Avis Blackthorn: Is Not an Evil Wizard! (31 page)

“I’m gonna make you
confess
to what
you did. They will be able to read your mind and see that I am
right.”

“No ones reading my mind,” I said, slowly
putting the mop and bucket down. Ross raised his hands slowly.
“Stop that,” I said. “Put your hands down.”

“I’ll tell all our brothers first. Get some
of Harold’s
truth infusion
, make you confess. Then what do
you think our parents will do about you? Or rather, do
to
you…” He cackled.

“They won’t do anything because I am
innocent. Now put your hands down.”

Ross smiled. “No!” In less than a second, a
bright red chain flew out of his hands at me.

“
Dancidious!
” I called, ducking as the
chains shaved the top of my head. “Stop it Ross!
Stop it!
”
But he wouldn’t. More red chains came flying towards me.
“Dancidious!
Dancidious!
” I called in vain, for it made no
difference! I ducked and dived out of the way. But it was time to
run. I stood up and charged round the corner for the end of the
corridor. There was a short golden flash beneath my eyes, I thought
Ross has got me. But it wasn’t that at all… it was something much
better… my Seven League Shoes, the ones I put on in the carriage
had lit up gold! As I ran, my legs felt different and I noticed
time change around me. It slowed down. I got to the end of the
corridor in the blink of an eye. I turned around and saw Ross, in
slow motion, his face contorted into mad fury, spells fizzing and
popping as they exploded against pictures, expelling plumes of dust
from the floor. Speeding down the next hallway, which was at least
a hundred feet, I put one foot before the next and without thinking
or doing anything, the shoes carried me all the way to the end. It
felt like walking through treacle, little effort was expelled, yet
they carried me that hundred feet in a second. It was magical. The
golden fizzing light died down as the shoes stopped moving,
corridors and hallways had passed me by in a blur… but now I was…
god knows where. It was dark and high up, for the pictures on the
wall were all of magical creatures that we hang in the turrets. How
did I get all the way up here in a matter of seconds? Still, they’d
probably just saved my life.

All I could see was darkness and… an open
door with a faint orange glow. There was no where else to turn so I
walked forwards.

It was one of the turrets, small and dusty,
dim and dark. Facing the fire was a high backed chair. A head of
silvery hair just visible over the top.

“Come in boy,” said a barky voice. I froze,
ice shards splintering my spine. The voice echoed softly around the
turret. “Sit, sit…” beckoned a long bony hand.

Finally
…

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“
Avis
Blackthorn Is Not an Evil Wizard!”
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Jack Simmonds