ADDERGOOLE PEABODY

Jack was frightened. He was glad he’d closed the window. At least the little man couldn’t get in. Should he call Grandad or try to use his wand? He was unable to move or call out. The little man bared his teeth and shouted. Jack heard his muffled snarl through the window.

‘I’ve come for my gold!’

A sudden movement in the sky made Jack look up. A dark shape with its wings tucked in, twisted and spiralled down towards the window. The little man was making too much noise to notice the attack from above. At the last minute before it crashed into the window the bird levelled out, rapped its beak on the little man’s head then opened its wings and flew into a nearby tree.

‘Camelin!’ exclaimed Jack.

‘Ow!’ the little man screamed and instinctively put his hands on his head to stop the pain.

Jack saw the look of horror in the little man’s eyes when he realised he’d let go of the window ledge. He plummeted out of sight. A great wailing began. Jack knew he’d landed in the holly bush. Grandad must have heard the commotion. With his nose pressed flat on the window he craned his neck but he’d lost sight of the man. Everything went quiet. Jack peered into the darkness to try to find Camelin. He waved his wand to get his attention but sparks began to fly everywhere. As Jack raised his wand the little man was tossed out of the bush and somersaulted in the air. Camelin swooped and chased him in a circle around the lawn. The little man stopped running and looked up. His spindly legs started to shake when he saw Jack open the window. He turned in an instant and ran off at a great speed through the vegetable garden. Camelin flew over to Jack.

‘Put that down before you do any damage.’

Jack put his wand in his left hand. Everything went dark and it took a few moments for is eyes to adjust. Camelin hopped into Jack’s bedroom.

‘I think he was after the acorn. Who is he?’

‘A Bogie.’

‘Ergh, where?’ said Jack, checking his nose.

‘No, he’s a Bogie,’ explained Camelin, nodding in the direction the man had gone.

‘What’s a Bogie?’

‘Someone you should never talk to. They learn all your secrets then trade them for something they want.’

‘I spoke to him in Newton Gill Forest.’

‘I hope you didn’t tell him anything.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘That’s good,’ laughed Camelin, ‘because I’ve just told him you’re a great wizard and if he comes here again you’ll turn him into a Brownie.’

‘But… I’m not a great wizard.’

‘He doesn’t know that; he didn’t like what you did to him with your wand.’

Jack realised his hands were trembling and he was glad his wand was safely in his left hand.

‘What’s a Brownie?’

‘Don’t you know anything? A Brownie is about the same size as a Bogie but the complete opposite. They’re helpful and kind and have tiny noses.’

‘So why was the Bogie afraid?’

‘Bogie’s are very proud of their long noses. The longer it is, the more important they think they are.’

‘Do you know who he is? Does he have a name?’

‘Oh yes, he’s got a name. Addergoole Peabody. A nasty, mean, sneaky, thieving Bogie.’

Jack took the bent feather off the table.

‘I found this in my room earlier. I think he must have been in while I was having dinner. My rucksack was ripped and my things had been moved.’

‘That’s why Elan told you to keep the window closed.’

Jack didn’t mention he’d suspected it had been Camelin who’d been through his things.

‘That’s one of my feathers you know. Sneaked up on me and pinched it when I wasn’t looking. Ripped it right out of my tail. I’ve been wanting to get my own back on him for ages.’

‘There was a break-in at the Cricket Club. Was that him too? They thought I’d stolen the tea money.’

‘Probably. He’s been breaking into lots of places and stealing things.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Nora’s been getting reports from the Night Guard for a while now about things going missing.’

‘Night Guard?’

‘They’re like security guards. Of course they’re under my command. I give them their orders.’

Jack wondered who the Night Guard could be. He watched Camelin lean out of the window and give a long, low whistle. It was answered immediately by a short, shrill sound.

‘Come up. It’s OK,’ he whispered into the darkness below.

