Halloween Havoc by Lou Kuenzler

Author:Lou Kuenzler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 2016-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

My hand was shaking as I poked my wand through the open window at the back of the cave.

“We’ve got to save Esme,” I whispered as Rascal perched on my shoulder.

With a flick of my wrist, I muttered the curse I had been practising inside my head:

Make pumpkins out of

Aunt Hemlock and Wane

So I can set Esme free again…

POW! A jet of bright orange light shot out of the end of my wand and…

Rascal and I flew backwards through the air. It was like being punched in the stomach with a jolt of red-hot lighting. We tumbled over and over until—

Splat! We landed in a soggy heap right in the middle of the marshy bog.

“MEW!” squealed Rascal, leaping on to my lap as if it was a lifeboat. “What did you do that for?”

“It was an accident!” I trembled. “The spell backfired!”

I should have remembered: there is a powerful magic ring around Aunt Hemlock’s cave. She drew it there to make sure no stray spells from other witches and wizards could ever get inside.

“We have to get back,” I said, staggering to my feet. “We need to find another way to set Esme free.”

“Humph!” Rascal shook himself like a wet dog. “I’ve had enough of magic,” he spat. “Why can’t you just walk into the cave, go up to your mouldy old aunt and say: ‘Give me my friend back or else’?”

“I wish I could.” I sighed. “But if Aunt Hemlock sees me, she’ll realize Esme’s in disguise. She’ll find out she’s a Person, for sure. Then she’ll turn us all into pumpkins. No – we’ll have to be cunning,” I went on. “Aunt Hemlock’s magic is about a billion times more powerful than mine – even with my wonderful wand.”

I stared down at my sparkly flamingo pen. It had always seemed so brilliant in the Person World. So much better than the knobbly, splintered old stick I had when I lived in the Magic Realm. But suddenly, it seemed too fluffy and feathery to be any use in this dark place. It was so pretty and pink – perfect for making magic cupcakes, but not at all the sort of wand that could rescue a Person from a witch.

“We’ll just have to try our best,” I said.

As Rascal and I staggered back to the window, I could hear Aunt Hemlock’s magic mirror laughing. It had joined in, taunting Esme too.

“No wand, Belladonna?” it sneered. “You really are the most hopeless young witch I have ever seen. If I remember rightly, you don’t even have any warts on your nose.”

“Not a single one!” snapped Aunt Hemlock, peering at her own reflection with a sigh. My horrible aunt always used to bully me to try and sprout a crop of witchy warts. But I never could.

“Not like you, Mistress. You look stunning,” simpered the mirror, sucking up to her as usual. “Your Wobbly Wart Potion has worked wonders!”

“Thank you!” Aunt Hemlock counted the row of fat green warts on the end of her nose.

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