“What does it say?” Maria asked, trying to peer over Clara’s shoulder.
“I don’t believe it!” Clara said thrusting the sheet of paper into Maria’s hands. “I’ve never heard such rubbish!”
Maria scanned the letter and then looked at Clara doubtfully. “It might work,” she offered. “They are magicians, after all. They wouldn’t ask you to drink anything that would harm you …”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m not going to drink it. A magic potion!” she snapped scornfully. “I bet it would taste foul!” With that, she stomped over to the bed and, pulling a blanket over her head, started to cry.
Maria looked at the paper, looked at Clara and heaved a sigh as she turned once more to the window where Amgarad did his balancing act against the window sill.
“She’s not happy about it, Amgarad,” she said, pressing her face to the opening.
Clara then threw the blanket to one side, rushed over and, ignoring the icy wind, pushed Maria to one side. “I just don’t like the idea, Amgarad,” she shouted. “It’s … it’s like something out of Alice in Wonderland! I don’t want to be a couple of inches high! Whose idea was it?”
“Clara! It’s the only way,” Amgarad said firmly. “Once you become small, Maria will lift you up to the window so that you’ll be able to merge with me.” His claws scraped and scrabbled on the sill. “Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan are working on it now.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted tearfully.
“Clara, please do as the letter says,” Amgarad pleaded. “It’s the only way to get you out of this dreadful place.”
Clara didn’t reply.
“I’ll come with the bottle tomorrow morning,” he added, his black eyes looking at her sharply. Her face looked thin and strained. Being shut up in the tower was telling on her, he thought grimly.
Clara shook her head despairingly and turned away from the window.
“I’ll try to persuade her,” Maria said, taking her place. “Please come tomorrow, Amgarad. The cold in here is terrible. We can’t stand it for much longer.”
The wind blew the little bottle through the slit and Amgarad, watching it anxiously, sighed with relief as Maria stretched out her hand and picked it up.
She stepped back, turning it over in her hand. The bottle was dark green, made from funny, swirly glass and had a little cork stopper. The white label had writing on it.
“What does the label say?” Clara asked sulkily. “I bet it says ‘Drink Me!’”
Maria looked at her nervously. Now that she held the magic potion, she felt quite nervous. “Actually, it says, ‘Clara, please drink this.’ and it’s signed ‘Lord Rothlan.’”
Clara sniffed and held her hand out for the bottle.
Maria gave it to her nervously. “Be careful,” she warned. “Don’t drop it, for goodness sake!”
“I’m not going to drop it!” Clara answered stiffly.
“Please drink it, Clara,” Maria urged. “Just think, in a few minutes you’ll have left this place behind and Amgarad will take you to your friends.”
Tears clouded Clara’s eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Scared of being … just a few inches high.”
“Don’t think about it!” Maria advised. “Just be sensible. The magicians are your friends. They wouldn’t harm you … you know that!”
Clara nodded.
“I’ll be very careful when I … when I pick you up,” Maria promised.
Clara shuddered at the thought.
“Why don’t you smell the stuff inside,” Maria suggested. “It mightn’t taste all that bad.”
Clara pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. She knew Amgarad was waiting outside. Well, she thought, here goes! With trembling fingers she carefully prised the little cork from the neck of the bottle and sniffed the magic potion. It smelt of oranges.
“Here,” she held out the bottle to Maria. “Smell it! Orange flavour,” her voice trembled as she tried to make a feeble joke. “Whoever heard of magic potions smelling of oranges!”
“It smells okay,” Maria smiled in relief. “Not bad at all!”
Clara hesitated. “Where are the clothes I was wearing when we first arrived, Maria?” she asked. “I want to put them on.”
Maria frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, surely,” she protested.
“Yes, it does,” Clara said stubbornly, thinking of the four spells that still nestled in the pocket of her black jacket. So much had happened that she’d almost forgotten them! She took a deep breath and, stoppering the bottle, laid it carefully on the bed, knowing she was going to have to drink the magic brew — for if Arthur was going to face Lord Jezail, then she had to be there to help him. She only hoped that she’d get a chance to use the spells; otherwise Arthur might well die. And that, she thought, didn’t bear thinking about.