It wasn’t long before a brown, furry face appeared at the window. The creature hopped nimbly into Jack’s room and leapt onto the table. It stood on its hind legs balancing gracefully on its large feet. Its long tail trailed behind.

‘It’s a rat!’ exclaimed Jack.

‘It’s no ordinary rat. This is Motley.’

The rat tipped his head onto one side and bent slightly forwards. His nose and whiskers twitched several times before he began squeaking rapidly. Camelin listened and nodded as he followed Motley’s conversation.

‘Why can’t I understand him?’

‘Because you’re not a raven. Put your wand back in your other hand. You’ll be able to understand him then.’

The room lit up as Jack moved the wand.

‘Not so bright… not so bright if you don’t mind,’ complained Motley. ‘Can’t you turn it down a bit? Cut the dazzle.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s new. I haven’t got used to it yet.’

‘Just think about something dark,’ Camelin advised.

Jack remembered the gloom of Newton Gill Forest and immediately his wand dimmed to a pale glow.

‘Not bad,’ said Motley. ‘A natural.’

‘Beginner’s luck,’ Camelin grumped.

Motley didn’t take any notice of Camelin and gave Jack an encouraging nod.

‘Back to important matters… my report… we’ve sent Peabody packing or, rather, you did Jack when you tossed him out of the bush with your wand… the Night Guard were following him to see where he’d holed up…’

‘I know where he’s been,’ interrupted Jack.

Camelin and Motley looked surprised.

‘He said the Gnori in Newton Gill Forest was his tree now, if that’s any help.’

‘Nora won’t be pleased,’ said Camelin.

‘Dead wood don’t talk,’ explained Motley.

‘You mean he’s in the dead wood so nobody knows he’s there?’

‘Spot on,’ confirmed Motley and Camelin together.

Motley began pacing up and down on the table before he spoke again.

‘Camelin… go and stop the Night Guard… that Forest’s not a good place to be after dark… I’ll report back to Nora… she needs to know what’s happened.’

Camelin gave an embarrassed cough. It was obvious to Jack who was really in charge.

‘Meet you back at headquarters,’ announced Motley.

‘Yes, OK. See you later,’ Camelin agreed before flying off in the direction of Newton Gill Forest.

‘Can’t stand around talking all night… got responsibilities… rounds to be done.’

Motley leapt nimbly onto the window ledge.

‘Thanks,’ replied Jack, because he didn’t know what else to say.

‘Don’t forget to close the window,’ Motley squeaked as he scampered down the thick ivy that grew everywhere on the walls of Grandad’s house.

Jack made doubly sure the latch was down on the window before putting his wand on the table. He felt very tired as he climbed back into bed but he lay awake for ages, too excited to sleep.

It was nearly one o’clock the following afternoon when Jack eventually woke up. He’d heard Grandad shouting upstairs to say he’d left Jack’s breakfast on the table but that was hours ago. He drew the curtain a fraction. Grandad was still busy in the vegetable garden. If he hurried up he could get downstairs and clear away the breakfast things before Grandad came back in. He didn’t want him to know he’d overslept. He was curious to know if anything else had happened. He checked his Book of Shadows; there were no messages.

As soon as Jack got downstairs he quickly put the breakfast things away. He was closing the pantry door when Grandad came into the kitchen.

‘That’s a good lad. You’ve washed up and put everything away.’

‘Is it lunch time now?’

‘I should say. I’ve worked up quite an appetite this morning. There must have been a fox in the garden last night. It’s bashed all my spring onions down. It’s taken me ages to sort them out.’

Jack knew exactly who’d been in Grandad’s garden but couldn’t tell him.

‘Are you off to Ewell House this afternoon?’

‘Yes, if that’s alright. I’ve been invited.’

After they’d eaten Grandad got up and took an envelope from the mantelpiece. ‘I nearly forgot. This came for you this morning.’

Grandad handed the envelope to Jack. He thought it might have come from his Dad but it didn’t have a stamp. There was a card inside.

