They talked as long into the night as they were able before the Mr and Mrs Crundle separated them and sent them firmly to their respective bedrooms. Afterwards, Miranda lay awake for many long hours. She had a lot to try to make sense of. Katie tended to forget that neither she nor David knew anything at all about Oldenwold. She had chatted on about people, places, events and all sorts of things they’d never even heard of. As a result, Miranda’s recollection of her story was fuzzy and incomplete. If Miranda didn’t know that her parents would storm in immediately, she would have turned the light on. She would have loved to write it all down – just to put Katie’s story together properly.
Katie had told them she had come to Drivell – to Commonwold – through a Shimmer. A Shimmer, it seemed, was a kind of wobbly translucent doorway that only the trained eye could spot. Miranda wanted to know much more about these doorways between their world and Katie’s, but Katie had been dismissive. It was as though Shimmers were no more special than a simple revolving door. On the other hand, Katie had raved rather a lot about Falken, the leader of the Resistance. Miranda suspected Katie had a slight crush on the bloke. Falken had sent her to Drivell for her own safety, although Miranda was not completely clear on why Katie was in danger. Katie had mentioned something about being harder to track down in Commonwold. Miranda still wasn’t sure why anyone wanted to track down jolly, plump thirteen year old Katie Pickerwick.
Miranda realized that she didn’t even know whether Katie lived with her parents or Falken or someone else in Oldenwold. She had mentioned an aunt and uncle, but Miranda couldn’t remember her saying anything about a mum or dad.
Once in Drivell, Katie had been under Falken’s instructions to look for the Polish. The Polish were, apparently, trained to deal with appearances and disappearances. This was rather an astonishing statement to both of them, but David had soon realized that Katie was talking about the Police. Katie quickly insisted that police was what she’d said, and then muttered, “Police – Polish, Polish – Police,” under her breath several times. Miranda had tactfully hidden a grin. She’d often noticed that Katie got words wrong. Now she understood why.
Katie’s story was fantastic – unbelievable, even. The scientist in Miranda whispered that sorcery and magic were not possible, and that Katie could not be right in her head. It was quite apparent that she was in earnest. If Katie wasn’t telling the truth, then at least she herself thought she was. Miranda had never known anyone who was truly bonkers before, but she wondered now if Katie was unhinged. She didn’t really fit the description. Miranda looked closely at Katie for signs that she had been dribbling, gibbering, or tearing at her hair. There were none. When Miranda looked at David, she could see that he also believed what Katie was saying. And they had both seen enough of Katie’s “weak” Commonwold magic to be convinced.
Miranda was pretty sure that Katie was somehow a member of the Resistance she talked so much about. How a child came to be part of a Resistance was beyond her. She had no idea what exactly a Resistance did, but the word conjured images of spies, weapons and dangerous secret missions. Of course, in a magical world such as this Oldenwold place was supposed to be, there would probably be less in the way of swords and guns, and more in the way of wands and spells. But it still sounded very grown up and unpleasant to Miranda.
Miranda rolled over in bed fitfully. The next part of the conversation with Katie had disturbed her. She pictured David’s enthusiastic face as he’d asked, “What can we do to help the Resistance?”
“Whoa,” Miranda had exclaimed. “Just wait a bit, David. We don’t have any magical powers – except perhaps for attracting odd people,” she added. Fortunately, Katie had failed to catch her meaning. “There’s no way we could defend ourselves against sorcery if we were to try to help.”
“Actually,” Katie put in, “you probably do have some magic. Most people do.”
David’s jaw dropped.
“No way!” he breathed. “Are you serious? Even me?”
“Very likely.”
David had promptly pointed his hands at a pile of books on the table and waggled his fingers as he squinted at the books furiously, hissing “Abracadabra!” Miranda winced, but Katie had laughed uproariously.
“What was that?” she spluttered. “Abracadabra? You call that sorcery?”
“Well, I don’t know, do I?” he muttered, reddening.
“We can work on your sorcery another time,” she said kindly, repressing her laughter. “We’ve got more important things to worry about right now. The Resistance is trying to save Oldenwold from being swallowed up by Commonwold.”
