Chapter 12
Ghost Town
It was October and the trees outside the window of the second floor classroom started to turn yellow, orange and red. Fall was on its way.
Groups of students wearing safety goggles sat around black high top tables where beakers filled with water bubbled on hot plates.
"The silver penny is actually created by a process known as galvanization," Mr. Burnside explained from the head of the class. He wore a white lab coat over his blue shirt and a black astronomical tie. The safety glasses he wore magnified his eyes and he had two thick white tufts of hair on either side of his head that projected straight out.
Mr. Burnside was notorious for his boisterous voice that could be heard all the way down the hall even with his classroom door closed. He was a favorite among students for his enthusiasm and passion for science.
Reaching into the bubbling beaker in front of him, Mr. Burnside's tongs emerged with a silver penny that he held up for all to see, "Eureka! A silver penny. We are actually coating the copper of the penny with zinc by forming sodium zincate. This gives us the silver appearance."
Timothee sat with Theo, Abigail and Archie in the corner of the classroom working on the silver penny experiment. Archie was stirring a beaker of bubbling water when he asked, "Can you hand me the zinc sulfate Abigail?"
Abigail closed her Latin book and lifted up a glass beaker filled with metallic strips, "This?"
"No," Archie answered, "That is the solid zinc. We will need that next. Right now I need the white powdery stuff."
"Oh," Abigail responded, and handed Archie the circular container with the powder inside. She went back to her Latin book and flipped it open, "I need to study. Rumor is that Mrs. Dell gave her first period class a pop quiz."
Timothee in the mean time concentrated on a pencil lying on the black lab table and whispered, "bouger" as the pencil remained still.
"No luck?" Theo said.
Timothee shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. It's been one whole month and I can't even make a simple pencil do what I want. Give me a wand and I can turn that pencil into a whistling watch. Take away my wand and I'm pretty much a muggle. No offense."
"None taken," Archie said as he lowered his glasses to get a better look at the dissolving powder, "But didn't you set your French book on fire last week?"
"Yes, but I was trying to move Ursa."
"What's an Ursa?" Theo asked.
Timothee's face flushed, "It's…"
"A bear," Abigail said.
"How do you know?" Timothee asked.
"Ursa is the latin word for bear" Abigail replied.
"Oh," Timothee said.
Archie looked over from his swirling beaker, "It's also a constellation."
"That's all fine and well. But what is your 'Ursa' Timothee?" Theo said.
"It's a stuffed bear I have. I kind of grew up with him. He's one of those magic bears that can walk and talk although he can't talk anymore."
Abigail looked up from her Latin book in surprise, "Yours still works?"
"You know about them?" Timothee answered.
"My sister got one for me when I was little but the charm on it wore off after a few years. Now it's just an ordinary stuffed bear."
Timothee hunched his shoulders, "I don't know how Ursa does it but he just keeps on going. He's been with me since I could remember but that still doesn't help the fact that I can't do magic like you guys."
"You might not be performing the magic that you want, but magic is still happening," Archie explained while sprinkling the strips of zinc into the bubbling solution. Next he reached for the penny and dropped it into the beaker.
"I guess," Timothee said. He looked down at his worksheet and read the first question, "What is the process of applying a protective zinc coating to prevent rusting called?"
"Galvanization," Archie answered, "The professor just said that one. What's the next question?"
Timothee looked down at the worksheet, "Explain the process in which the copper penny is coated with zinc."
"Hmm… some kind of electron charge?" Archie guessed.
"Let me see," Theo said, grabbing the worksheet. He pulled out his black ornate pen and dabbed the tip on his tongue. Looking around the room, he scanned for something until his face lit up, "The dissolving zinc is interacting with the copper through electron transference causing the copper molecules to be charged. Those copper molecules are then bonding with the zinc molecules causing the silver colored coating."
"Wow!" Timothee said, "I didn't know you were good at science?"
"Cheater," Archie said bitterly under his breath.
"Why do you say that?" Timothee asked.
"Theo is not actually that smart," Archie said.
"Hey!" Theo protested, "I did better than you on our last quiz."
"Well, what happened the day you forgot your pen?" Archie asked accusingly.
Theo opened his mouth but then shut it as Mr. Burnside, who was wondering around the classroom, was headed in their direction. He looked at their bubbling beaker and watched as the edges of the penny started to turn silver, "Very good work Archimedes. Did you know that Archimedes of Syracuse was also an alchemist?"
"I do, in fact that is who I am named after," Archie said.
"A great name indeed. I see you have question two already done, well ahead of the class. What if I were to ask you what would happen if we were to oxidize these pennies with water?"
"It would turn blue or green," Archie said.
Mr. Burnside grinned, "Excellent. And do you know what they call that layer of color?"
"Um…" Archie thought.
Timothee watched as Theo dabbed the tip of his pen on his tongue.
"Patina?" Theo said.
Mr. Burnside stood straight up with his white tufts of hair swaying back, "Wow, I thought I could stump you two. You two make a great team. If you want a great example of a Patina, just look at our Statue of Liberty. It was not always that greenish color but was originally the same color as our pennies." He looked over at Timothee, "A gift from the French I might add."
"Wi," Timothee replied.
"Oh look," Mr. Burnside said, "It looks like your penny is good and silver."
They looked down at the silver coin sitting in the bubbling white beaker. Grabbing a pair of tongs, Mr. Burnside pulled out the penny and held it up for them to see, "Now, for the real alchemy, turning silver into gold."
Mr. Burnside touched the edge of the beaker to make sure it wasn't too hot before he removed it from the hotplate. Taking the penny, he dropped it onto the center of the hotplate, "Just watch."
Abigail, who had hidden her Latin book, leaned forward to see, while Timothee slid over to make more space.
Slowly but surely the silver plating on the penny began to turn a bright gold.
"Voila!" Mr. Burnside shouted, causing some of the other students to turn, "Now this isn't real gold, it is an alloy. Do you know what this is? Perhaps for a bonus point on your next quiz?"
"Bronze?" Archie said.
The smile on Mr. Burnside's face grew from ear to ear, "My oh my, your parents must be very proud of you! Where did you come up with that answer?"
"Recently I was reading a history book and they were talking about the Bronze Age, although that was a mix between copper and tin."
"Is it brass?" Abigail said.
"Bingo!" Mr. Burnside answered, "One extra point will be added to each one of your grades."
Theo, Archie, Timothee and Abigail each exchanged a smile.
Mr. Burnside leaned in, "Don't tell the others. Let's give them a shot to earn an extra point as well. Okay?"
The group of teens nodded before Mr. Burnside wondered off towards another group.
"Okay, you did it again," Timothee said, "What is with the pen?"
Theo held up the pen and spun it in his hands before saying, "This old thing?"
"Is it a cheating quill?" Timothee asked.
"No," Theo said innocently.
"It might as well be," Archie grumbled begrudgingly before taking the penny off the hotplate and examining it.
"It's the ink," Abigail said, "It's mixed with Felix Felicis."
"Liquid Luck?" Timothee said.
"Exactly," Archie answered, "It's just enough for him to get an answer or two right on his quizzes but give him a paper or an essay and he's going to need to suck on that thing like a baby bottle."
"You're just jealous," Theo said to Archie.
"Of you? Never," Archie fired back.
"Hey guys, take it easy!" Abigail interjected. "Look, who cares if he uses a magic pen? It helped us get some bonus points right? We are all on the same team."
Archie and Theo refused to look at each other before Archie mumbled, "I guess you're right."
Theo looked over and extended a hand to which Archie accepted.
"Good," Abigail said, "Now that that's over, on to more important stuff like Sleepy Hollow. Theo, you told your Dad that you were sleeping over at Timothee's right?"
Theo nodded, "We are all good."
Abigail turned, "Archie, you told your parents you are staying with Timothee?"
"All set," Archie said.
"I told my parents, I am staying at Kate's. And Timothee, your parents are cool with us staying at your place?"
Timothee shook his head, "They were actually pretty excited that I was having friends over."
The bell rang over the loud speaker and all the students began to put their books into their bags while Mr. Burnside tried to shout last minute instructions.
Abigail shoved her Latin book into her book bag, "Excellent. I talked to Kevin yesterday and everything is set up. Sleepy Hollow here we come! Oh how I can already taste the butter beer!"
Theo raised his hands in a ghoulish motion, "The Ghost city. Oooooo!"
Timothee felt as if his stomach was about to do flips. He was excited by the prospect of being around magic again, "Maybe I can buy a wand there if no one is looking."
He walked out the door and headed down the hall towards his French class when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder. Behind him was Jena Barnwell with a nervous smile on her face. Her brown hair was curled instead of straight and she was wearing a lavender colored dress.
