Clearheart (7 page)

Looking terribly guilty, Ella made a decision. She just wanted to know, feel, see that she was somewhat capable—which she knew she could be, if not in the same way as everyone else in her year. She scooped the shining tear off her lap. Professor Patchouli had never even mentioned the use of the use of tears in Transmogrification, so Ella really didn't want to get caught. Samuel had mentioned tears in Essentials of Magic, but only as
a very, very rare Magical skill.

What had been made clear in Transmogrification was that Shrinkification and Stretchification of objects and people was a very restricted power reserved exclusively to pure Royal Magicals (although there had been rare instances where very powerful Flitterwigs had managed to perform Shrinkification). But Ella could do both of these things, she knew, with the help of her tears, really rather easily. So surely she could use her tears for a little simple Personification.

Ella tipped the tear in her lap onto her finger. She held it out to her glass of water and, taking her left ear between her fingers, stared at the glass intently, muttering the spell on the board under her breath. She was about to tip the tear into her glass when a slight burning up her neck and in her ears made her hesitate. She listened to it at once, of course. It just wasn't right to cheat. Her shoulders slumped as she let the tear roll off her finger and onto the ground. It lay there, shimmering like a tiny crystal marble on the floor.

Gloria Ulnus crossed the room to collect her own glass, which had flown, albeit blindly, to the back of the classroom. ‘Useless,' she hissed in Ella's ear, smirking at Ella's inanimate glass as she passed.

‘I just want to come home, Mother,' Gloria whined into the Waters in the Watertalky room. Cynthia Ulnus, a dark-haired, angular woman with deep brown eyes, stared up at Gloria through the Waters impatiently.

‘I need a decent reason, for Magic's sake, Gloria,' she said, looking at the sundial on her wrist. ‘And quickly.' She tapped her immaculate crimson nails on an antique side-table. ‘I have a D.O.R.C. meeting in ten minutes.'

‘Fine, never mind,' said Gloria, petulantly. Gloria Ulnus's parents were always too busy with the Dryads for Optimum Rights Committee to have any time for her. Despite their vast wealth, all they seemed to care about was the fact that Dryad Flitterwigs weren't allowed to sit in the Upper House during Rooniun Sittings.

‘Come now, don't be silly,' said her mother. ‘I'm listening. Just be quick about it.'

Gloria huffily began to tell her mother about the strange goings-on of the past few weeks. Of how this girl Ella, who was
really mean and nasty, seemed to be doing strange things to her that made her insides hurt. Of how she couldn't remember anything afterwards and how her feet and hands were left feeling numb. And of how this girl, an
Elf
Flitterwig, could see the invisible oak tree in the school grounds.

Mrs Ulnus stopped tapping the side-table, her attention on her daughter absolute now. ‘Is the girl's surname Montgomery?' her mother asked.

‘How did you know that?' said Gloria.

‘Well. I…' said Mrs Ulnus, very much distracted.

Gloria hadn't noticed that Charlie was in the Watertalky room as she spoke. Charlie had convinced some Gnome Flitterwig geek working overtime in there to have a look in the Waters for Dixon, who Ella couldn't find! But unless you had an open channel to someone, and the tiptap required, the Waters were never very reliable. Even if you knew where someone was, they had to be pretty close or thinking of you, or the pollution on Earth made the Waters cloud up.

Gloria didn't notice Charlie catch his breath as he heard Ella's name mentioned. He slipped out of the room at once without being noticed.

‘What a little liar!' Charlie thought to himself as he left. ‘How could she make stuff up like that?' Maybe Ella's fears
about strange goings-on weren't unfounded.

Ella had been looking for Dixon everywhere. He had snuggled up to her on her pillow only last night, as he did every night, his tiny feet shuffling about near her shoulder to get comfy, his hands resting lightly on her right ear. But this morning at breakfast he was nowhere to be seen.

Samantha, who had knocked over Ella's glass when she sat down, tried to appease her friend. ‘Really, don't worry,' she'd said. ‘He probably just got distracted in the bathroom. You know how he loves to take a swim in the sink.'