“How ghastly,” Miranda said, her mind racing over the idea. “Think of all the magic that will be lost forever…”
“Think of all the lives that will be lost!” Katie interrupted. “You think wee folk will survive in Commonwold? Not likely! Faeries, elves, goblins, leprechauns – they’ll all die out. They’re already endangered species in Oldenwold. Not to mention the sorcerers who just couldn’t live in Commonwold. They wouldn’t know where to begin without their sorcery. Trying to get a job, make money, go shopping – it would be a disaster. They’d end up out on the street, homeless, sick, miserable…” Katie’s eyes were full of anguish.
David and Miranda glanced at each other.
“Well,” David said again, ignoring Miranda’s expression of alarm, “what do we need to do to help you?”
“Right now, I’ve got to do one thing only, and that’s get a message to Falken.”
“Falken?” said David blankly.
“Really, David, keep up,” snapped Miranda. “The leader of the Resistance.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said quickly. “What message?”
“I need to tell him that I saw Wendyn Wallow and she saw me.”
While this conversation had gone on, Katie had played absently with her wand. David had dropped a pile of crumbs into the Fix-it pouch and pull out a good sized chunk of biscuit with a triumphant grin. Miranda felt quite rattled inside just remembering these details. Then they’d been interrupted by Mr Crundle, calling them downstairs to dinner. Miranda hastily asked Katie how she intended to get her message to Falken. Katie had admitted that there had really been no thought that she would need to send a message to Oldenwold.
“Falken said they would come for me when they were ready. Everyone just expected I would be safe and sound here. I don’t have any of the things I need to get a message to him – securely. I’m going to have to go myself,” she’d added bravely. She told them that Shimmers appeared quite regularly around Drivell, and she could be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Miranda had unpleasant visions of trying to explain Katie’s absence to their parents.
“Pull your fingers out, you lot!” Mr Crundle called. “This tofu and lentil loaf isn’t going to eat itself, you know!”
“Don’t we know it,” David had muttered as they went down to dinner.
* * *
At school the next day, Miranda found it impossible to concentrate. Her head was full of Katie’s story. In the very normal daylight, sitting in the very normal school classroom, the whole thing felt like a strange dream. When she saw Katie slip a broken pencil into her Fix-it pouch and pull it out whole and sharpened, Miranda felt a kind of nasty shock to remember that the events of yesterday had really happened. She felt the strap of her shoe under her desk. There were the neat little stitches where yesterday there had been a clean, unbroken strap. It was no good denying it – there was indeed a magical place called Oldenwold and Katie did indeed plan to return there.
Miranda found herself wondering more about one thing than anything else – and that one thing was why Katie had been sent to Commonwold. As soon as Katie had told her that she was in Commonwold for her safety, Miranda had smelt a rat. Her instincts told her that there was another reason Katie was there. Her questioning mind switched into high gear as she scrawled down possibilities in her file, pretending to copy Miss Goody’s neat script off the chalkboard. As far as Miranda could make out, there were only two real reasons the Resistance might want to send Katie to Commonwold. One was that she was a spy. However, Miranda could not think of even one thing that Katie might learn from living with the Crundles or attending Oodles that would be useful in Oldenwold. She quickly discarded that possibility, and turned to her next reason – namely, that Katie was a danger to the Resistance. Perhaps she had information which could endanger the work of the Resistance. Or perhaps she knew something about this Edistein that he did not want anyone to know. That might put Katie herself in danger. Miranda thought the latter was more plausible. She circled it once or twice with a thoughtful air.
It felt like the day dragged on for weeks. Miranda could hardly wait to see David and discuss her ideas with him and Katie. They managed to get through Miss Goody’s lesson with only two reprimands – one for Miranda when caught staring fixedly out the window, and one for Katie’s suggestion that the Battle of Hastings was called such because it was fought “with haste.” At last the bell rang for the final time and Miranda and Katie were released from the gates of Oodles.
“I’ve got some things I need to do,” Katie told Miranda as they crossed the road. “Will you tell the Crundles I’ve gone to the library?”
“Yes, all right, but what about Wendyn Wallow?” said Miranda, dropping her voice. “What if she comes after you again?”
“I don’t think she knows where to find me,” Katie answered. “It was just an unlucky chance that we ran into her at the park yesterday.”
