Magic Molly book one The Mirror Maze

  'That's what I said, Millie.'

  'It's Molly, Grandma.'

  'Is it? Who's Millie then?'

  'I don't know, Grandma, I'm Molly.'

  Granny Whitewand fixed her with a stern eye. 'Are you sure?'

  Molly was sure.

  The old witch turned away and headed for the large fireside chair.

  Mrs McCraggity placed two wrapped presents on the table. 'The larger one is from me,' she said. 'I know your mum and dad have a present for you as well, but I don't know where they have hidden it.'

  Molly tore them open excitedly. The first was from Jenny, a music CD by her favourite group, the Crypt Kickers. The other was a book, with Learn To Spell printed on the front in creepy lettering. Molly thanked Mrs McCraggity and took the book and CD to sit opposite Granny Whitewand.

  The old witch opened one eye before casting a furtive glance over her shoulder. She crooked her finger and motioned for Molly to come closer. 'What's this I'm hearing about a task?' she whispered.

  Molly pulled the parchment from the pocket of her dressing gown and handed it to Granny Whitewand.

  'It's a task all right,' said the old witch. 'An official one at that, it's got your details on the back and the Magic Council stamp on the seal.'

  'Where?' asked Molly. I can only see my name and the bit about my task.'

  'It can only be read by a witch, Millie. It's proof of your credentials, it says who you are. If any old Tess, Diane, or Harriet could read it they might turn up at the academy pretending to be you.'

  Granny Whitewand squinted and read from the back of the scroll.

  This is to certify that Molly Miggins, the daughter of a witch, has been given special dispensation to enter the academy of witches twelve months early. A task has been set which the candidate must complete within the time allowed. Failure will result in penalties which have already been explained to the candidate.

  The High Council of Magic.

  'They got your name wrong, Millie,' she cackled.

  Molly sighed. 'No they didn't, Grandma.'

  Granny Whitewand handed the parchment back to Molly. 'This is very unusual. You don't see these things very often. Only very gifted girls get to join the academy early. It looks like the Council have been keeping an eye on you.'

  'But what if I fail the task, Grandma?' cried Molly. 'Either Mum or Dad will come back, not both of them.'

  'They must think you are capable,' said Granny Whitewand softly. 'They are pretty fair at the Council.'

  'It doesn't seem very fair to me,' said Molly.

  Mrs McCraggity called from the hall.

  'Molly, it's nine o'clock, time to make that phone call.'

  Chapter Four

  Molly's hands shook as she dialled the academy number. What if they refused to take her? She would have failed at the first hurdle. She counted six rings before the phone was answered.

  'Hello,' said a crackly voice. 'Witches Academy, this is Ramona Rustbucket speaking. How may I help?'

  'I'm Molly Miggins and I have to take the Witches Promise today,' said Molly.

  'Molly Miggins? You aren't on the list.'

  'No, I have to be put on it,' said Molly. 'I've got special permission,' she added.

  'Who gave you special permission?' asked Ramona Rustbucket. 'Only the High Council can do that and we've had nothing in writing from them.'

  'I've been given a task,' said Molly.

  'A task? This is very unusual. Can I speak to your mother, Molly?'

  'She's not here,' said Molly, 'but Granny Whitewand is.'

  Ramona groaned. 'Oh no! not her.'

  Molly called Granny Whitewand to the phone. She arrived as the doorbell rang. Molly left her to sort out the details and went to the front door. When she opened it she found the fairground owner waiting on the step.

  'Two vanishing cabinets, one top hat and two wands, left over from last night,' he said. 'Where shall we put them?'

  'In his study I suppose,' said Molly quietly. 'It's just down the passage.'

  'I could give you ten pounds for them,' said the fairground owner.

  Molly glowered. 'They aren't for sale.'

  The man laughed. 'Come on, it's a fair offer. It's not as if he's going to need them any more is it?'

  'He's coming back,' said Molly. 'They both are. I'm going to find them.'

  The fairground owner leant forward with a sneer on his face. 'No one has ever come back from the void,' he said. 'Now, are you sure about these cabinets? My next offer won't be so generous.'

  Granny Whitewand appeared at the door carrying her wand. 'What's going on?' she asked.

  The man stepped back with a nervous smile on his face. 'Nothing at all, my dear, just my little joke. Come on lads, hurry up with those cabinets.' He handed the two wands and the top hat to Molly as the men carried the mirrored boxes into Mr Miggins' study.