"Hi," She said rather quickly.
"Bonjour," Timothee replied.
Jena giggled, "I haven't talked to you in some time."
"Sorry. I've been busy," he answered, "How are things with you?"
"Good. I've been busy as well planning our Homecoming dance tonight. It should be pretty big this year."
"Homecoming?" Timothee asked. He had seen fliers all over the school promoting the event.
"Homecoming is a tradition here in America. It usually surrounds the Alumni weekend. That's when all the people who used to go to Witchaven High come back. Traditionally we hold a parade and a dance."
"Is that like a ball?" Timothee asked.
"Exactly!" Jenna said, "But less fancy… so I was wondering…" Jena bit her lower lip and looked nervously at her fingers which meddled with a piece of folded up paper.
"What?" Timothee asked.
"If you would go with me?" She replied.
"Um," Timothee said. He fumbled over his words, "I didn't. Um. I didn't actually plan on going."
Jena's shoulders drooped, "I see."
"I mean, I would like to go with you but I already made plans for tonight. I didn't realize that there was a ball. A dance! I mean," Timothee blurted out.
"It's okay," Jena replied. Her face turned red as she quickened her pace and disappeared into the sea of students.
"Well that was unexpected," Timothee thought.
The rest of the day seemed to drag on as Timothee checked the clock every five minutes. It was even worst when Jena refused to even look in his direction in their French class. He just wanted the day to be over so he could meet up with his friends and head out to Sleepy Hollow.
After a grueling wait, the school day was finally over and Timothee grabbed his things and set out for the tall cherub statue in front of Town Hall. The air was cooler now that fall had begun to set in and the breeze that ran through the town sent leaves dancing about the streets and sidewalks.
"The day would not end!" Timothee said as he approached the statue, he walked under a banner that said "Welcome Back!"
Timothee let out a long yawn as he approached his friends.
"Cursed! Cursed!" Theo yelled jokingly as he pointed accusingly at Timothee.
Abigail crossed her pointer fingers and looked away, "Don't touch him!"
Timothee watched as the yawn spread across the herd of walking students. It traveled at a blinding rate from a nearby boy in blue to his two friends standing in front of him. A girl walking passed the group of boys yawned and her younger sister holding her hand did the same. A police officer helping direct the school buses had to stop and hold his hand over his mouth. From there it jumped to a bus driver. One yawn turned into three which turned into nine, which turned into twenty-seven and so on.
Archie tossed Timothee a vial of Wizergen, "Take this."
Timothee popped the top off the vial and threw back the blue and silver swirling liquid. He had grown accustom to the taste and liked the warm sensation it made going down. Instantly he felt the boost of energy hit his system.
Abigail turned and pointed towards Precious Boutique, "Kevin is waiting for us."
"You're right. Let's go," Archie said and set out.
"So, Archie, any luck with the water?" Theo asked.
"It's been getting fainter and fainter for the past month," Archie admitted, "It's almost like there is no magic in the water at all. The strange thing is that there is a level of static that remains."
"What do you mean?" Theo said.
"It's like background noise or magic that is interfering even without the water. I guess I never noticed it before." Archie said.
"Strange," Abigail shrugged.
"You're telling me," Archie replied.
They walked down the street until they arrived at the Precious Boutique. Timothee could barely contain himself, the day was finally here.
"Welcome!" Kevin greeted, "You ready?"
"Boy, am I ever!" Theo said.
"Is he here?" Abigail asked.
"He should be here any minute," Kevin assured pulling back the sleeve to his shirt and checking his wrist watch.
Just at that moment there was a loud crack as a wizard apparated into the center of the store. Timothee felt a subtle pressure wave blow past him as the wizard settled himself before them. He wore a black trench coat with long brown hair that was tied back. Streaks of grey peppered his hair and a 5 o'clock shadow hugged his face. His eyes were brown and there was a subtle smoky smell to him like sulfur and charcoal.
The wizard reached over and up-righted a Matryoshka doll that had been knocked over by his arrival, "Sorry about that gents. I didn't know I would be landing in a fine china shop."
Timothee recognized the British pronunciation almost instantly.
The wizard looked at the others and waved, "The name is Daniel Spoon. You lot are a lot younger than my normal clients and you don't breathe fire."
"Who are your normal clients?" Archie asked.
Daniel shrugged, "Well. I typically haul around dragons. So in reality you are nothing like my normal clients at all."
"You're a dragon smuggler?" Theo said.
"Something like that," Daniel said.
"But isn't that illegal?" Timothee noted.
"So is hauling a few underage wizards off to Sleepy Hollow but I don't hear you complaining about that," Daniel replied, "What's with the interrogation? Are we going to do this or not?"
"Yes, of course," Abigail blurted.
Daniel extended his palm up, "Okay, well let's take care of business then."
"Yup, I got it," Kevin said reaching under the counter and pulling out a small leather bag. He tossed it to Daniel who snatched it out of the air. The bag made a clinking sound as he caught it. Daniel opened the pouch to confirm the contents before closing it and saying, "Looks good to me, everybody huddle around, you wouldn't want to get splinched now would you?"
Archie let out a small gasp.
Daniel grinned, "Aw don't worry, I haven't splinched someone in ages."
"Have fun," Kevin waved before there was a loud crack and a shudder.
Timothee felt his body twist, flip and spin as though he was being pulled through a key hole and exploded out whole on the other side. His feet hit solid ground and he swayed to gain his balacnce.
"I think I am going to be sick," Archie gurgled as his face turned green.
"Ay, just breathe," Daniel assuaged, "The feeling should pass."
Timothee looked around the room they had arrived in. It was filled with various glass displays, pictures and old 17th century objects. A large white banner with black lettering read, "Welcome to the Sleepy Hollow Museum."
"This isn't Sleepy Hollow," Archie said.
"You can't actually apparate directly into Sleepy Hollow," Daniel confessed.
Abigail turned, "Then how are we supposed to get there?"
"Turn around," Daniel ordered and pointed to a large painting of a 17th century town. The painting was enormous, at seven feet tall and ten feet wide, it took up most of the wall it was mounted on.
Daniel reached into the inner jacket pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a tarnished silver spoon. Holding the spoon, he tapped the painting three times.
"That's it?" Abigail asked.
"That's it." Daniel affirmed.
"What do we do now?" Theo asked.
"Just… step." Daniel said pointing at the painting.
"Step where?" Abigail said.
Daniel turned back towards the painting and rolled his eyes and muttered "teenagers." Lifting his left leg over the base of the frame, he took a step into the painting and vanished. The painting didn't change or quiver, it didn't do anything. Daniel simply disappeared.
Archie's eyes grew as he turned to the others, "Did you just see that?"
Theo let out a deep breath and took a step towards the painting, "Here we go."
The others stood behind him and watched as he lifted his leg slowly and stepped right into the mural.
Abigail let out a small chuckle and leapt into the painting behind Theo. Timothee turned towards Archie who had an anxious look on his face.
"After you," Archie said nervously.
"Timothee walked to the painting and put his hand through it. He felt a cool breeze run through his fingers on the other side. Closing his eyes, he hopped into the painting.
Timothee felt his right foot catch on the frame, turning his momentum against him as he launched forward in a dive. Opening his eyes, he watched as muddy ground rushed towards him. He felt his cheek hit, creating a loud "splat!" His sense of smell was overwhelmed with a rich earthy aroma.
Timothee heard Theo and Abigail's wild laughter at his expense. Abigail held her stomach while Theo wiped the tears away from his face.
"What happened?" Daniel asked, walking over and helping Timothee to his feet.
"I don't know," Timothee answered as he wiped off globs of mud from his yellow striped shirt which was now brown.
"We made it!" Archie shouted as he appeared in the middle of the road, "What's so funny?"
Theo and Abigail pointed to the mud covered Timothee.
"What happened to you?" Archie asked.
"I… I fell," Timothee admitted.
"Well this won't do," Daniel said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his tarnished silver spoon, and gave it a small wave.
Timothee felt his clothes begin to dry as the brown mud stains dried into dust and crumbled off of his shirt and pants. Within a few seconds, Timothee was dusting himself off, "Merci."
Archie looked to Theo whose eyes also widened.
"Mr. Spoons, sir." Archie said.
"Call me Daniel. No need for formalities here."
"Mr. Daniel," Archie said, "What is that spoon?"
Daniel held the spoon up, "It's my wand."
"Wand, but I thought wands had to be made of wood?" Archie said.
"With a core," Theo added.
Daniel grinned, "Wands can be made from anything mate. You don't even need a wand to make magic happen. In fact, when I was a boy, we were too poor for wands. We made our wands out of things that were valuable to us. My brother and I used these spoons. A few other rascals used toys, candlestick holders, anything really."