Charlie, though he felt a strange palpitation in his chest, tried to make light of it. ‘Pixies are super unreliable, El,' he said. ‘Haven't you been paying attention in Mr Happenstance's class?'

Humphrey simply shrugged. He was not having a good time. Despite the fact it was nearly the end of term, the days weren't getting as short as they usually did at this time of year and he was sick to death of so much light. He'd just received a letter from a cousin of his who lived in a cave in India. He wished he could live in a cave.

Dixon did not appear all day. That night, Ella tucked herself up in bed without him. But she couldn't sleep. She missed his funny little body near her head, the tickle of his weeny fingers
on her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut until she could see balls through the darkness, tweaked her ear and repeated the incantation they had learnt weeks ago in Mutterings. A golden Ponkalucka bubble popped out of her tear duct.

‘Tell Dixon to let me know where he is,' she whispered. The Ponkalucka popped before her and disappeared. Ella sighed. She knew he definitely wasn't anywhere nearby if the Ponkalucka hadn't sped off to do her bidding. But it had been worth a try. Samantha stirred in her bed.

‘Stop sighing and go to sleep, Ella,' she said.

Ella rolled over and tried her best.

But the next day there was still no Dixon at breakfast. Even Humphrey was drawn from his dreams of dark cavernous spaces to consider the conspicuous absence of the pixie.

‘Perhaps he went to do some pixie cleaning-upping in the Outer Hebrides, got trampled on by a Scotsman and is dead,' he offered, sombrely. Samantha whacked him on the chest. A little too hard, as it happens, for the poor Moglin Flitterwig fell right off his stool and onto the floor.

‘So sorry,' said Samantha as she helped him up.

Ella was even paler than usual today. Used to sharing her toast and a tiny bit of honey with Dixon, the memory of the pixie's excitement when she let him sample a little of the sweet
delectability just made her sad. She took herself off to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She tried to cry, hoping her tears might conjure up something, but she couldn't.

‘Oh, where is Dixon?' she asked her reflection in the mirror, pointlessly. For an instant she thought she saw something in her pupils. She looked again. Nothing. Just bits of black in green circles, staring back at her. Blank as the hole in a doughnut.

In Aeronortics that day she was hopeless. At least with Dixon by her side she had been able to climb up out of the cloud and stand upon it, the first step in finding weightlessness, and not care too much how silly she looked. But today she might as well have been stuck in a nest of fairy floss. By the time she clawed her way up onto the cloud's surface, heaving for breath and grabbing for her inhaler, she was beside herself with an irrational sense of apprehension.

That afternoon, doing her homework in the great hall, she turned to Charlie, who always sat next to her at homework time, no matter what. ‘It's not normal, is it, that Dixon hasn't shown up?'

Charlie, who had been trying all day not to pick up on Ella's mood, had to agree. And then he had a brainwave, which shot through him like electricity. It was a little annoying how he was
only ever really brilliant when Ella was around.

‘Why don't you try to get in touch with that Goblin Protector of the Queen's? Mr Wrinkle or whatever his name is. Remember after we'd rescued the Dewdrops?' Ella did indeed remember, all too well. Only months ago, she had found the Sacred Dewdrops at the bottom of a well in the rubbish tip on the far side of Charlie's farm. They had filled her with their mercurial magnificence and she had flown to the willow tree in the Dell beyond her farm and saved the whole of the Magical Kingdom of Magus from the Duke and his dastardly plan to bring machinery into Magus.

‘Shhhh,' said Mr Coddler, the Master of Homework (a Marshlin Flitterwig with bare webbed feet and a decidedly fishy scent), from the front of the hall.

Ella looked at Charlie helplessly.

‘Remember he gave you that hoop? His earring?' hissed Charlie through his teeth.

‘That's it! Detention, Snoppit,' bellowed Mr Coddler, appearing out of nowhere by his desk. Charlie jumped. He really didn't like the way some teachers at Hedgeberry could do that.

Of course Ella remembered! She looked at Charlie apologetically. The Queen had broken the Ban on contact between Flitterwigs and Magicals that day, and Mr Elton Wrinkles, the
Queen's Goblin Protector, had given her his earring to rub should she ever need his help. The earring was in her skateboard bag, in her room.