‘It’s from Elan. She’s having a party on Friday night. There’s a note in here for you too.’

Grandad took the note from Jack.

‘Nora’s inviting you to stay for the weekend. Now you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’

‘I think I’d like to go,’ Jack said after he’d pretended to think about it for a while.

‘Will you need a present?’

‘It just says a party. It doesn’t say it’s her birthday.’

‘I’ll make up a bouquet of flowers for you. I bet she’ll like some Lily of the Valley. I’ve got pink ones as well as white.’

Jack thanked his Grandad and went back upstairs. This time his room was as he’d left it; nothing had been disturbed. Before he was ready to leave he wet his comb and tried to make his hair sit down. It didn’t.

Grandad was back in the garden.

‘I’m off now,’ Jack called as he made his way towards the gap in the hedge.

Nora and Elan were sitting at the kitchen table making cheese sandwiches when Jack arrived.

‘Isn’t Camelin here?’

‘Still in bed. He had rather a late night,’ laughed Nora. ‘Motley tells me you gave our Bogie quite a fright.’

‘I didn’t mean to; it just happened.’

‘No harm done. It will do him good to have something to think about. As a precaution I’ve doubled the Night Guard. If anything so much as moves beyond the hedge we’ll know about it.’

Jack was still worried about Peabody going through his belongings.

‘I think he was looking for the acorn. He said he wanted gold.’

‘All Bogies want gold,’ laughed Nora. ‘He probably thought you were an easy target; he got more than he bargained for.’

‘But how did he know I had any gold?’

‘He probably didn’t, but I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again in a hurry.’

Jack hoped Nora was right.

‘Thanks for the invitation.’

‘Are you going to accept?’ Nora asked.

Jack nodded.

‘How did you get on with the list of questions I gave you?’

‘All done.’

‘That’s good because I’ve got some words for you to learn for the ritual.’

Jack took the paper and read the words aloud…

A feather from a raven’s wing,

This is the token I do bring.

As sunrise lights the darkened sky,

Transform me so that I can fly.

‘You’ll need to be word perfect,’ said Nora.

‘I will be,’ Jack assured her.

‘These sandwiches are for Camelin,’ explained Elan.

‘All of them?’ exclaimed Jack.

‘He’s very partial to cheese and Nora needs one of his wing feathers for the ritual. We’re going to try to persuade him to make the right decision.’

There was a familiar caw as Camelin swooped into the kitchen.

‘They smell good.’

‘They do,’ said Nora without looking up. ‘They’re for Jack.’

‘All of them?’ exclaimed Camelin.

‘He missed his breakfast,’ Nora replied.

Camelin gulped and looked longingly at the pile of sandwiches.

‘So did I, and I haven’t had any lunch either.’

Nora looked at Camelin and Jack.

‘You both realise how important this ritual is don’t you? We only have the one chance to get everything right.’

They both nodded.

‘I can’t wait to see Jack as a raven,’ chuckled Camelin without taking his eyes off the plate.

‘We’re going to need one of your feathers.’

‘A feather!’ he squawked. ‘Don’t you know how precious feathers are? I’d be naked without any feathers!’

‘We only need one,’ said Nora persuasively.

‘I don’t want to pluck out any of my feathers. It hurts and I’d feel very faint. I’d need a great deal of food to help me feel better.’

‘Maybe you could have one of Jack’s sandwiches.’

‘I’d need more than one.’

‘It would need to be a wing feather so he’ll be able to fly.’

‘A wing feather! I’d need a whole plate of sandwiches to help me recover from losing one of those!’

‘I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind.’

Jack was trying not to laugh.

‘That’s fine,’ he managed to say in a very wobbly voice.

Camelin didn’t waste any more time in negotiations.

‘Ouch!’ he yelled as he plucked out one of his wing feathers then staggered dramatically around the table. ‘Oh! I feel so dizzy!’

Nora put the whole plate of cheese sandwiches next to him and took the feather. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I hope the sandwiches help.’

