she shrugged, a strain of sadness behind her eyes.

“I see. Like a lucky dip then,” I said, but she didn't smile. “I was joking.”

“Oh I get it, yes, like a lucky dip…” she laughed, but it sounded forced.

And then I saw something that looked… familiar. Behind the woman in a box of things she was unwrapping was some sort of ornament. Except, it had a mark on it that looked exactly the same as the one on my channeller. I pulled my pendant out and glanced at it quickly — it was definitely the same mark. How strange. Now, I know nothing about runes or ancient markings, but I do know about following hunches. And there was something about that ornament that made me want it.

“What is that?” I said pointing at it.

She reached round and picked it up, pulling the rest of the paper off and handing it to me. “Just an incense holder. Nothing special, I don't think.” This incense holder was a cold golden metal. It was shaped oddly—like a tall, cylindrical lamp, with a small hole in the top. It was black with dirt, but on the side was that mark, the black indented squiggle.

I swallowed. “How much?”

“Oh, I can’t sell to children dearest, I’ll get in trouble,” she said looking pained. I sighed and went to put it back, but saw her eyes flash with regret. I glanced upwards at her unkempt hair, her hand washed dress and shaggy carriage. On a hunch, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my last three gold coins.

“Will this do?” I held my hand with the gold coins towards her. Her arm jerked towards the gold coins, but then stopped. She looked around quickly, eyes darting.

“Fine,” she said, snatching the gold. “Here, let me wrap that thing up at least.” I thanked her, clutched my paper parcel and moved away.

“You know your not supposed to walk around on your own?” came a sly voice behind me. I jumped back, clutching my chest. Harold, my eldest brother stood with one eyebrow raised, eyeing me inquisitively.

“You scared me!” I said. “I know we’re not, but… anyway what do
you
want?”

“Nothing. I am merely commenting on your attention to the rules of this visit. What do you have in that paper bag?” he said suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing to do with you. Anyway, why are you teaching at the school? Mother and father want you to keep tabs on me? Make sure I don't
embarrass the family
?”

“Not quite. I am afraid that not everything in this world is about
you
. As much as you’d like it to.”

I swallowed at his cutting remark. “What are you are doing, working at the school then?”

Harold smiled. “I thought I was the one questioning you?” he smiled his perfect white grin. “All this sneaking around, getting caught in the Library, attempting to murder a form mate. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

“I am nothing like you—”

But he wasn't listening, he had shot away with a flash of his black coat. “We
might
make a Blackthorn of you yet,” his voice said, magically carrying on from where he had stood.

I rejoined everyone in the tent as they were all getting up, hiding my ornament in my bag and moving along with them for a day of fun activities.

***

We sat eating a late lunch on the hillside with the cracking view across the entire carnival. The girls were lying in the thick grass, eyes closed, soaking up the illustrious Happendance sun.

“We didn't come all ‘de way to ‘dis amazing carnival to do sunbathing,” said Jake.

Florence smiled. “Oh it’s not for long grumpy pants. We’re just enjoying being free of some responsibilities at last!”

Dawn was stroking one of the large black and white things, called c
ows
apparently, and Joanna was platting Ellen’s hair while she read a new book that she’d bought. She was a more voracious reader than me and Robin put together.

“No way!” said Simon pointing across the fields.

We all looked round. “What?” said Gret craning her neck to see.

Simon pointed frantically. “It’s the Lily. Over there! I didn't think he was coming?”

“That’s not the Lily,” said Robin peering. “He’s just dressed like the Lily? Why is he dressed like the Lily?”

“Perhaps he’s impersonating him,” said Hunter.

Graham rubbed his cheek, “That’s illegal isn't it?”

“No…” said Grettle as if she couldn’t believe how stupid we were. “Are you guys total morons?” she spluttered as Ellen laughed too. “That is just
another Lily?
”

Ellen put her book down and turned to us. “Someone is called a Lily if they reach the last five levels of magic. It is said that on those last five levels you become
pure of heart
. It becomes a ceremony, and you are
en-gowned
with the white robes and your title.”

Dawn didn't seem convinced. “What, so there is more than one Lily?”

“Well yeah!” said Gret.

“I never knew ‘dis,” said Jake looking curiously at his sister.

As
the sun began to set that night, our form went different ways, all wanting to watch different things. Robin, Dennis, Joanna and I went into a tent where a man was demonstrating raising a discarnate spirit from a cursed slipper. It was all rather exciting, as he recited the incantation and the slipper began darting around the room. Until, we were escorted out of the tent by a guard who pointed to a sign which read: “
P.W.W’s only.” —
Professional Working Wizard’s that meant.

“What can we go and watch now? All the shows have started?” I moaned.