Ten minutes later, Charlie was marched off to detention (his second in as many days on Ella's account), frowning under his spiky white hair and muttering all sorts of curses under his breath. Ella, meanwhile, had skipped dinner altogether and hurried up to her room to find Mr Wrinkle's earring.

She rubbed it furiously.

Within minutes, Ella heard a loud pop come from the bathroom. She ran to the sound. There was Mr Wrinkles, a little wet, but illustriously attired nonetheless, freckles covered up with foundation, standing in the sink and shaking himself down.

‘You called, dear?' he said, licking his third finger and rearranging his spiky white hair in his reflection on the tap from whence he had appeared.

‘I'm so sorry to bother you,' said Ella, hoping to Magic that she hadn't just called on one of the most important Magicals of Magus for no good reason. ‘How are you?'

‘All right, my dear, in the circumstances. Rather a lot going on these days, what with the reconciliation of the Magicals and the Flitterwigs to sort out, as you know. A planet in crisis.
Environmental damage control to be undertaken. That sort of thing.'

Ella thought it best not to waste the good goblin's time. She got straight to the point.

‘I think something has happened to Dixon,' she said.

‘Dixon?' said Wrinkles, his brow furrowing. He hopped up onto the edge of the sink and surveyed the stripy multicoloured walls with disdain. ‘Goodness, who decorates this place?' he said.

‘Yes, Dixon,' said Ella.

‘Who's Dixon?' Wrinkles said, and then stopped himself. ‘Ah yes, the pixie, the one we chose to be the Queen's messenger when the Dewdrops were stolen. Yes. Of course.'

Ella could hardly believe her ears. Was Dixon a nobody to them? Her best friend!

‘Yes, him,' said Ella, rather pointedly.

‘Well, what do
you
think has happened to him?' said Wrinkles, looking thoughtfully at the girl. However busy he was, she was the Clearheart, after all.

‘He didn't turn up yesterday or today, and he usually does, you see,' said Ella limply. It didn't sound that dreadful when she said it like that.

‘Well, he is a pixie, after all,' said Wrinkles, stepping onto Ella's outstretched hand and sitting cross-legged upon it. ‘They aren't that reliable at the best of times, don't you know.'

Ella didn't really know what to say to that, but she blurted, ‘But he always comes to see me. Without fail.'

Wrinkles looked up at her and his eyes twinkled kindly. ‘I suspect that if he has been with you ever since I last saw you, he probably has some work to catch up on, or family to see.'

Ella was feeling rather silly for having called on him now. ‘I suppose so,' she said.

‘Well, if that's all, dear,' said Wrinkles, looking over at the tap in the sink with little enthusiasm, ‘I'd better be off. Rather a lot of, you know, sorting out between two worlds to do, if you know what I mean.'

Ella felt really foolish now. ‘Of course,' she said. ‘So sorry to have bothered you.'

‘Any time,' said Wrinkles, shifting himself off her palm and moving across the sink to turn the tap on. ‘Toodleoo,' he said, hopping down under the spray of water and disappearing up inside the tap with a loud slurp.

Ella turned the tap off and stared into the mirror, nonplussed.

As Ella got into bed, Samantha, who was getting into her pyjamas, leaned over to her. ‘You okay?' she asked, falling forwards and bumping her head on Ella's knee.

Helping her friend back up before dropping back onto her pillow, Ella just sighed.

But as Ella wished for sleep and the dreams that come with it, she found herself missing Dixon still. Something was not right. She knew it. She thought back on her adventures months ago, when she had been called upon to save the Sacred Dewdrops. As her eyes drooped, a faint smell of lavender reached her senses. It grew stronger and stronger, making her drowsy. Trusting the smell, for it reminded her of her dead mother and her Flitterwig grandmother, Manna, she closed her eyes tightly and breathed it in, clutching the tip of her left ear between her fingers instinctively.

In her dreams she was taken back, first to Manna's house where she had learnt of her elven heritage, and then to Spain, where she had travelled after her Granny and Grandpa had been Shrinkified by
the Duke and Saul. The Spanish elves danced in her dreams and Don Posiblemente flickered before her eyes.