Timothee reached for the two rings that dangled on his necklace, "Do you have the same control as a wand?"
"At first we didn't," Daniel confessed, "But my brother Oliver figured that if wands used cores to control magic, why couldn't we do the same?"
"And it worked?" Archie asked.
Daniel pointed to a small black string tied to the neck of his spoon, "Werewolf whisker this is. Got you lot here alright."
Timothee saw the wheels turning in Archie's head.
Daniel tucked his spoon away and clapped his hands together, "Alright, that's enough of that. I have to pick up some odds and sods so let's meet back here in an hour's time. If you find yourselves in barney, you can find your own way back. Fair enough?"
"Where is barney?" Abigail asked.
"It's trouble," Daniel clarified, "Last thing I need is a couple Aurors running up my behind. If they show, I go. Simple as that."
"Got it," Abigail said and the others nodded.
"Then have at it. Welcome to Sleepy Hollow," Daniel said with an outstretched arm as he moved out of the way.
The ghost town of Sleepy Hollow was a rundown assemblage of 17th century colonial style buildings. Ghosts, wizards, witches and creatures all strolled about in the muddy streets as a low hanging fog trawled through the streets making visibility limited. It was bleak and dreary and yet Timothee still felt strangely at home. The sky was overcast with a hue of green and it was hard to tell what time of day it was. There was a slight sulfur smell to the air that reminded him of a bog or a swamp. A ghost horse pulled a carriage through the mud without making a sound.
A tightly organized group of ghosts dressed in American Revolutionary military garb trotted about in a square formation. Their tricorne hats bobbing up and down with the cadence of their step as long tall ethereal muskets pointed high over their see through heads.
The ghost of a woman in large flowing white and grey dress floated about, singing dreary operatic tunes as she fanned herself ever so gently.
Ghosts and wizards, Wizards and ghost, they were all intermingled going about their business.
"It looks bleak," Abigail grimaced.
"It's a ghost town," Archie said, "It's supposed to be bleak. Most of the people here are dead."
Archie made his way towards the front of the group and turned around, "Okay, so here's the plan. We have…" He checked his watch, "Fifteen minutes until Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle shows up at the Crane's Bookstore over there. Until then, we can explore what we want. I know I wanted to head to the Baltus' Bubbling Cauldron for some ingredients, I know Abigail wanted to check out Katrina's Candies. Timothee, Theo, what do you guys want to do?"
Timothee looked at Theo who hunched his shoulders, "I guess we can walk around until the book signing?"
Archie nodded, "Okay, just remember to be in that shop in fifteen?"
They scattered, heading off in different directions, Archie to his potions shop and Abigail to the candy shop. They had exchanged their saved allowances with Kevin for Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and they were prepared to spend every last one of them.
"Do we get a broom?" Theo laughed as he gave Timothee a playful punch in the arm.
"It would make getting to school a lot easier," Timothee chuckled.
Theo and Timothee walked by a small group of wizards and witches standing in front of a raised wooden gallows. It peaked their interest and they decided to join the crowd. Two torches burned black flames on either side of the stage and a weathered banner with holes and tears hung over the stage with the words, "186th Headless Hunt's Scavenger Hunt."
The murmurs of the crowd fell silent as a loud triumphant hunting horn trumpeted throughout the town. The ghostly head of a man, with a thick white beard and ever so fashionable top hat emerged from the floorboards of the gallows. It wasn't long before his body followed wearing a red riding jacket and trousers.
Clearing his throat, the ghost peered into the crowd. His nose pointed ever so slightly upwards as he spoke, "Livens and beloved members of the afterlife. I am Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore and welcome to the 186th Headless Hunt's Scavenger Hunt!"
Patrick Delaney-Podmore paused dramatically before lifting his head from his shoulders and holding it in a Shakespearean fashion:
"Once in the noon of a cold fall breeze,
Cannon flame and rifle scream.
A Revolution fought for a freedom dream.
A rider fell from atop his horse,
Lost his head and rest in peace,
Eternal sleep it would not be.
For haunt he doth and rode his horse,
The Sleepy Man showed no remorse.
Who was this man who lost his head?
"Soldier!" some would claim.
While others thought,
That Brom Van Bunt may have been to blame.
You see Ichabod Crane that Cheeky man,
From fancy town away.
Vied for Katrina's hand and lusted land,
Which Brom could not stand.
To he who lost his head one day,
A horseman it was meant to be,
His prized possession lost to him,
He haunted the town of Sleepy then.
For sixteen score and six more,
We come to find his head.
Lest we find it, then we end it,
And the Headless Hunt begins!"
There was a sudden tremble in the ground as the stampeding hooves of horses grew like an approaching storm. A pale blue and grey horde of ghostly headless horseman surged from behind the stage and plowed right through the crowd. The shock of the passing phantoms felt like a winter breeze and Timothee shivered. They thundered through the crowd performing various tricks on horseback. Some riders juggled heads while another ghost stood on his saddle doing back flips and handstands. One ghost reached down for Timothee, causing the young wizard to duck his pale grasp.
Theo laughed, "They can't grab you! They're ghosts!"
"Oh yeah," Timothee said nervously, "I forgot."
The ghosts howled as the crowd cheered and it wasn't long before the thundering show was down the street and over a bridge on the other side of town.
The crowd applauded and Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore tossed his head into the air and bowed his body. As his body straightened, his head landed conveniently onto his shoulders, "We will be accepting new applicants to the Headless Hunt on All Hollows' Eve!"
Pressing his hunting horn to his grey ghost lips, Sir Patrick trumpeted a regal tune before flying into the air, landing on an ethereal horse and galloping off in the direction of the other headless riders.
"Wow that was amazing!" Theo said as he grinned from ear to ear.
"I was not expecting to see the Headless Hunt!" Timothee replied.
They dispersed with the rest of the crowd and slogged their way through the muddy street.
Theo pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch, "What next? We still have some time."
"Meet up with Abigail for some treats?" Timothee suggested.
Theo grinned and pointed towards a storefront a few buildings down, "I was thinking maybe we could have a little fun?"
Timothee followed Theo's finger and read the sign "Bonez's Wands" before looking back nervously, "But what about the trace? We could never buy one."
"I'm not looking to buy a wand. I just want to hold one again. Come on Timothee, it doesn't hurt to look. Pick one up, wave it around a little."
Theo folded his hands and held them up as if to beg.
"Oh how nice it would feel," Timothee thought to himself as his heart began to race, "Okay."
A small wind chime made of wish bones, finger bones and rib bones clacked as the door opened to the old dusty wand shop. The store was small, no larger than a bedroom with a shop counter to one side. Shelves bursting with small dusty boxes were piled all the way to the ceiling. A rusted brass bird cage was off to a corner with the skeleton of a parrot happily swaying and cooing on its' swinging perch. Candles flickered high on the walls in every direction and an orange light filled the dimly lit room.
Behind the counter was a large painted diagram of Wandlore. On the lower half was every type of wand wood from Willow, Holly, and Hawthorn to more exotic woods like Dracaena Draco and Dracaena Cinnabari. On the upper half of the painting were all the cores that one could imagine, from the popular materials to the ones out of style. Golden strings in the painting danced from different wand cores to the different wand woods. When the golden strings connected a pair, writing would appear explaining their relationships. It was mystifying to watch and Theo imagined he could stare at the painting for hours. A gold string from a phoenix feather connected with pine and lit up.
Theo coughed as he waved the dust from his face, "It looks like no one has been in here in centuries."
Timothee blinked and rubbed his eyes, "I thought you said this was a wand shop."
"It said," Theo started but was cut off by a nasally voice from behind the counter.
A Skeleton wearing a black pinstripe suit emerged and greeted Timothee and Theo, "Bonez's Wands! Best wands for the living, dead, near dead, almost dead and mostly dead. How may Bonez Femuring be of service to you young wizards?"
Timothee and Theo took a frightened leap back.
"But you're a," Theo said, his mouth a gape.
"Skeleton?" Bonez said.
The two teenage wizards nodded.
"That I am," Bonez noted as he held up a smooth butterscotch skeleton hand and examined it in the candle light, "But then again both of you have skeletons don't you?"
"Uh huh," They answered in unison.
Bonez's black pits for eyes examined them as his jaw bone clacked up and down, "So I guess that doesn't make us that much different now, does it?"
"Nuh uh," They replied.
"Good," Bonez said, slapping his carpals against the counter, making a loud clack. The skeleton parrot in the cage, let out a loud, "Haaawwww!"