‘They will!’

Nora held the wing feather up and examined it.

‘Perfect. This will do nicely,’ she said to herself before turning to Jack and Elan. ‘We’ll leave Camelin to recover and go down to the library.’

She set off clutching the feather; they followed her down the long passage. As she opened one of the doors Jack gasped. He’d never seen a room like this before. It was full of bookshelves, each one filled with hand-made books.

‘Nora made all of these,’ whispered Elan.

Jack was speechless. He watched Nora open one of the volumes and put the feather safely inside.

‘That’s the book Nora needs for the ritual.’

‘What happened to the cauldron plates? How did they get lost?’ asked Jack.

Elan looked at Nora. Jack felt he’d said something wrong.

‘Am I allowed to know?’

‘You are, but I would rather Camelin told you. It’s his story and he’s taken responsibility for the loss but it really wasn’t his fault,’ explained Nora.

‘He blames himself for all of our problems,’ continued Elan.

‘But why, if it wasn’t his fault?’

‘Camelin will have to answer that question,’ replied Nora. ‘Once he trusts you he’ll tell you. Now, how about a bit of wand practice?’

Jack nodded. It was certainly something he needed.

‘I’ve put a bucket of sand in the garden, just to be on the safe side,’ laughed Nora.

They went through the kitchen. Camelin was nowhere to be seen. Neither were any of the cheese sandwiches.

‘He’ll be sleeping that lot off,’ said Elan. ‘He’ll not be down again until supper time.’

‘He knows you’re going to be using your wand this afternoon so he definitely won’t come down,’ chuckled Nora.

Jack saw the bucket by the bird-table once they were in the garden.

‘Watch,’ said Nora as she took her wand.

The gnarled wood became smooth. Even in the sunlight Jack could see the tip glowing.

‘When you take aim try and concentrate. Gather the sparks into a ball then send it towards the bucket… like this.’

There was a blue flash from the end of Nora’s wand. A small ball of light sped towards the bucket; as it landed in the sand it went out. Nora turned to Jack and smiled encouragingly.

‘Now you try.’

Sparks flew again around the tip of Jack’s wand but they weren’t as erratic as they had been. He stared at the crackling explosions and brought them together at the tip.

‘That’s really good. Try to project it,’ urged Elan.

There was a splutter of laughter from above. Jack knew Camelin was watching from the loft. He was determined to show him he could control the wand. He took a deep breath, aimed and fired. The ball of light sped towards the bucket. A great flash and a loud crack told Jack he’d missed his target. The bird-table rocked, then creaked before it broke in two.

‘A natural,’ croaked Camelin sarcastically.

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘It’s not a problem. I’ll mend it when you’ve finished. Camelin will be pleased; he hates the other birds feeding in the garden. Why don’t you stay and practice for a while.’

Jack’s next few attempts weren’t any better than his first. The hardest part was concentrating the sparks into just one ball of light. One spark nearly singed his hair as it escaped from the ball he was trying to make. Another shot high into the air and narrowly missed a starling’s tail. The ball of light travelled so fast the poor bird had to flap his wings frantically to escape. Jack could hear Camelin chuckling from the loft.

After half an hour Jack was able to fire a ball of sparks into the bucket… most of the time. He went back to the kitchen to say goodbye to Nora and Elan.

‘I don’t think I’ve done any more damage. I’m really sorry about the bird table.’

Nora raised her wand and pointed it in the direction of the garden. Green sparks flew out of the patio door.

‘There, that’s sorted the bird table out. We’ll see you on Friday. Learn your words and remember, you need to be perfect for the ritual.’

‘I will. I promise,’ said Jack as he waved goodbye.

Jack looked towards Camelin’s loft. He couldn’t see him but he could still hear him laughing. Learning the words wouldn’t be a problem; wanting to be a raven was. By Saturday morning if he didn’t want to transform with all his heart it wasn’t going to happen.

That night Jack lay awake worrying.