She woke with a start. It was the middle of the night. Samantha snored peacefully beside her. Ella's shoulders were itching and her ears tingled. Her hair flared up around her (without anyone to cut her hair shorter these days, it was getting way too long, for it grew much faster than it should). She had to find Charlie.

Tiptoeing across the silent hall, down the steps and up the other side, Ella crept into the boys' wing. There were doors everywhere. How on earth was she supposed to find him? Feeling her breath coming in short, sharp bursts, she wished she had brought her inhaler. Asthma was such a bore. Stopping for a moment to calm herself, Ella closed her eyes and followed her nose. She picked out the subtle, slightly mossy smell of frog through all the other smells in the corridor. Peat, thyme, socks, the oil students used to grease their skateboard wheels. She moved towards the mossy smell. Past the first door in the boys' wing, past the second. At the third she paused. The smell was coming from in there. Ella padded in, past a boy who rustled in his sleep, and another who snored. Past one who smelt of basil, and another who smelt damp and mouldy. There was Charlie. His froggy friend, Harold, slept soundly on the bedside table.

‘Charlie,' she whispered urgently. ‘Wake up.'

Charlie sat up, startled, and reached for his specs. There was a croak from his bedside table.

‘What the…?' croaked Harold.

‘Shh,' said Ella.

‘Please hush, I think you mean,' croaked Harold, not that Ella could understand him. She clamped her hand over his mouth.

‘Stop it, you two,' whispered Charlie, sliding out of bed and grabbing the frog. The boy in the neighbouring bed stirred. Charlie felt around for the boy's wet sponge and tucked it back into his arms.

‘Marshlin Flitterwig,' he whispered, by way of explanation. ‘Loves wet stuff.'

Every fibre in Charlie's body was alert. He could feel an energy emanating from Ella that he hadn't encountered since their adventures at the beginning of summer. Clutching her hand in his, he led her from his dorm, along the corridor, down to the loggia and out into the gardens beyond.

‘What is it?' he demanded, when he was sure they were far enough away not to be overheard.

‘We have to get to Don Posiblemente,' said Ella. ‘He'll know
how to help us. Dixon is in danger. I just know it.'

Charlie shook his head to clear his thoughts. ‘Ella,' he said, ‘it's the middle of the night, we are in our pyjamas, and we are complete novices at the art of magic. What exactly do you want me to do?'

‘I don't know,' said Ella, ‘but I smelt lavender in my dreams and I saw Don Posiblemente in them too, so whatever it is, you need to do it quickly.'

If it hadn't been Ella telling him what to do, Charlie would have suggested that she was being an idiot and that they should both wait until dawn and have breakfast before they do anything at all. But it
was
Ella. And it was Charlie's destiny to protect her. So, whether he wanted to or not, he felt compelled to act at once.

‘Go and get dressed, and meet me back here as soon as you can,' he told her.

Ella did as she was told. Without waking a soul, she slipped on her T-shirt, dungarees and trainers, grabbed her hoodie, inhaler and skateboard bag and made her way out into the grounds.

Charlie was standing in the shadows of a mulberry bush talking to the Marshlin Flitterwig from his dorm. Humphrey
Scrumphries stood beside them both, rocking back and forth on his feet, his eyes closed under his long fringe, luxuriating in night-time.

As Ella approached she heard Charlie speak. ‘Toby, you're a Marshlin Flitterwig, for Magic's sake. You're a natural around water. Just show us where the most powerful Waterway is, and then go back to bed.' Toby stared soggily back at him, half asleep. ‘I'll do your Animumble homework for a week,' Charlie added, by way of incentive.

Toby's eyes lit up. He shook his head awake and sniffed the air. ‘Two weeks and you've got a deal,' the boy said. Charlie frowned at him and nodded reluctantly. The Marshlin Flitterwig was off across the field at once.

‘But what if we get spotted, Charlie?' said Ella. ‘Who knows who might be out and about at this time of night.' She nodded at Humphrey by way of example.

Harold winked at Charlie. Charlie winked at Humphrey. Humphrey just stared.

‘What?' he asked.