Bonez skull turned towards the cage, "Shhh, Avila," before turning back to the boys, "Now that that is out of the way. What can I do for you?"
"Um," Timothee stuttered. Still mystified by the talking skeleton. He had seen many things in the magical world but this was a first for him.
"Wands," Theo finally said, taking a step forward, "You see my friend here crushed his at quidditch practice yesterday. Forgot he had it in his robes."
"Is that right?" Bonez said, looking over at Timothee, "Salem?"
"Pursang," Timothee said.
Bonez stood from his brown wooden counter, "Pursang? Why aren't you a far ways from home?"
Theo shot Timothee a glare as if to say, "What are you doing?"
Timothee exchanged a nervous glance. The panic clear as day.
Bonez tilted his head and the vertebrae in his neck cracked, "What brings you all the way to old Bonezy's place? They don't have wand shops in France?"
"He's an exchange student," Theo explained, "Studying abroad for a semester."
"Oh really?" Bonez said, "You know I fought side by side with Frenchmen during the Revolution. Any man of France is a friend of Bonez. What can I get you?"
Timothee's blank stare didn't budge as he thought to himself, "What if I get caught with a wand? What if the ministry finds out and sends me to Azkaban? What will I tell Samuel, Mara… my Grandmother! I can't do that to her again."
Theo looked back and forth between Timothee and Bonez, "I'm sorry, he doesn't speak much English."
"No problem," Bonez assured, "Quel genre de baguette voulez-vous? "
"Eleven inch ebony," Timothee replied before he could realize what he had done but he couldn't help himself. He felt a nervous knot in the pit of his stomach as he watched the well suited wand clerk walk from behind his desk to an opposite corner of the shop.
"Hmmm…" Bonez hummed as his skull moved from box to box, "Ebony… good for dueling, handy for transfiguration… Black as night and true to purpose... ah, here we go. I have a delightful ebony wand here, probably a thousand years old by my guess from the far off lands of Arabia."
Pulling the black box from the shelf, he blew the dust from the top before walking back behind his counter and setting it down.
Timothee and Theo walked forward to get a better look.
"Got this wand from a collector some ages ago during the Revolution. Back then there was more to me than this believe it or not," Bonez explained as he knocked on his rib cage and made a hollow "thud."
Bonez removed the black box cover, "Anyway, I won't bore you with the details. Just know it's been sitting here for a while. Hopefully it's still in one piece."
Inside the box was a soft folded white silk cloth with gold around the trim.
The Arabic words "ابن المستكشف" were monogrammed into one corner which Bonez translated to "Ibn Almustakshaf." It took the simple pull of two boney metacarpals and it was there, staring them all in the face.
Timothee felt his heart skip a beat as he looked down at the wand. It was black as midnight with a high luster sheen. The handle and the wand itself were seamless. It was only partitioned by a gold band around the throat of the undulating handle. It looked more like a fine pen than a wand.
"Go on," Bonez urged, "Take it for a whirl."
Timothee peered into Bonez's shadowed sockets before looking back down to the wand. His old wand looked nothing like this.
Reaching his fingers in, he pulled the wand out and held it in his hands. It was light, almost as if he wasn't holding anything in his hands at all and the balance was impeccable. Timothee wondered if he could balance the wand on one finger. Rolling the wand between his pointer finger and thumb, he read a gold inscription in the handle, "تعرف نفسك"
"Know Thyself," Bonez translated.
Timothee looked at Bonez.
"Wise words from a wise wizard. Follow them and there is nothing you can't do with that wand," Bonez promised, "Go on and give it a flick."
Timothee swallowed. He hesitated, thinking of the consequences he faced before he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder.
"Go on," Theo smiled, before giving a light squeeze.
Timothee's fingers trembled as he held the wand up. It felt as if the wand hummed in his hand. Like the very magical essence of it was just bursting to get out. With a simple flick of the wrist, there was a calm "Hussss" as all the candles in the shop went out, like they were lulled to sleep.
They stood there in the darkness before Bonez said, "Go on, do it again."
And with another soft flick, all the candles "Puffed" back to life as if to wake once again.
The muscles under Timothee's face tightened as he grinned.
"Feels good huh?" Bonez asked.
Timothee nodded before setting the wand back in the black box.
"Twenty galleons," Bonez said.
"Twenty galleons!" Theo yelled in disbelief, "That's four times as much as my wand cost!"
"A wand like this is hard to find," Bonez insisted.
Timothee couldn't take his eyes off of the wand. He felt something burn deep inside of him when he used it. Something that had been dormant for many months inside of him was awakened once again. It was magic and oh how easy it had been. He didn't have to concentrate, he didn't have to think of happy thoughts or sad thoughts or his parents, and it was effortless, natural.
Pulling up his sleeve, Theo looked at the watch on his wrist, "Shoot we are going to be late!"
He took the wand from Timothee's hands and placed it back in the wooden box. Grabbing Timothee by the wrist, he practically dragged him from the wand shop as Bonez called out, "Okay seventeen galleons!" but before Timothee could entertain the idea for a second longer, they were sloshing across the muddy streets towards the bookstore one block away.
By the time Timothee and Theo arrived at Crane's bookstore, a small group of wizards and witches had gathered in the back of the shop. The two teens weaved their way through the crowd until they found Abigail and Archie.
A small table was set out with two piles of books on either side. On each pile was an upright book titled, Magical History Brought to Life Part 3 by Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle. On the cover of the book was a wand with a wispy memory dancing on the end like candle smoke.
"You're late," Archie whispered, pointing to his wrist watch.
Timothee noticed the small cauldron Archie was carrying.
"We got held up," Theo replied, "Nice cauldron."
"Thanks," Archie whispered, "I figured I could try my hands at a few potions."
Timothee looked to Abigail who was munching on a baked treat, "Is that a Pumpkin Pastie?"
Abigail nodded happily, "Daniel gave it to me in Katrina's Candies. He bought a whole crate for Mrs. Cole."
"Who's that?" Timothee asked.
"She was the lady that ran the orphanage he and his brother grew up in. You guys should stop by there after this. Although I must admit most ghost food is pretty gross."
"Why is that?"
"Most of it is rotten. Old fish and stinky cheese, it smelled terrible. I almost left until Daniel showed me where the 'living' section of the store was. That's where the good stuff was," Abigail explained and lifted up a full shopping bag.
"Shhhh!" Archie hissed, "He's here!"
The back door to Crane's Bookstore opened and a tall wizard emerged wearing a black robe with grey stars patterned from top to bottom. He walked behind the table that was set out and scanned the crowd with his big blue eyes. Patting down his grey wavy hair, he cleared his throat and pulled out his willow wood wand.
"History…" Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle started in a dramatic tone, "That ever living, ever evolving, ever creating part of life."
He pressed the wand to his temple, pulled a memory from his head and waived it in a high arc. The wispy memory no bigger than a ribbon grew to the size of a banner and inside was prominent wizards and witches of history.
Archie's face lit up as he pointed, leaned over and whispered, "That's Newton Scamander! And that's Nicolas Flamel... and… and… that is Quong Po, the famous dragonologist!"
"Shhh," An older wizard hushed from behind Archie.
"Sorry," Archie whispered.
Bartholomew gaze fell upon the teens, "Like footsteps in the snow or handprints on a window, we leave a piece of us where ever we go. Pieces for others to see like bread crumbs for others to follow. To postulate how we lived, how we loved, who we were. Magical History Brought to Life doesn't just show you the footsteps in the snow, it lets you see the wizards and witches as they make them. Don't read history like those other books, live the history with my book!"
The small crowd began to applaud as "Magical History Brought to Life" appeared in gold lettering in the banner above.
Bartholomew bowed his head, his grey wavy locks falling forward, "Thank you! Thank you! Please pick up your signed copy today and I will be more than happy to answer your questions."
The witches and wizards assembled into a line fifteen deep and waited to get their books signed.
"Why are we here again?" Abigail said, "I mean there are so many cool things we can see right now, why are we in a book store?"
"Because he is a famous historian, maybe he can help us with our little sleeping problem back home," Archie said between his teeth as he looked around to those nearest them.
"I see," Abigail said. The witch ahead of them moved out of line with her signed book and the four of teens found themselves standing in front of the small wooden table.
"How many copies?" Bartholomew asked.
"I'll take one for sure!" Archie answered.
Bartholomew looked at the others, who avoided eye contact with him, "Just one it is."
A book floated from the pile and flipped open its' cover. A black quill jumped from its inkwell and prepared to write, "Who should I make this out to?"
"Archimedes Antonopoulos"
Bartholomew's blue eyes lit up, "Archimedes you say?"
The floating black quill over the book began to scribble before the book snapped closed and floated over to Archie.