  'Time is moving on,' he whispered. 'Don't waste it.'

  ***

  'You have to be at the Witches Academy at two thirty in full witch’s uniform,' said Granny Whitewand as Molly closed the front door.'

  'I haven't got a uniform,' said Molly.

  'Mrs McCraggity is going to take you into town this morning to get it,’ said Granny Whitewand. ‘I hope they have your size, Millie, you're a bit on the short side.'

  'That's because I'm only nine,' said Molly.

  Granny Whitewand looked puzzled. 'Are you? Then how come you're doing the promise today, you have to be ten you know?'

  Molly tapped her foot impatiently. 'The task, Grandma?'

  The old witch tapped the side of her head with her scraggy finger. 'Oh yes, I remember now. Is it really your birthday? Come and see me when you get back from town. I have just the thing for a new witch on her first task.'

  Mrs McCraggity and Molly caught the nine thirty bus to town and got off outside Fenwick's department store. It was the biggest store in town; Molly got her school uniform from the third floor every year.

  As they crossed the pavement a huge silver Rolls Royce pulled up. The back door opened and a blonde haired girl wearing gold shoes and a lace dress got out of the car. Molly groaned. It was Henrietta Havelots, the richest and most boastful girl in the school.

  'Hello, Molly Miggins, what brings you to Fenwick's? I thought the charity shop was more your thing.’

  Molly ignored her and walked on, but Henrietta caught up with her before she reached the main doors.

  'I'm getting some new Zeppo designer dresses today,’ she boasted. ‘It's my birthday. I had a new pony delivered this morning and I'm having a party tonight. Sorry, but you're not invited.'

  ‘Never mind,’ said Molly. ‘I’m sure I’ll get over it.’

  Henrietta ignored the remark. 'Oh, I was forgetting, it's your birthday too, isn't it? What did you get, new slippers, socks?'

  Molly stopped walking and turned to face Henrietta. 'Actually I'm going to become a witch today. They're letting me in a year early because they think I'm ready. You can keep your dresses and ponies; you'll never be a witch no matter how much money you have.'

  Henrietta frowned and ran back to her father. 'Dad, I want to be a witch...'

  ***

  Mrs McCraggity led Molly up the escalators, but instead of stopping at the third floor, they took a door at the side and climbed a flight of stairs, then walked along a short corridor. At the end was a heavy looking door with a sign that read, 'Witches Outfitters'. The door opened as they approached. Inside were long rails of cloaks, skirts and tunics. The walls were lined with tall shelves full of hats and boots. Here and there stood full length, talking mirrors where witches of all ages could ask for a truthful opinion on how they looked in their new clothes.

  Molly was fascinated by the cosmetics counter. There were pots of green face cream, tubes of wart enhancers, even packs of long, twisted, false nails.

  An assistant led Molly to the junior section where she was measured up and given a selection of items to try on. Molly picked a pointy hat with
a nice wide brim, a long black skirt, a cloak with holes to put her arms through, some ankle-high, lace-up boots and a bright yellow tunic.

  Mrs McCraggity was horrified. 'Yellow? Witches don't wear yellow.'

  'I like it,' said Molly, 'it's nice and bright.'

  'It's bright alright; people will have to wear sunglasses when they talk to you. Come now, let's be sensible, how about this nice grey one?'

  'But I want this one.' Molly was adamant.

  The assistant came to Molly's rescue. 'This is new in this year, it's the latest fashion.' She nudged Molly and winked. 'Anyway, we don't have all that much in her size, she's a bit on the short side.'

  Molly glared at the assistant. 'I'm not short; I'm just the right size for my age.'

  The assistant looked Molly up and down then turned to Mrs McCraggity. 'It does suit her though, doesn't it?'

  Mrs McCraggity wasn't to be won over that easily. 'We'll let the mirrors decide. They have to tell the truth.'

  While the housekeeper haggled over prices with the assistant, Molly walked to the nearest talking mirror. On the top corner of the frame was a printed card containing a short verse. Molly read it out loud.

  'Mirror, Mirror let me hear, how do I look in my new gear?'

  The mirror ignored her.

  Molly repeated the chant.

  'Go away little girl,' hissed the mirror. 'I do teens, not...infants.'

