Chapter 2- Did I Pack My Headache Pills?

  Edwin sat at the kitchen table, watching his mother rushing around.

  “Travel pills,” murmured Jane, snatching several packets from a cupboard and stuffing them into her suitcase. “Headache tablets. Antiseptic ointment.”

  More cupboard doors opened and closed, and Jane’s suitcase filled with a bewildering assortment of medical supplies.

  “Insect repellent. Plasters. Travel pills.”

  “You’ve already got travel pills,” pointed out Edwin.

  Jane shrugged, and stuffed more packets into her bag. “Better safe than sorry.”

  Edwin shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether his mum was preparing for a week’s holiday or a national emergency. But she had always been like that. He remembered the last time they had planned to leave the mainland, Mum had insisted they both get inoculated against typhoid, hepatitis and yellow fever. And they had only been going to the Isle of Wight.

  “Cough sweets.” Jane sprinted round the table and rummaged in another cupboard.

  “We won’t need cough sweets,” said Edwin. “We’re going to the Mediterranean.”

  “You can catch a cold anywhere,” countered Jane. “And it’s a well known fact that air conditioning in planes spreads all sorts of viruses.”

  “OK.” Edwin nodded resignedly. “Then maybe you should pack oxygen masks and contamination suits as well?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Jane hurried back around the table and stuffed more items into her suitcase. “Luggage restrictions won’t allow that.”

  “I’ll stay here,” offered Edwin. “Then you can take more supplies in my place.”

  Jane stopped packing, and frowned at her son. “Don’t you want to go on holiday?”

  “Not really,” admitted Edwin.

  “Is it Bryony?” Jane tilted her head sideways. “I thought you were getting along better these days.”

  As it happened, Edwin and Bryony were getting along better. Edwin couldn’t bring himself to say that he liked his stepsister, but he was finding that he could actually be in the same room as her without feeling physically sick. But that wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to go on holiday.

  “It’s not Bryony. It’s Wychetts. I like it here.”

  When he’d first seen his new home, Edwin had shared Bryony’s opinion that it was no more than a dilapidated dump. But now he had come to love the old cottage. He loved its crooked floors and its wonky walls, its chunky oak beams and low, sagging ceilings. He felt truly at home here, more at home than anywhere he had lived before. And of course, there was the magic…

  But he couldn’t explain that to his mother. How could he? She didn’t know anything about Wychetts. Everything that had happened that night, with the Dark One and the Shadow Clan, had all been wiped from her mind. It was the same with Bill. Neither knew anything about the amazing powers their home possessed.

  “I’m glad you like the house,” said Jane. “But we’ll only be away for a week. And with Bill not getting a job as yet, we’re lucky to have a holiday at all.”

  Edwin didn’t feel lucky. “Can’t I stay at home?” he pleaded. “You can go with the others if you like. I’ll be quite happy here.”

  Jane looked horrified. “I would never leave you on your own, darling.”

  “But I won’t be on my own,” said Edwin.

  Jane’s blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I…” Edwin realised he had said too much already. “I meant I wouldn’t feel on my own.”

  Jane shook her head, and then smiled. “You’ll be fine once we get there. It’ll be our first big holiday together as a new family. It’ll be fun, being away with Bryony and Bill.” Jane seemed to think about that for a second or two, and then her smile fell. “Did I pack headache tablets?”

  “Yes,” confirmed Edwin.

  Jane didn’t look convinced. “Maybe I should take double rations?”

  From somewhere upstairs came a loud thud. Edwin glanced up at the ceiling. “What was that?”

  There was another thud, louder than the first, followed by a muffled groan.

  Jane hurried into the hallway, with a curious Edwin close behind. They found Bryony standing at the foot of the stairs, a bulging suitcase beside her.

  “You shouldn’t have carried that down by yourself,” said Jane, wagging a finger at Bryony. “You could have had an accident.”

  “I’m fine,” said Bryony. “It was no trouble at all.”

  Edwin’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. He knew Bryony couldn’t have carried that heavy suitcase down the stairs all by herself. There could only be one explanation.

  “And I’m surprised you’ve finished packing so quickly,” added Jane, glancing at her wristwatch. “You only started five minutes ago.”

  Bryony shrugged. “That’s what comes from being highly organised.”

  But Edwin knew better. He knew Bryony couldn’t have packed in that time, just as she couldn’t have carried that heavy suitcase down the stairs. She must have been using magic.

  That was typical of Bryony. She always used Wychetts’ power to get out of doing things. And that rankled Edwin. The power was supposed to be used for good, not just to make life easier.

  “I wish your father was so organised,” said Jane, casting another glance at her wristwatch. “He started well over an hour ago, and should have finished by now.”

  There was a loud thud from above.

  “Bill?” Jane peered up the stairs. “How are you getting on with the packing?”

  “I’m managing,” called Bill, his voice oddly muffled.

  Jane looked at her wristwatch yet again. “I do hope he hurries up, we don’t want to miss the flight.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Edwin, folding his arms. “I’m not coming.”

  “We’ve been through this before,” sighed Jane. “I am not leaving you here on your own. You’re still a child. And children can’t look after themselves.”

  “Darling,” Bill’s muffled voice called from upstairs. “I’ve got my head stuck in the case again.”

  “See what I mean?” Jane rolled her eyes, and then hurried up the stairs.