"Three sickles," Bartholomew requested.
"Yes sir," Archie replied, reaching into his pocket.
"If this is your first time reading one of my books, I must warn you that they can be a little lively" Bartholomew confessed.
"I've read Magical History Brought to Life Part 2 nine times from cover to cover! Or should I say I lived it! I love your chapter on dragons and the Warlock's Convention of 1709!"
"It was quite the chapter," Bartholomew admitted. He seemed flattered by the young pupil, "You seem to have the makings of a young historian yourself."
"I am enthusiastic to put it lightly," Archie said.
"More like obsessed," Abigail whispered.
Archie looked down at his freshly signed copy, "I do have some questions though."
"Name it my dear boy," Bartholomew encouraged.
"Well," Archie said, "I wonder how it all works. I mean one moment you're sitting in a chair and the next moment you are watching Godric Gryffindor creating the sorting hat or Edgar Strouglar inventing the Sneakoscope."
The corner of Bartholomew's lip rose in a sly grin, "Normally I would say, 'trade secret' but I don't think I could deny a young wizard the opportunity to learn a thing or two."
"Oh he's not a," Abigail started but was cut off as an elbow jabbed into her ribs by Theo.
Bartholomew looked at Abigail before his blue eyed gaze fell back onto Archie, "Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?"
"It's a way for wizards to siphon thoughts," Archie answered.
"Exactly," Bartholomew continued as he pulled out his wand and tapped it to his head once, "A wizard simply has to pull a memory or a thought from his head and place it into a Pensieve. Then he or she can relive any moment they want. In my book each page is like its' own Pensieve already loaded with the memories of others, just waiting for you to live them."
"But all those wizards are dead with the exception of Flemel. How could you get their memories?"
"Well now, that's the question isn't it?" Bartholomew said with an added wink. Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he pulled out a small medallion and handed it to Archie. It was a round gold disk with a dragon on one side and Chinese characters on the other.
Theo leaned in to get a better look, "What is it?"
Bartholomew leaned forward, "That is a four hundred year old medallion of a Chinese Fireball. It belonged to famous dragonologist…"
"Quong Po," Archie said.
"Merlin's Beard, you are quite the sharp lad," Bartholomew replied, "Yes, that is a personal item that belonged to Quong Po. And if I do this…" Bartholomew pressed the tip of his wand to the medallion and whispered "Vitae Faraham" before slowly pulling the wand away from the gold dragon medallion. From the tip of the willow wand a grey wisp slowly came out.
Timothee whispered, "It's a memory…"
"Imprint, I like to call it but there you have it," Bartholomew said triumphantly. With a wave of his wand, the memory vanished into the medallion.
"Thank you," Archie said and handed the medallion back, "Can I ask one more question?"
An old crotchety wizard tapped Archie on the shoulder with his cane, "Boy you've been at it for fortnight! I have a book that needs signing!"
"I'll be really quick! I promise!" Archie said.
"Real quick," Bartholomew promised the old wizard.
Archie turned back to the wizard historian, "What happened to Part 1?"
Bartholomew's smile faded, "Destroyed."
"Destroyed, but why?" Archie asked.
"The Ministry of magic deemed my book dangerous and had every copy destroyed."
"But why? Why would they destroy a book?" Archie pleaded.
"Come now boy," Bartholomew said as he waived Archie away, "I have books I need signing."
"But," Archie asked as the old wizard behind him worked his way in front of Archie.
Grabbing his book, he led the others away from the table.
"Can you believe that? They destroyed his first book!" Archie said, turning back to the others as they walked towards the front door.
"Strange," Theo noted.
"Strange yes," Abigail added, "But how does that help us with our 'curse' problem?"
Archie's bewilderment grew, "Uh… well… I am not sure. Maybe we head over to Katrina's Candies and mull it over?"
"Sounds good to me," Theo said.
"I could always go back," Abigail grinned.
Archie turned to Timothee, "What about you? Maybe we can get some Pumpkin Pasties?"
"I… I… I don't know," Timothee replied distractedly. He grabbed for his chest and gave it a light squeeze, "I'll be back," and walked back towards Bartholomew.
"Timothee!" Theo called.
Timothee shouted over his shoulder, "You guys go ahead to Katrina's Candies. I'll meet you there."
Timothee waited until the last person in line had his or her book signed before walking to Bartholomew who began to pack up his things. With a wave of his wand, the books and table zipped into a large chest in the corner of the room.
"Monsieur Bartholomew," He asked timidly.
"Yes," Bartholomew said turning around.
"I have a question."
"You were with the Archimedes boy? If it's about my book, I say no more!"
Timothee placed a hand over the rings under his shirt, "No, it's not that. I was wondering if you could pull memories from any object?"
Bartholomew nodded his head from side to side as he mulled it over, "I must admit that there are some objects that are difficult to pull memories from, especially those with enchantments. And I find that if an object is a fake or didn't belong to the witch or wizard that I was looking for that I either get nothing or the memories of some less notable wizard or witch. I once bought some hairs from a merchant in Wiltshire who said they were from Merlin's beard. To my disappointment they were back hairs from a forest troll." Bartholomew said as he wiped his brow.
Timothee bit his lip as he pulled his silver chain over his head and exposed two gold rings, "Could you, um, pull a memory from these?"
Bartholomew leaned forward and looked at the two rings, "Is it a family heirloom of sorts? I hate to say it but most relics are fakes."
"They belonged to my parents," Timothee replied, "They. They aren't here anymore."
"Oh," Bartholomew said.
Timothee stood in silence holding the rings in his palm. He looked down at the tarnished gold and worn stones.
"Come with me to my office," Bartholomew offered with an extended hand.
Timothee walked towards the door at the back of the bookstore that Bartholomew had walked through earlier.
"That's not my office," Bartholomew said.
"It's not?" Timothee asked looking around.
"Right this way," Bartholomew answered, as he walked over to the chest and lifted the top. He stepped into it and slowly disappeared inside as if he were going down a flight of stairs.
Timothee walked over to the chest and peered down a long row of stone steps and placed his foot inside. His shoes tapped against the stone staircase as he made his way down one by one until reached the final level. Looking around, Timothee saw piles and piles of what he could only describe as junk. Old knick knacks and odd totems filled rows of shelves and book cases and formed small piles on the ground. There was a large golden chandelier placed on an old wooden dining table and a broken broom draped over a chair.
Bartholomew looked around, "Like I said, most of the stuff people offer doesn't have any historical significance at all."
Bartholomew passed a stack of his books, "I sell these in order to purchase more objects for my next book."
In the back of the office was an intricately designed stand made from iron bars. The iron was twisted, bent and looped and reminded Timothee of an old willow tree. At the top was a large bowl that was reflective like a mirror.
"Is that the Pensieve?" Timothee asked.
Bartholomew nodded and waived him over.
Timothee peered inside the silver bowl and saw a swirling liquid with all the painted colors of a nebula. Blues, pinks and greens floated dreamily in a sea of black.
Timothee handed over the rings to Bartholomew who already had his willow wand out.
Grabbing the rings, the old wizards' blue eyes studied the golden loops, "A center stone of red, accented with white stones and a center stone of blue, accented with the same. Which one would you like me to pull from?"
Timothee never thought of it, never believed that he would be given this opportunity.
"Well?" Bartholomew asked.
"I…" Timothee said, "The red was my father's and the blue was my mother's."
"How about we start with the red then?" Bartholomew suggested.
Timothee agreed.
Placing his wand on the red ruby, Bartholomew whispered "Vitae Faraham" before delicately pulling his wand from the ring, "I find that the older the imprint, the more delicate it seems to be. If you are not careful, you can tear the memory in half and loose it forever." His blue eyes stayed focused on the wispy memory as it was drawn from the ring and released over the pensive. The memory fluttered down like a feather before settling and dissolving in the Pensieve. As soon as it was gone, the water began to churn and bubble.
"After you," Bartholomew waved.
"How does it work?" Timothee asked.
"All you have to do is look in."
Timothee placed a hand on either side of the silver bowl and slowly leaned his face in. Without warning he felt the sudden rush of falling as he hurtled deeper and deeper into the memory. It felt as if he was falling through the clouds before he landed in a room he did not recognize. It was a living room similar to that of his grandmother's. A small blonde toddler played with a stuffed brown bear.
"Un, deux, trois," The bear said.
"Un, deux, trois!" The toddler shrieked and clapped.
"That's Ursa and he can talk," Timothee realized, "And that's…me."
There was a loud creak from the stairwell behind him and he turned around.
"Papa!" The small boy shouted as a tall man with a slender nose and pronounced jaw came down the stairs. His eyes were blue with flecks of green and around his finger he had a gold band with a red stone.