Maria sighed and walking swiftly over to one of the cases, drew out Clara’s jeans and top.
“And the black jacket you bought me,” Clara added, struggling out of the red dress and reaching for her top.
“There, now,” Maria said when she’d finished dressing. “Just fasten the buttons of the jacket and you’ll be ready to go.”
Clara picked the little bottle up and looked at it again, her heart sinking. She had to drink it, she supposed. There was no other way. It was the sound of Amgarad’s claws on the windowsill that made her decide and before she could think of changing her mind, she took the cork out, threw her head back and tipped the entire contents of the bottle down her throat.
Maria gasped and watched in amazement as Clara started to shrink … and shrink … and shrink. A terrible fear gripped her as she wondered what would happen if Clara just shrank away to nothing …
Clara shut her eyes as she felt herself growing smaller. It was a strange sensation but not unpleasant. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. The frightening bit was when she opened her eyes and saw Maria’s shoes looming large on her horizon! Very large! She gulped. How tall was she? Two inches high? Three?
Maria looked down and saw the tiny figure at her feet. Very carefully, she knelt down and held out her hand so that Clara could jump on it. She didn’t dare pick her up with her fingers in case she pressed too hard and squashed her!
Reaching the windowsill, she stopped in horror. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The wind, whistling through the narrow opening had been of no account when Clara was her normal size but to a child of three inches and a bit, it was a veritable hurricane! She wouldn’t be able to keep her feet.
Amgarad, however, saw the problem and, jamming his body against the slit window, blocked the wind. Maria stretched her hand through the opening as far as it would go and watched as Clara’s tiny figure ran towards the eagle. Then she stopped abruptly, spreading her arms out as though a pane of glass was stopping her from going any further.
Amgarad’s heart sank. He knew immediately what had happened. Lord Jezail hadn’t taken any chances. He’d put a protective shield round the tower! She still couldn’t reach him.
Clara sank to her knees, sobbing bitterly in disappointment. She, too, realized what had happened and barely felt Maria’s fingers as they lifted her gently back into the tower room. What was she going to do now?
Maria, however, had her own ideas. She stuck her head into the slit window and spoke rapidly to Amgarad. “Don’t go away,” she said briefly. “I’ll see if I can take her outside.” And with that, she put Clara carefully into one of the pockets of her cloak and moving towards the door, rapped on it sharply.
The sentry opened it immediately. “I’d like to talk to Major Strelitz,” she said.
He stepped aside at once and let her through. The girl, he thought, must be asleep under the pile of blankets heaped on the bed. He shut and locked the door again as Maria set off down the winding spiral stair to the great hall of the castle.
Clara, crouched in the warm pocket of her cloak, heard what Maria had said and hoped frantically that her plan would work. She was also more than a bit nervous that she might grow back to her normal size. How long, she wondered, would the magic potion last?
The hall was more or less empty when Maria reached it. The few soldiers there paid little attention to her. They all knew that she wasn’t a prisoner and many of them had wondered how long she would stay in the tower with the girl before giving herself a break.
Maria nodded to them and strolled as casually as she could, out of the main door, feeling the warmth of the thin morning sunlight on her face. After a few minutes, she crossed the courtyard to the drawbridge and waved smilingly to the guard who nodded and waved back.
“I’m crossing the moat now,” she said aloud so that Clara could hear. “There’s no one near me and … and Clara, there doesn’t seem to be a protective shield here at all.”
Looking round, as though undecided which direction to take, she sauntered round to the right and stopping every now and then to admire the view, was soon out of sight of the guard.
It was then that Amgarad flew down. Maria gathered Clara out of her pocket and watched as, arms outstretched, Clara reached into Amgarad’s feathers and merged into the bird.
Amgarad’s bright eyes thanked Maria. He bowed his head very low and then, with a flap of his wings, rose into the air and headed straight for Trollsberg, his heart as light as the sparkling morning air.