Chapter 1- Making Life That Little Bit Easier
“Beach towel, check. Sunscreen, check.” Bryony smiled as she crossed through the items on her list. She always enjoyed packing her suitcase for a holiday, but it was even more fun when her suitcase packed itself.
Bryony knew it was sort of cheating, but there was no point living in a magic cottage if you couldn’t use the magic to make your life that little bit easier.
“Sandals, check. Sunglasses, check.” Bryony watched her possessions float one by one into her opened suitcase. “Swimsuit, check. Hang on, not that one. Spots are out this year. I want stripes.”
The spotted swimsuit skulked back into Bryony’s wardrobe, and a nice stripy number emerged to take its place.
“Better.” Bryony nodded her approval as the swimsuit floated towards the suitcase. “Now the rest of you budge up and make room.” The clothes in the suitcase shuffled along, allowing the swimsuit to fold itself up and squeeze in beside them.
Bryony chuckled to herself. It was hard to believe she was talking to her clothes. Then again, a lot had happened in the last month that she found hard to believe.
A month: that’s how long it had been since Bryony had moved into Wychetts. A month since she’d found out she was a Guardian, a descendant of the Wise Ones, and that she could use the magic powers stored within the ancient cottage. The only drawback was that her stepbrother Edwin was a Guardian, too.
Bryony had hated Edwin at first, but over the weeks her feelings of resentment had softened to mere dislike mixed with severe irritation. The first fortnight had been nothing short of a battle, with Bryony and Edwin using Wychetts’ power to get the better of the other at every opportunity. Bryony liked to think she had been the more creative of the two, and took particular pride in one incident where she had conjured an army of ants into Edwin’s trousers when his Auntie Kath had called round for tea.
Naturally Edwin had tried to get his own back (the episode with a bucket of cold baked beans still made Bryony shudder), and the contest had become a tit for tat war of attrition. Eventually Bryony and Edwin had come to realise that no matter what they did to one another, the other would always get their own back sooner or later. The tricks became less frequent, and a sort of unofficial truce had developed. It had been hard going to begin with, but as the days passed Bryony had found herself coming to tolerate the boy. He was still ginger and had a silly whiny voice, but Bryony was getting used to that.
Bryony was also getting used to her stepmother. Jane was like her son, thin and ginger, but with other annoying habits. She smiled a lot and said everything was ‘lovely’. She wore cardigans, flowery dresses and sandals. And she was a teacher.
And yet, just one month after moving into Wychetts together, Bryony found these things weren’t so annoying anymore. Maybe it was because Jane had proved herself to be stronger than Bryony had expected when dealing with the Shadow Clan. Or perhaps it was that Jane had turned out to be quite a good cook, and handy to have around when Bryony needed a hole in her jeans sewing up. But despite repeated requests from her father, Bryony still found it hard to call Jane ‘Mum’.
Bryony checked the items on her list again. That was it. Everything packed.
Mum.
The word repeated inside Bryony’s head, and then she remembered something else that needed packing: the one thing she never went anywhere without. Hurrying to her bed, Bryony slipped a hand under the pillow and retrieved her most precious possession in the entire world.
Mr Cuddles was a bear; although that wasn’t obvious, because he didn’t look much like a bear. Being honest, Bryony would have to admit that Mr Cuddles bore more of a resemblance to a furry toad. But that didn’t matter.
Bryony’s mum (her real mum, that is) had made Mr Cuddles as a present for Bryony’s first birthday. So Bryony had known Mr Cuddles as long as she could remember. Mum had never been good at sewing, but despite the flawed stitching, the lopsided eyes, and the bizarre facial expression that made it look like he was desperate to go to the toilet, Mr Cuddles had a place in Bryony’s heart above anything else she owned; he was, after all, Bryony’s only remaining link to her mother.
Despite Dad’s promises, Bryony still hadn’t heard from Mum. Obviously, as Mum lived in America and had a high level important job, she couldn’t just pop over whenever she felt like it. But surely she could make a quick phone call? Or even write a letter? Just one lousy letter to her only daughter?
But Bryony had to keep reminding herself that she wasn’t Mum’s only daughter anymore. And even though Dad insisted it wasn’t the case, Bryony knew she was no longer the most important thing in her mother’s life.
“There you go,” she whispered, carefully tucking Mr Cuddles into her suitcase. “You’ll be nice and comfy in there. But keep your head down, I don’t want Edwin to see you.”
Edwin didn’t know about Mr Cuddles, and Bryony didn’t want him finding out. Although she had come to tolerate the boy, she would never, ever trust him.
Bryony shook her head, trying to clear all negative thoughts from her mind. It was the half term holiday, and she was going to spend the whole week in a luxury villa on the sun drenched island of Los Sol. Sure Edwin would be there, but even he wasn’t going to spoil her holiday.