“I know,” said Robin. “What about that over there?
A talk with Hummingbird?”

“Hummingbird? That rings a bell, think some of the others went to see him yesterday. Come on.”

As we entered the small tent the first thing that hit us was the smell. A choking, burning smell went right up my nostrils and down the back of my throat, causing me to choke.

“Its good to CHOKE!” called a loud voice through the thick smoky haze. I could just about see an outline of a figure sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor. “Come in boys, come in. Take a seat.” There was a smattering of people already in here, sitting cross legged on thick carpets around the man. “You must surrender to the incense, it’s clearing your mind.” The smoke was so thick the only thing I could think about was not choking to death. Through the haze the man slowly came into focus. Thick long hair hung past his shoulders across a bright purple and turquoise jacket, which, if it were not so dimly lit in here, would have been blinding me with colour. He grinned a wide toothy grin which shined white through the haze. He was unutterably in control, power and confidence seemed to exude from his every pore. His face was round and body wide, but sat with the flexibility of a cat — legs crossed impossibly tight, he seemed to hang just above the carpet on a thin layer of air exuding personality and charisma.

“You are not late. I was waiting for you,” he nodded slowly. “My name is Hummingbird, I am a Golandrian. Many of you may have already read about me — I ask you to forget that fiction and concentrate with all your might on the here and now. Make yourself fully present.” He closed his eyes for a second. But then, another face of his appeared translucent next to him, the eyes opening. A full second body slowly materialised downwards from the neck until the exact same man sat cross legged, eyes open, next to himself.

“To clear your mind we must close our eyes,” I followed along, closing them. “You can see darkness, but still life persists in visions flashing upon that dark screen at the back of your eye lids. Like an annoying screen you cannot switch off. I need not tell you how important in magic it is to
clear your mind
. Now, when a thought enters, recognise it, but then watch it shrivel and fall away like a browning leaf.”

I watched the lights dance in front of my eyes, thought after thought burst across my vision as I followed Hummingbirds soft voice. The vision of the mark on my pendant drifted through to me, and the mark on the ornament I’d bought earlier. They hung there persistently, my brain itched — then Hummingbird spoke again. “
Everything
, must be forgotten.”

When I awoke, I felt completely at ease. I wasn't sure how long I’d been asleep for. Usually I would be panicking, worried if I had been snoring, but I felt good. “Are we all awake?” he said. “Illusions are powerful magic. Only the best are conjured with a clear mind. Practicing visualisation daily will help. I want you to picture something in your mind and we will make it appear in front of us.”

Hummingbird closed his eyes. A second later we were sitting in the middle of a desert. Hot sun blazed overhead, I blinked and shielded my eyes. Soft sand lay underneath, as tall dunes stretched off far into the horizon. Tall palm trees the only visible life. But it was hot, so very hot… moans from everyone in the circle echoed as we tried to shield ourselves from the scorching sun. A second later and we were back in the cool tent. “A good illusion can trick the mind into anything it wants…”

After a lengthy explanation of how to make the vision in our mind come out, we set about one by one making them appear in the middle of the circle. “So remember, visualise, feel, see, project. You first.” The first person in the circle who I couldn't see through the smoke shuffled for a second. Then, in the middle of the circle a tiny vision of a green front door appeared. It was translucent and it kept flickering — “That’s it, keep it fresh in your mind. Wonderful stuff.”

The next person made a fist, which knocked on the door. Then both vanished. Hummingbird then pointed to Robin who made a funny nervous sound before closing his eyes. “Visualise, feel, see, project…” came Hummingbird’s soft voice.

A soft, hazy vision of green hills started to take shape in the air above us. Then slowly it grew in detail. Grass began to swoosh, stone walls began to build and yellow buttercups sprung up through the grass. Robin opened his eyes and smiled. “Yorkshire Dales…”

“Very good,” said Hummingbird impressed. “You next…” he pointed across the circle at someone, peering through the haze I suddenly realised who it was. Jasper! He was sitting cross legged next to Tina. He closed his eyes, grinning. A bubble of fury popped in my stomach. Trust us to come in here when they were. Tina will think I am following her now! A hundred perfect red hearts floated up from the ground, before spinning round into a long, perfectly detailed rose.

“Well I say,” said Hummingbird, his face lit up red from the light of the rose. “That’s quite something.”

Jasper turned to Tina. “For you.”

“You next,” said Hummingbird smiling at me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated as much as possible, trying to clear my mind. But the rose still hung in the air, Jasper thought he was so clever. I visualised as hard a possible. I envisioned fire — opening my eyes, I watched the flames erupt into being, burning the rose to ash.

“That’s certainly one way of doing it,” said Hummingbird as Jasper glared at me through the haze.