“You know, we were wearing our school blazers, so she could find us if she wanted to,” Miranda reminded her, but Katie was already setting off. “Be careful,” Miranda called after her.
She met David at the gate and wasted no time sharing her theories on why Katie was in Commonwold. He considered her words thoughtfully.
“I don’t think she’s a spy,” he said at last. “She’s not the type.”
“Well, I think that’s the point of being a spy, though,” Miranda replied. “Not looking like a spy, I mean.”
“Yeah, okay, but come on, Miranda – Katie? A spy? Spies are supposed to notice things. Katie wouldn’t know if her own backside was on fire. Spies are supposed to blend in. She doesn’t come anywhere near blending in.”
“All right, what about my other idea? That she knows something that makes her dangerous to the Resistance?”
“I like it,” nodded David. “Good thinking.” Miranda beamed. “But what would she know, do you think?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Miranda,” said David slowly. “Is this real? I keep thinking I’m going bananas. Did we really see what we thought we saw yesterday?”
“I saw a stone…” began Miranda.
“Yes!” exclaimed David. “Jumped off the ground, didn’t it? So, it did happen?”
“Yes,” said Miranda. “And there’s her bag too. The Fix-it pouch.”
“That thing is definitely real. So we can safely say we’re both still sane.”
“I think so. Or both crazy.”
“I want to get another look in Katie’s room,” mused David. “Where did you say she’d gone?”
“She didn’t say,” Miranda replied.
“But she’s not there to guard it, is she?”
“You think we should break in?” Miranda looked doubtful. “She’ll be furious.”
“She doesn’t have to know,” said David. “We’ll be careful. We can leave everything the way it is.”
They had reached home by this stage, and they went inside thoughtfully. Mr Crundle was banging around in his studio in the back garden. When he made a lot of noise like this it meant he was really involved in his sculpting. Miranda could picture him slapping layer after layer of clay enthusiastically onto a deformed-looking figure in the centre of the room, muttering to himself.
“Come on,” decided David. “Let’s go.”
They made their way to Katie’s bedroom and inspected the locks she had on the door. There was a latch and padlock, which David made short work of using one of Miranda’s paperclips. Then they tried the doorknob. Using Miranda’s lunchbox, they caught most of the stream of sauce – this time tomato – that shot out of the keyhole. Of course the door itself was locked, but all the doors in their house could be unlocked with the same key, so Miranda went to fetch the key hanging in the kitchen. She successfully unlocked the door, but when she turned the handle and pushed, the door wouldn’t budge.
“She’s put something behind it,” said David.
“How?” Miranda asked pointedly. “How could she push something behind it when she’s locked it from this side?”
David tried to heave the door open, but it was as though the door were glued shut.
“What on earth…?” he muttered.
He lay on the floor and peered underneath the door.
“I can’t see anything blocking it,” he said, and then suddenly he scrambled up and backed away from the door.
“What?” asked Miranda, surprised.
“There’s someone in there!” he whispered breathlessly.
“Are you sure?” Miranda crouched down and peered under the door. Sure enough, a shadow was moving about in Katie’s room. She could even hear a faint shuffling.
Silently, the two crept onto the landing to confer.
“Could Katie have got home before us?” whispered Miranda.
“She would have come storming out the minute we undid the latch.”
“Well, who could it be, then?”
“What if it’s that woman – Wendyn Wallow?” said David, his face even paler than usual.
Miranda stared. “Do you think it could be, really?” she stuttered. “But how would she have got in?”
“She’s a sorcerer, Miranda,” David reminded her. “I don’t think a couple of poxy locks are going to keep her out.”
“It didn’t sound like a person,” Miranda said slowly. “More like a small animal. And I’ve heard noises at night. Scuffling sounds, all night long. I assumed it was Katie snoring or…I don’t know…building a teepee, or something. But now I wonder if she’s got a pet in there.”
David was visibly relieved.
“I’m surprised Dad hasn’t clocked to it,” he remarked. “He’s allergic to everything hairy known to humankind.”
“Maybe it’s an animal we haven’t seen before,” suggested Miranda. “Something from Oldenwold.”
“I wonder,” mused David.They didn’t have long to wonder. While they were doing their homework at the kitchen table, Katie arrived home.
Stay tuned for instalment #7 next Friday!
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