  Molly was outraged. 'I'm not an infant, I'm nine. I'm up for Witches Promise today.'

  'I do teens,' said the glass, haughtily. Try Glimmer over there, she does, ahem, youngsters.'

  Molly stuck out her tongue, then turned, walked over to a smaller mirror on the opposite wall and tried the chant again.

  'You look like a canary, ' said the mirror.

  Molly glared into the glass. 'Sooner be a canary than a chunk of smeary glass.'

  'I am not smeary,’ said the mirror, smugly. ‘I am polished four times a day.'

  Molly blew hot breath on the mirror and rubbed it in with her hand. ‘You’re smeary now and I bet I could make you even smearier.’ Molly pointed to the cabinet where the cosmetics were on sale. ‘What if I got some of that warty, green, face cream and accidentally spilled it all over you? I bet that would take some getting off.'

  'You wouldn't,' said the mirror, becoming a little less sure of itself. 'Would you?'

  'I might,' said Molly, 'unless someone was to say how nice I looked in my new yellow tunic.'

  Glimmer agreed sulkily and when Mrs McCraggity arrived to hear the verdict it gave its answer with the utmost vigour. 'The clothing suits you very well; a happy colour for a happy spell.'

  Molly grinned and skipped back to the changing room.

  While Mrs McCraggity at the counter paying for their purchases, Molly got changed into her normal clothes for the trip back home. She took off her hat, placed it on the seat and began to pull off her boots. One came off very easily but the other was a bit of a struggle.

  As Molly sat down to have a real good tug at it she felt something squash beneath her. 'Bother,' she said, as she picked up the squashed hat.

  Molly pulled, pushed, smoothed and twisted but the point of the hat could not be put back into shape, the top four inches flopped over like the top of an envelope. The more she tried the worse it got.

  Molly took the hat to the counter and showed it to the assistant. 'It got bent,' she said.

  'I'm afraid we can't change it now, said the assistant. ‘It's damaged goods.'

  'But it's all bent,' said Molly.

  'I can't help that, you bent it.'

  Molly opened her mouth to argue but caught the look in Mrs McCraggity's eye. Instead she pointed to the pots of green face cream. 'Could I have some of that stuff?'

  The housekeeper nodded with a sniff. 'I suppose so, but I don't know what a young girl like you needs moisturiser for.'

  Molly followed Mrs McCraggity towards the exit with the pot of face cream in her hands. She could hear the mirrors whispering among themselves as she went by.

  Molly stared at the line of mirrors. 'If you've got anything to say, say it out loud,' she demanded.

  The mirrors became silent. Molly tossed her head and began to turn away but stopped as a ghostly image appeared in one of the mirrors. Molly stepped closer. In the glass she could see a bird's eye view of a maze. At the centre sat a man wearing a magician's costume.

  'Dad,' she called. 'It's me, Molly. Where's Mum?'

  Mr Miggins looked up as she spoke. He shielded his eyes as if looking into the sun.

  Molly raised her hand to touch the glass but the image faded leaving just her own reflection.

  'Bring it back,' she demanded.

  'Can't,' said the mirror.

  'Try,' said Molly. 'Please.'

  'Can't,' said the mirror. 'It's gone.'

  Molly stamped her foot.

  'Where is that maze?' she asked. 'How do I get there?'

  The mirror giggled sweetly.

  'At least give me a clue,' said Molly.

  'You've just had one,' said the mirror. 'Don't be greedy.'

  Molly turned toward the exit where Mrs McCraggity was waiting. As she passed Glimmer she heard the mirror giggle. 'Tweet tweet,' it called.

  The tweeting sound was replaced by a squelch and a squeal, as a handful of yucky green face cream splattered over the glass.

  'Laugh at that,' said Molly, smugly.

  Chapter Five

  It was raining outside so Mrs McCraggity put up her umbrella as they waited at the bus stop. Molly stood with her for a while, but as the rain eased she moved to the side and stared absentmindedly into a large puddle that had formed on the pavement.

  'Found your mother yet?' said a familiar voice. 'Oh yes, that's right, you've lost your father as well, haven't you? Now that really is negligent.'

  Molly groaned inwardly as she saw Henrietta Havelots standing in front of her.

  'They'll probably never come back, you know that don't you?' said Henrietta spitefully.

  'Yes they will,' Molly said with more confidence than she was feeling. 'I'm going to find them and bring them home.'