"Father," Timothee whispered. He looked so real as if he could reach out and touch him.
"My boy!" Édouard said as he walked into the living room, grabbed his infant son, and picked him up, "you grow bigger everyday!"
Timothee watched as his father held him with a love, joy, and pride he could never have imagined.
"Time for lunch," A woman called as she exited the kitchen and entered the living room. She kissed her husband and took their infant son from him. They walked into the dining area together with the stuffed bear following behind.
"Mom," Timothee whispered as he placed a hand in his blonde hair that was just like hers. He hurried behind them into the dining room where a beautiful spread of roasted chicken and vegetables were laid out.
Timothee watched his family together as they enjoyed their meal. He smiled when his mom gave up on trying to feed him when his infant self demanded to be fed by Ursa and he took notice that his father liked to read the muggle newspaper at the table.
To hear their voices for the first time, to see them alive and how they loved each other so much filled his soul with a piece that had been missing for years. It was no longer a story from his grandmother or some moving picture that only showed a small fleeting moment. This was his mother and father alive, as they had actually been in everyday life. They discussed their work as Aurors and Timothee couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, pride in who they were and what they did.
It wasn't long before his Mother cleared her plate and left the room.
Timothee's father, Édouard, pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it to a candle in the middle of the table. Looking back into the kitchen, he checked to make sure his wife was still preoccupied.
"Timothee," He whispered in an attempt to get his son's attention.
"Yes?" Timothee answered even though his father couldn't hear him.
He observed the small toddler look away from the bear and watch as his Father flicked his wand. The candle in the center of dining table ignited.
"Avem Ignis" Édouard whispered and waved his wand over the flame.
The small fire shuttered before a miniature phoenix of flame soared and flew into the air. It made a small screeching sound as it climbed towards the ceiling and then dove by tucking its' flaming orange and yellow wings. Before hitting the table, the small bird opened its' wings and climbed high into the room where it circled around the ceiling light.
The toddler went wild at the sight of the bird and pointed his small pink finger as the phoenix flew around the room.
"You see my son? This is how magic should be. It should always be beautiful," Édouard whispered as she placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Many will use their talents for their own gains but always remember that it is our responsibility to use our gifts for beautiful things, to help and to love."
"Papa! Oiseau!" The child shouted again as he made a high pitched squeal of joy. "Look Ursa! Oiseau!"
"Édouard!" Christiane yelled from the kitchen, "You better not be starting fires in my dining room! Last time you set our curtains on fire!"
"No mon amour!" Édouard called back innocently as he flicked his wand and the fiery phoenix disappeared into a wisp of smoke.
Édouard turned back to his infant son and held a finger to his mouth, making a shushing gesture. The young child copied his father by raising his finger in the same manner. Édouard smiled at his son's mimicry and leaned over and kissed him on the top of his head. "I love you," He whispered before standing from the table.
Timothee wiped a tear from his cheek and whispered, "I love you too..."
He felt a sudden pull from the base of his stomach, "No!" He shouted, "I am not ready to go!" but no matter what he did, he felt himself being lifted away faster and faster from the room as it disappeared into rolling clouds.
With a sudden jerk of his body, Timothee found himself gripping either side of the pensive, looking at the swirling liquid below. Timothee immediately began to lean back into the pensive but he felt a hand grab his shoulder to stop him.
"I want to go back," Timothee protested.
"You shouldn't," Bartholomew replied.
"I need to go back!" Timothee demanded.
"A wise wizard once said, 'it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.' I tell myself that every time I view these memories of days gone by," Bartholomew explained as he pulled the memory from the Pensieve and herded it back into the ring with the red stone. Taking the rings and silver chain, he poured them into Timothee's palm, "That memory will be with you always."
Timothee squeezed the rings before pulling the necklace over his head. He turned and walked back to the grey stone stair case and stopped.
"Why did you do this for me?" Timothee asked.
"You are Timothee Partée are you not?" Bartholomew said, "Son of Édouard and Christiane Partée? I recognized your father. He saved my life."
Timothee turned from the stairs, "You knew my father?"
"Knew him? No," Bartholomew confessed, "But I did meet him once. He was a great wizard who was willing to give up a lot for those he loved. He was after something very dangerous. Something that could change our world as we know it."
"What was it?" Timothee asked.
Bartholomew sighed, "That might be a story for another time."
"You said he saved you?"
"He did."
"Then help me. Did he die because of what he was after?"
"I do not know Timothee. I was not there at his end."
Timothee turned to walk up the stairs of the small traveling chest.
"Wait," Bartholomew called.
Timothee stopped in his tracks.
Batholomew waived his wand and a shelf filled with items slowly pulled apart revealing a metal safe. Walking over, he placed his hand on the door and whispered an incantation. There was a loud churning sound of metal pins and levers and the door swung open. Bartholomew grabbed something inside and walked over to Timothee, handing over a small book
"Magical History Brought to Life Part 1" Timothee read aloud.
Bartholomew's big blue eyes locked with Timothee's brown and green eyes, "This book has been barred from the public so you cannot tell anyone you have it. If the ministry finds out that you do have this book it will be destroyed and who knows what will happen to you. I promise you it is the last one in existence but the answer you seek about your father is in there."
"Thank you," Timothee said.
"You must go now," Bartholomew replied.
Timothee walked up the stairs with the sound of his parent's voice still fresh in his mind. The way they loved him still imprinted on his soul. He made his way towards Katrina's Candies where his friends were waiting outside next to Daniel Spoon.
"You lot ready to go?" Daniel asked.
Theo turned to Timothee, "Do you want to get some candy first?"
"No, I am okay," Timothee answered.
"Here," Timothee said, handing the book to Archie.
"You got it!" Archie said excitedly.
"No one can know you have this. I mean no one," Timothee clarified.
"You didn't steal it did you?"
"No. Just promise, okay?"
"Yeah, I promise," Archie swore, "I can't wait to look inside."
"Bartholomew said that there was something about my family in there. You think you could look into it for me?"
Archie nodded, "Of course."
"Alright then, if everybody is ready to go," Daniel said, "Right this way."
He led the teenagers to an alley way where no one could see them and pulled out his tarnished silver spoon. With a small flick of his wand, there was an audible "Pop!" and they were gone.
The ground in Precious Boutique shuttered as the fine china in the room rattled from their arrival. When they appeared, there was a deafening hiss and Timothee had to cover their ears.
"What is that?"Archie yelled to Theo who just shook his head and mouthed, "I can't understand you!"
Abigail ran over to the radio and turned the dial down. A humming sound still vibrated in the air with energy.
"Ugh, that is better!" She said.
"Hey," Abigail said, pointing to Kevin the store clerk. He was sleeping with his elbow on the glass counter and a blue liquid pooled on the glass countertop below. His eyes were closed and he made a light snoring sound.
"Kevin! Hello!" Archie shouted as he waved his hand in front of his face.
Theo walked over and placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder and gave it a light shake but Kevin did not wake.
Abigail dipped her finger in the blue liquid and wafted it, "Wizergen. What is going on?"
"I don't know," Timothee added but when he turned around, he saw Daniel had fallen asleep standing in the spot they had apparated.
"It's the curse," Archie said as he walked over to Daniel and gave him a light shake as well.
Timothee looked around, "Why aren't we asleep then?"
"We took the Wizergen," Abigail answered, "It actually worked!"
Theo pointed towards the store front, "Look outside!"
The group made their way out of Precious Boutiques and onto the sidewalk where most of the town folk stood completely still, sleeping in place. A small child held a floating balloon in one hand and her mother's hand in the other. In the middle of Main Street were two small boys holding the sides of a banner that read, "Witchaven Annual Homecoming Parade."
Archie pointed up, "Look at the sky!"
Colors danced all around them high in the atmosphere like Aurora Borealis. Sheets of neon green, purple and blue, swayed back and forward.
"What do you think caused that?" Theo said.
"It must be the curse," Archie guessed, "Auroras are caused when electrons hit the atmosphere. There must be so much magic in the air that it is charging the sky. That's why the radio was nothing but static."
"But how do we make it stop Arch?" Abigail asked.
"I don't know," Archie answered.
Chapter 13
Thorne and Thistle
"They are all… sleeping." Theo said as he walked through the crowd, examining each person he passed. The citizens of Witchaven lined the streets on either side like statues frozen in time.
"How long do you think they have been like this?" Abigail asked as she walked into the street. The Witchaven High marching band was sleeping in perfect formation with their instruments still in their hands. The drum major slept mid stride with one knee held up and his baton mid twirl.