  Edwin waited until Jane was out of earshot before voicing his disgust at Bryony.

  “You cheated,” he hissed. “You used magic to pack your case.”

  “I don’t see how that’s cheating,” replied Bryony. “I’m just making life a little easier. Anyway chill, we’re on holiday.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” said a shrill voice, and Edwin glanced down to see a mouse poking its head out of a hole in the skirting board.

  “I’ve been so looking forward to this,” continued Stubby. “One whole week of calm and relaxation. Seven hassle-free days devoid of mayhem, irritation and stress.”

  Bryony frowned at the mouse. “I didn’t think you were coming with us?”

  Stubby exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. “Precisely.”

  “I wish I wasn’t going,” muttered Edwin. “I’d rather stay at home.”

  “Fine by me,” said Bryony. “Means I can have double luggage allowance. I’ll go pack another suitcase. Or rather, have another suitcase pack itself for me.”

  “You can’t do anything for yourself,” muttered Edwin, glowering at Bryony as she turned to mount the stairs. “You use magic to do everything.”

  “At least I don’t get a grown up to do it for me,” sneered Bryony. “I know your mummy packed your suitcase. And even wrote out the luggage tag for you.”

  Edwin felt his cheeks burn. “Mum always packs my suitcase,” he said defensively. “She’s got a special technique for socks.”

  “She should put one in your mouth,” suggested Bryony. “Then I wouldn’t have to hear your silly voice whining on about how I use magic.”

  “We’re Guardians,” snarled Edwin. “We should use the power for good, not just to make life easier.”

  “I can use the magic how I want,” insisted Bryony, marching up the s
tairs. “And you can’t do a thing to stop me.”

  “Oh can’t I?” Edwin pointed at Bryony’s suitcase in the hallway. The suitcase twitched, did a little jump, and then burst open, hurling clothes and toiletries in all directions. Bryony ran back down the stairs to see her personal belongings scattered the length of the hallway.

  “What have you done?” she seethed, glaring at Edwin.

  “I’ve taught you a lesson.” Edwin folded his arms and leaned back against the wall.

  “Oh yeah?” Bryony clicked her fingers, and all her belongings flew back into the suitcase. All except one, which Edwin happened to be standing on. He didn’t notice until Bryony screamed at him.

  “Take your foot off Mr Cuddles!”

  Edwin lifted his foot, and picked up the object he’d been standing on. It was some sort of soft toy that looked like a wonky-eyed furry toad.

  “Mr Cuddles?” Edwin started laughing. “You’ve got a toy called Mr Cuddles!”

  “Mum made him when I was a baby,” explained Bryony, advancing on Edwin. “He’s all I have left of her. Give him back to me.”

  “No,” said Edwin, backing away down the hall.

  “Please,” whined Bryony. “I’ll do anything in return.”

  Edwin could see the fear in Bryony’s eyes, and hear it in the quavering of her voice. He had never seen her looking so stressed. It gave him an idea.

  “I’ll give him back,” he agreed. “But only if you promise to use the magic properly from now on. No cheating, no skiving out of household chores.”

  Bryony nodded. “OK, sure, whatever.”

  Edwin handed Mr Cuddles back to Bryony, who smothered its furry head with kisses.

  “I’m glad we came to an arrangement,” said Edwin, pleased with himself. “Hopefully from now you’ll use magic in the way it was supposed to be used.”

  “Oh I will,” said Bryony. As she spoke, a large bowl materialised above Edwin, and deposited a generous helping of lumpy semolina on his head.

  “You can’t do that,” fumed Edwin, wiping the gooey custard from his eyes. “That’s abusing Wychetts’ power.”

  “Oh no it isn’t,” laughed Bryony. “But this is.”

  A second bowl appeared above Edwin, even larger than the first, and drenched the boy in several gallons of even lumpier semolina.

  “You cheat,” rasped Edwin, spraying semolina from his mouth and nostrils. “I’ll make you pay for this. It’s time for the beans again!”

  A huge wooden bucket, brimming with cold baked beans, appeared over Bryony’s head.

  Bryony screamed and ran off down the hallway. The bucket flew after her, with a vengeful Edwin in pursuit.

  “There’s no escape,” he yelled, chasing her into the lounge. “You’ve brought this on yourself.”

  “Stop this lunacy,” shrieked Stubby, scampering into the lounge behind Edwin. “It will end in disaster!”

  But Edwin ignored the mouse, laughing as he watched the bucket home in on its target.

  Bryony reached the end of the room, and ducked at the last possible moment. The bucket skimmed her head, and went zooming towards the fireplace.

  Over the fireplace, carved into the wooden beam that spanned the hearth, was a face. It was neither human nor animal, and might have been considered ugly by some. But Bryony and Edwin knew this face was special, because it belonged to Inglenook, Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom and custodian of Wychetts’ ancient power.

  And that’s why both Edwin and Bryony exhaled gasps of horror as the bucket of beans struck Inglenook on the nose, depositing its slimy payload all over his carved wooden features.

  The empty bucket bounced on the floor, and the clattering noise seemed to echo for ages.

  “Oh no,” shrieked Stubby. “Look what you’ve done!”

  Edwin gawped at Bryony. Bryony gawped at Edwin. The two children gawped at Inglenook.

  The carved wooden features creased, and the floor started to tremble. Then there was a noise, and as the noise became louder, the whole house seemed to shake…