  'You?' said Henrietta spitefully. 'You couldn't find your nose if it wasn't fixed to your face. I'd give up now if I were you.'

  Molly bit her lip and didn't reply.

  Mr Havelots came out of Fenwick's chatting to the store manager as his chauffeur waited for instructions. 'See to the bags, Watson,' he called.

  The chauffer and a store employee pushed three trolley loads of packages across the pavement and loaded them into the back of the car. Henrietta grabbed one of the bags with Zeppo Zodiac written on it in gold lettering and waved it under Molly's nose.

  'Know what this is?' she asked.

  Molly didn't know.

  'Doesn't the name mean anything to you? Zeppo Zodiac? The most famous designer in the world?'

  'Oh him,' said Molly. 'I've got a few bits of his at home.'

  'I doubt you could afford Zeppo clothes,' said Henrietta. 'My father actually met him once you know?'

  'I think we may have met him backstage a few times,' said Molly. 'But then it's easy to forget, we meet so many famous people. He might even have been round to our house once, for tea and cake.'

  Henrietta scowled and skipped over to her father.

  Molly bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself laughing and studied the pool of water at her feet.

  Suddenly the puddle began to cloud over. Molly gasped as the ghostly face of her mother appeared in the murky water. She squatted to get a better look. Mrs Miggins seemed to be standing behind a shimmering, green veil, she was saying something, but Molly couldn't hear her words.

  Molly placed her hand just above the surface of the water. 'Mum,' she whispered, 'it's me, Molly.'

  Mrs Miggins looked up and smiled. She began to speak again, this time Molly heard a gurgling sound from the puddle.

  'I can't hear you, Mum.'

  Mrs Miggins spoke again, very slowly. Her wo
rds bubbled up through the water, this time Molly heard them clearly.

  'Happy Birthday, Molly.'

  The puddle began to clear, Molly leant even closer trying to catch a final glimpse before the vision disappeared. 'I'll find you, Mum,' she said quietly, 'I promise.'

  Molly felt a tear run down her cheek, as she lifted her hand to wipe it away, Henrietta jumped into the middle of the puddle soaking Molly to the skin.

  'Oops,' grinned Henrietta. 'I slipped. Get dry soon.'

  Molly watched forlornly as Henrietta climbed into the big, silver car. As the engine started a window wound down and her face appeared. 'You do look a bit of a drip,' she laughed. 'See you later.'

  Mrs McCraggity called as the bus approached the stop. Molly took one last look at the back of Henrietta's car as she climbed aboard the bus.

  'She who laughs last,' she said to herself, 'laughs loudest.'

  On the way home Molly thought about the mysterious void. She told herself that there had to be a way to get in, or the wizard wouldn't have given her the task. Molly decided that she would try the vanishing cabinet herself, if it sent Mum and Dad to the void, it might send her too.

  When she got home, Molly changed into her new uniform and went to look for Granny Whitewand. She found her in the garage arguing with two official looking men.

  'Of course it's safe,' she told them, 'I should know, I've had it for sixty years.'

  'I'm sorry but it has failed the WOT test,’ said the taller of the men. 'You need to get it repaired or buy a new one.'

  Granny Whitewand was outraged.

  'A NEW BROOM! 'she shouted. 'You won't see me on one of those plastic and alloy abominations. Give me a good old hazel and birch twig broom any day of the week.'

  'I'm sorry, but we can't pass it,' said the smaller man. 'It's falling to bits.'

  'Can't you just twiddle the twigs at the back end?' asked Granny Whitewand.

  'There are very few twigs left to twiddle,' said the tall man. 'Get it fixed or you're banned from flying.'

  When the men had gone, Molly followed an angry Granny Whitewand back to her room. 'What's a WOT test?' she asked.

  'Witches Overhead Transport test,' said Granny Whitewand. 'You need a certificate of air worthiness to fly a broom. They reckon mine's too old. It's all nonsense of course, there's nothing wrong with my broom that a few new birch twigs couldn't cure.'

  'Can you fix it, Grandma?'

  'Yes, I think so,' said Granny Whitewand,' I'll nip to the woods later on.'

  Granny Whitewand opened the door to her room and ushered Molly inside. Before closing it she stuck her head around the door and looked up and down the corridor. 'Can't be too careful,' she said.