Archie pointed to a small boy holding a cone filled with melted vanilla ice cream that ran down his fingers and dripped a small pallid puddle on the sidewalk below, "I would say for a while given the state of this ice cream."
"It's like they all just… froze," Theo said, observing a police officer on the sidewalk.
"WHERE IS HE!" a high pitch voice cried out from down the street.
The four teens froze.
"Quick, come here!" Archie whispered to the others.
"Who was that?" Abigail said.
"I DO NOT SEE HIM!" a different high pitched voice shouted a bit closer.
Archie handed out vials of Wizergen, "Here! Quick, take these and then hide amongst the crowd."
"MASTER WILL BE DISPLEASED!" The original voice whined.
"DISPLEASED INDEED! WE WILL BE PUNISHED!"
"OH I HATE PUNISHMENT! I HATE IT I DO!"
The teens downed the vials and stood frozen the best they could amongst the Witchaven townsfolk.
They heard the approaching voices as they got louder and louder. They whined relentlessly as they searched.
"Abigail, stop wiggling your nose!" Archie whispered.
"I can't help it!" She whispered back, "My nose itches!"
"You're going to give us away!" Archie said.
"Shhhh!" Theo hissed, "They are here!"
Timothee barely opened his eyes as two blurry figures no taller than four feet waddled down Witchaven's Main Street. They had large bulbous noses, pointy ears, beady black eyes and bald egg shaped heads. They wore matching outfits and looked identical in their dirty brown vests and shredded white under shirts. Their pants were also shredded and they were barefoot as they walked around with long curled toenails.
"They look like goblins," Timothee thought as he opened one eye but something about them didn't look quite right. They were taller than your typical goblin and the shape of their heads seemed different. They're appearance was like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit quite right.
"Master will be so displeased, so displeased!" The first goblin wailed.
"Shut up! We will find the child!" The second goblin jeered.
The first goblin turned his head to the second, "This was our chance! This was our chance to do right by Master."
"Shut up I said! We will find the child," The second replied looking into the crowds.
"We've been up and down these streets for an hour! He is not here!"
"He is here! Master said he will be here and Master is never wrong!"
"Then why haven't we," The first goblin started but stopped as his gaze peered over his counterpart.
Timothee snapped his eye shut as he made eye contact with the beady black eyes, "Stupid! Stupid!" He thought, "Why did I have to look? Why did I have to look?"
"There! Right there!" One of the goblins said.
With his eyes closed, Timothee could not distinguish who was talking.
Their voice got closer and more excited, "Yes! It is the child! Master will be so pleased with our work! Master will reward us ten times over."
"Quick grab him and let's go!"
"Petrificus Totalus!" reverberated through the air.
Timothee felt his whole body freeze up as his eyes shot open. He slowly felt himself fall backwards but was unable to catch himself. He tried to scream as he fell back but there was nothing he could do. He braced himself for the pain he would undoubtedly feel from hitting the hard concrete that rushed up towards him.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" The second creature casted. In that instant, Timothee went from falling to floating as his body hovered in the air.
The goblin that had conjured the floating spell, tucked his wand into his vest pocket and led Timothee into the street.
"Time to go back!" The first goblin grinned. His row of gleaming white teeth glistened in the setting sun.
Timothee's heart was beating at a mile a minute as he did everything in his power to try and free himself from the curse but his efforts yielded no success.
"Where are they taking me?" He wondered, "And what does this Master want with me?"
He tried to cry out for help, "Please! Archie, Theo, Abigail! Anyone! Please don't let them take me!" but his words only came out as, "HhhhhhhMMMmmmmmmHHhhhmmmmm!"
"Wait!" Theo shrieked, bursting from the crowd and into the street.
Abigail and Archie jumped out from behind him.
Abigail took a step forward, "You can't take him!" Her black skeleton key secure in her right balled fist.
The first goblin turned to the teenagers, "They do not sleep?"
"They do not sleep at all," The second goblin said.
The first goblin pointed towards his chest, "I am Thistle and he is Thorne!"
"I am Thorne and he is Thistle!" The second goblin repeated.
"Who are you?" They asked in unison.
Theo started, "I'm Theo. This is Abigail and Archie and we can't let you take our friend."
"Who is this friend?" Thorne asked.
Archie pointed to the rigid floating body, "Timothee, you have him in your spell."
Thistle leaned in, "I think they mean the child."
"Master wants this child," Thorne yelled back, "And Master gets what master wants!"
Thistle and Thorne turned to walk away with Timothee.
Theo turned to Archie and Abigail, "What do we do? We can't just let them take him!"
"Quick," Archie said, "What wizard money do you have left?"
Abigail reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pile of coins, "Two galleons, ten sickles and five knuts."
"Theo?" Archie asked.
"Four sickles and twelve knuts," He answered.
"Okay, I have one galleon, two sickles and five knuts. We need to pool them together," Archie strategized as he grabbed the others' coins. He turned back around, "Thorne! Thistle!"
"Leave us alone child!" Thorne called back.
"We must get back to the Master!" Thistle added.
"I have gold!" Archie shouted, as he held up the coins in his hands. He gave the coins a shake so that they made noise.
Thorne and Thistle stopped in their tracks.
"We will pay you for our friend!" Archie offered.
"Hmmm…" Thorne hummed.
"Gold," Thistle said as he turned around. A twinkle in his eye had appeared.
"I read once that goblins love gold," Archie said, "So my offer, gold for our friend."
"Yuk. Goblins he called us," Thorne said.
"Goblins we are not!" Thistle hollered back, "We are troblins!"
"Troblins?" Archie asked, walking closer to Thorne and Thistle with Theo and Abigail close behind, "I've never heard of troblins before."
"Master made us from Trolls and Goblins," Thorne explained.
"Made us master did," Thistle said proudly.
"Fine," Archie said, "Do we have a deal then? Gold for our friend? Surely troblins such as yourselves like gold?"
"No deal!" Thorne shouted.
"No indeed!" Thistle followed, "This child belongs to the Master!"
Thorne and Thistle began to turn back around.
"What about a wager?" Theo blurted out.
The Troblins turned, this time, the hint of excitement grew.
"Wager he says Thistle?" Said Thorne.
Thistle grinned, "Wager he wants Thorne."
"Wager he should get Thistle. We can have the boy and the gold. Master will be doubly so pleased,"
Thistle pointed a long finger with a curled pointy nail at Theo, "Alright wizard! Wager it is! Wager we play. For gold and the boy! Winner gets both but Thorne and Thistle gets to name the game!"
"Agreed?" Thorne added.
Abigail looked at Theo and Archie, "Are we actually going to do this?"
Theo whispered, "Do we have any other choice?"
"Go for it," Archie said confidently, "We need to get Timothee back."
"Deal!" Theo answered.
"What should be our game?" Said Thorne with a pointy grin.
"Hmmmm," Thistle hummed as he stroked a long nail against the bottom of his chin, "Quodpod? Gobstones? Explonding Snap? All could win us the wager Thorne."
"Win indeed," Thorne said, "Wizard Skittles, Snitch Snatcher and Wizard's Chess has never failed us either Thistle."
The two goblins began making harsh rasping sounds to one another. They would look at the three teenagers before going back to the guttural sounds.
"What are they doing?" Abigail asked.
"I think it is Gobbledegook," Archie said.
"Gobbledegook?" Abigail repeated.
"It's Goblin language," Archie explained.
Archie looked at Timothee who continued to make small mumbling sounds, "How many of those games have you played Theo?"
"Me?" Theo said nervously, "Why do you assume I've played those games? You're the brain."
"Didn't the kids at Salem play wizarding games?" Archie asked.
Theo rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, yeah, some games but it has been so long that I don't remember half of them."
"Well we need to be ready for whatever they come up with," Abigail insisted, holding up her black key, "No matter what, we don't let them take Timothee. Even if it comes to a fight."
Theo pulled out his pen, "Got it."
"Oh great, what am I going to use?" Archie said, "I can't do magic!"
"I don't know, but you will think of something," Abigail said. She looked back at the Goblins to make sure they were still conversing, "No matter what."
"No matter what," The other two repeated.
"We have it!" Thorne and Thistle shouted.
"Well, what is it?" Theo asked.
"We will play the oldest of the goblin games!" Thistle said.
"The Game of Names!" Thorne shrieked.
"How does it work?" Archie asked.
"Guess who's Thistle!" Said Thorne.
"Guess who's Thorne!" Said Thistle.
There were two loud popping sounds as the troblins disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared moments later in the same spot.
"Get it right!" Said the first troblin.
"And get your reward!" Said the second troblin.
"Warning though!" Said the first troblin.