‘Would you mind Bongling us, Humph?' asked Charlie.

Humphrey let his shoulders sag and his neck roll back as if this was the hardest thing he had ever been asked to do. ‘Rule number two, remember?'

‘Well, actually,' said Charlie, ‘I haven't read the rules yet. But we really don't have time to mess around now, so would you mind?'

Humphrey looked sideways at Ella. ‘I would really appreciate it, Humph,' she said, looking into his eyes and placing her hand on his hopefully.

‘Oh, fine,' he intoned. ‘But you do know it only lasts a little while. I haven't got any better at it than that yet. I only get to practise Bongling during the holidays usually, with my parents. There aren't any other Moglins at Hedgeberry, you see, so no-one else does it.' The boy looked sad.

Ella smiled at him. ‘Thanks so much,' she said, squeezing his arm gratefully.

Humphrey clasped his eyes shut, tweaked his ear, put his hands on the children and started to mutter. Ella and Charlie disappeared.

They ran across the field in the direction Toby had set off in, bumping into each other as they went. Being invisible, neither had any idea where the other was. They heard something splashing about and Toby's voice. They followed the sounds to a deep, deep spring on the borders of the vegetable gardens. Toby was flinging himself around in the sparkling waters with glorious abandon. Ella shuddered. It was freezing. It must be
double freezing in there! How could he do such a thing? Charlie, reading her thoughts, tried to give her a knowing look. But he couldn't see her.

‘We're going in after him, you know,' he called out into the ether.

‘But we don't even know how to travel through water,' said Ella, beginning to shiver with the very thought of how cold it was going to be. She tried to move closer to Charlie's voice. ‘Can you even remember the spell?'

‘Um, I think if you remember, you found yourself at Don Posiblemente's that day without doing anything,' said Charlie. He felt about himself for his Protectee. ‘So you'd best start getting in touch with whatever it is that makes you special, that thinking-clear-thoughts thing, quick,' said Charlie, not particularly looking forward to plunging into the ice-cold spring himself. ‘Just think of Don Posiblemente, like you did last time.'

‘Maybe
he
knows what to do,' said Ella, pointing to Toby. Not that Charlie could see her pointing, of course. Harold piped up from Charlie's shoulder. Not that anyone could see him, for in Bongling Charlie, Humphrey had Bongled Harold too.

‘Ahem, I took the liberty of tucking your spell chart into your back pocket before we left,' said Harold, sounding rather proud of himself.

‘You utterly brilliant frog!' said Charlie, feeling the spell chart there and pulling it out. But he couldn't see it.

‘Try letting go of it,' said Harold. Charlie did and, sure enough, as soon as he was not in contact with it the chart debongled at once. It lay on the grass, shining in the moonlight.

Seeing the spell chart land on the grass out of nowhere, Toby scrambled out of the water.

‘I'm going to get in such trouble,' he cried, spooked by what he had just seen. He set back off across the vegetable gardens towards Hedgeberry, unable to see either of the two Bongled children (though he could hear voices coming from somewhere). ‘Such trouble,' he cried.

Charlie and Ella looked about uncertainly. They were beginning to debongle. Ella picked up the spell chart. It sparkled magically. She thought of Dixon and her hair flared up about her. The tingling sensation began again in her neck, around her ears, across her shoulders. She had to find him. But she didn't have a clue what to do. So she closed her eyes and thought back to her dream. She remembered the Spanish Elves and the castanet full of water and how they had told her it wasn't wrong to wish for something.

She opened her eyes and tweaked her ear. It was worth a shot. Reading with difficultly in the moonlight, she muttered the spell out loud.

‘I wish we were with Don Posiblemente,' she added, tweaking her ear with two fingers. Grabbing about wildly until she found Charlie's barely visible hand, she jumped into the cold depths of the spring, hoping to goodness the spell chart would survive the journey.

In the shadows of a mulberry bush near the school building, a collection of white elves rushed about in ever-decreasing circles, trying to find their ward. One minute she had been there, talking to somebody, the next she was gone. ‘I think there must be something in the water here on Earth,' their captain declared. ‘For I am having a lot of trouble thinking straight these days.'