There was another set of loud pops as the troblins disapperated for a second time, and apparated behind the teenagers.
"Three tries only or the reward is ours!" Said the two troblins in unison.
"Easy!" Abigail said. She took a step forward and pointed to the troblin on the right, "you're Thistle!" She pointed to the Troblin on the left, "you're Thorne!"
"Wrong!" They shouted back in unison.
"What are you doing?" Theo said.
"It's simple. Now all you have to do is guess the opposite," Abigail explained.
"Brilliant," Archie realized. He turned back to the troblins and just as he began to point, they disappeared and reappeared in the same exact spot, "Uh oh…"
"What's wrong?" Abigail asked.
Archie's eyes darted from left to right as he tried to find any minutia of change, "I don't know if they swapped locations or stayed in the same spot."
The two Troblins locked arms and began to dance in a circle and sing:
"Two guesses left! It's the oldest game.
Goblins dance and goblins sing.
Rumpelstiltskin was the first to play.
But he lost, not us today!
Grashkesh Grakki Hashka Hee!
Eshka, Lokesh, Tershka Ree!"
There were two loud pops and the troblins disappeared again, this time emerging back in the original spot they had appeared.
"Your second guess! Now!" The first troblin demanded.
Archie turned to the others, "What should I do?"
"Okay," Said Abigail, "Archie you guess slowly and then Theo, make sure you guess before they have a chance to change spots. I'll try to distract them after Archie's guess so they can't disapparate again. Got it?"
"Got it" The other two boys said.
Archie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Come on boy!" Said the troblin on the left, "We don't have all day. Master is waiting for us."
Archie pointed to the troblin on the left, "You're Thistle… and… you're…" He slowly swayed his finger to the other Troblin, "Thorne…"
"Wrong!" The troblins shouted, "Only one guess!"
"Now!" Shouted Abigail as she made a hard pitching motion towards a parked car. There was a loud, "Woosh!" and the sound of shattering glass as the front windshield exploded in a million pieces.
"You're Th…" Theo started as he pointed to the troblin on the right.
The head of the troblin to the left shot back at the two teenagers, "Ah, ah!" he said as he whipped out his wand and gave it a blindingly fast flick.
Before Theo could finish his first guess, there was a loud, "Bang!" and everything went grey.
Abigail, Archie and Theo began to cough as they tried to wave the smoke away from their face. Each breath was a struggle with the burning inside their lungs.
A troblin's voice called from beyond the smoke, "Clever child!"
"Clever indeed Thorne!" Thistle shouted back.
There were two loud pops from beyond the smoke.
"One more!" The troblins shouted.
"Well there goes that plan," Archie wheezed.
"Looks like we are in for a fight," Abigail rasped, "I really thought that would work."
"Maybe we offer a trade?" Archie proposed in short gasps, "I take Timothee's place? That way we have three wizards versus the troblins?"
"I got an idea," Theo coughed.
"What is it?" Archie asked. His eyes squinted from the burning smoke.
Theo walked towards the troblins mumbling to himself, "Aw man, Timothee you better do my homework for the rest of the year if this works."
Theo emerged from the smoke rubbing his eyes. Abigail and Archie were close behind. They all let out small puttering coughs as the cloud of smoke was carried away with the wind.
"Good luck," Archie said.
Theo calmly turned to Archie and smiled, "Let's see what happens partner. I'm the fastest gun in the west."
"What are you talking about?" Archie asked.
Theo hunched his shoulders, "This town ain't big enough for the two of us."
Abigail turned to Archie and mouthed, "What's wrong with him?"
"I don't know," Archie mouthed back.
"Have at it boy!" The troblin on the left demanded.
"One guess left and the gold is ours!" The troblin on the right shouted with glee, "Oh Master will be so pleased. So pleased!"
Theo took a wide stance and began to walk forward like a cowboy in a western and asked, "How fast are ya?"
The two troblins exchanged a glance of bewilderment.
"I reckon we're done talking," Theo growled.
"I think the wizard boy grows tired of our game," The first troblin said.
"I think the wizard boy wants to duel," The second troblin added.
Their beady black eyes glistened and reflected the dancing northern lights above. Their teeth were small and pointed like shark teeth and their long fingers danced over their vest pockets.
"Draw!" Theo shouted as he held out his hand like a gun and yelled, "Bang! Bang!"
The two troblins drew their wands and fired two white funnels of light that hit Theo square in the chest. The young wizard flew back through the air ten feet and landed on his back.
Abigail and Archie ran back to Theo who was groaning as he rolled on the ground.
"Come on boy! We grow tired of your game!" Said the troblin on the left.
"Your last guess, now!" The troblin on the right demanded.
Timothee, let out a "Hmmmmhhmmmm" as he floated in the air.
Theo got to his feet and pointed to the Troblin on the left, "You're…You're… You're…" But before he could finish his guess, his face turned green.
"I think he's going to be sick," Abigail said.
Theo leaned forward and puked out a long slimy green slug. The slime was clear with black and grey specks in it.
"Oh gosh, a Slug-vomiting charm." Archie said as he held Theo's hand. He noticed a tar black liquid that had rubbed onto his palm, "Theo you're a genius!" He thought quietly.
Theo stood up and pointed to the troblins, "You're Thistle, and you are Thorne…" He said just before another slug came oozing from his mouth.
The two troblins exchanged a glance of utter terror.
"NO!" Said Thistle.
"This can't be!" Said Thorne, "We never lose Game of Names!"
"Again!" Said Thistle.
There were two loud puffs and the two Troblins appeared.
"Thorne, Thistle!" Theo said.
"Again!" They shouted and disapparated and apparated.
Theo pointed to the Troblin on the right, "Thistle" Then the left, "Thorne,"
"Again!"
"Thistle, Thorne!" Theo said as another slug came spewing out. His face was lime green and he wiped the oozy slime from his lips, "It's disgusting."
The Troblins tried three more times and each time, Theo was able to guess correctly.
"Nooo!" Thorne cried, looking up to the heavens.
"Master will punish us," Thistle whined.
"Punish us," Thorne repeated.
"Come on!" Abigail demanded, "You promised to give our friend back! You made a wager and you have to honor it!"
"Take him!" Thistle shouted and waved his wand.
Timothee was free again as he floated back to the ground.
"Mark my words wizards! This is not the last you've dealt with Thistle and Thorne!" Said Thistle.
"Not the last at all of Thorne and Thistle!" Thorne berated.
Timothee ran towards his friends.
Abigail pointed towards Precious Boutiques, "Quick, back to the shop just in case they come back."
They ran inside, all the while, slugs slowly spewing form Theo's mouth. Theo made a small whimper before gagging out another slug. This time it was auburn with a yellow stripe down the side.
Timothee grabbed a finely crafted crystal vase with a diamond pattern etched around the sides, "Here, use this."
"Thank…you…" Theo sniveled.
"How did you know?" Abigail asked.
"Luck," Theo said.
Timothee shook his head, "But you got it right so many times?"
Archie grabbed Theo's hand and held it up for the others to see. There was black ink all over his palms, "Liquid Luck," He explained.
"You drank your ink pen?" Timothee said.
Theo nodded queasily, "I thought it was the grossest thing I've tasted… I was wrong." He gasped as he leaned forward and vomited a hunter green slug.
"Merci," Timothee thanked as he hugged Theo, "But how did you know?"
"It was their wands," Theo explained, "For some reason, when I drank the Felix Felices, I felt the urge to duel them. Thorne's wand came from a Hawthorn tree and Thistles came from a Pine tree. Pine thistle is a plant. I saw it in the Wandlore painting from Bonez's shop. When they had their wands' drawn, I could distinguish the two. Thorne had hawthorn and Thistle had pine thistle. It was the only distinguishable difference between them."
In that moment the subtle hum in the air stopped and the town awoke. The Witchaven High School marching band started to play as the chatter from the crowd that lined the street resumed.
Daniel's head lifted up as he looked around the room, "Merlin's beard, what happened?"
"Goblins," Timothee said, "Well actually it was Troblins."
"Troblins?" Daniel replied.
"Can you help our friend?" Abigail asked.
"What's wrong with him?"
Just then another slug, a particularly large slug, was slimily spewed from Theo's pale green face.
"Ha!" Daniel laughed, "Haven't seen that in years."
With a simple wave of his spoon the slugs stopped coming and the color slowly began to return to Theo's face.
"Thank you," Archie said.
Daniel nodded and vanished.
There was a loud, "Clank!" followed by a long, "Ow!" from Kevin.
"Looks like things are back to normal," Archie said.
Theo, Timothee and Abigail looked at Archie in disbelief.
Archie hunched his shoulders, "Normal-ish?"
