Читать книгу The Broomstick Collection: Books 1–4 - Maeve Friel, Nathan Reed - Страница 9

At the start of Jessica’s third lesson, Miss Strega told her about witches’ mascots.

“In the olden days,” she explained, “almost every witch had a cat, usually a black one, though mine have always been ginger. Other witches had owls and some show-offs even had both. Nowadays, our guild, the W3 – that stands for Witches World Wide – are less fussy. They let us choose a mascot for ourselves, unless of course a mascot chooses its witch.”

“So, in theory, I could have any animal I like?”

“Jessica, you’re wobbling rather a lot,” Miss Strega scolded. “Don’t lean forward like that. Keep your back straight and your knees together. Tuck your legs up under you. That’s better. Now, what was I saying?”

“That I could have any mascot I like.”

“Within reason,” Miss Strega tapped her nose. “Obviously, having to balance an elephant on the back of a broomstick might be a bit of a nuisance. Not to mention clearing up its you-know-what … Careful, Jessica,” she warned, as Jessica, giggling, accidentally hit the Descend twig and dropped down into a bank of cloud.

When Miss Strega caught up with her, they flew along in silence for a while. Clouds were very clammy, wet, unpleasant places, Jessica was discovering, not at all as soft and warm and cuddly as they look from the ground. Visibility was bad too. As the clouds got thicker, she could hardly make out Miss Strega’s broom ahead of her.

“Let’s do a fast-forward climb out of this,” Miss Strega shouted back over her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but my cloak is soaked right through. Once we are higher up, it will be quite dry. Ready, Jessica? Come alongside me. Pause. That’s the girl. Steady. Now, press the Fast Forward twig firmly between your right thumb and forefinger and keep your left forefinger on Lift. And off we go.”

The two broomsticks ascended at speed through the clouds and emerged from their clammy, drippy embrace into a starry night sky.

“This is much better,” said Miss Strega, shaking the raindrops off her cape.

“Isn’t it very windy?” asked Jessica. “Do you think there might be a storm brewing?”

But Miss Strega wasn’t listening.

“Let’s see,” she said, rubbing her chin. “Lesson Number Three. That’s Emergency Stops according to the W3 Rule Book. For the moment, we’re going to keep a straight course for the moon, but, when I say STOP, grip the broomstick tightly between your knees and firmly press the Pause twig.” She looked sternly at Jessica. “I can’t emphasize how important the gripping is. Otherwise, you’ll launch yourself into outer space without your broom. And then where would we be?”

Jessica looked up at the Milky Way with alarm and down at the ocean of clouds beneath her. She checked the strap of her flying helmet and fast-forwarded to where Miss Strega had paused to wait for her.

“As I was saying,” Miss Strega continued as they moved off, “and you can call me picky if you like, but I do think mascots ought to be nocturnal.”

“You mean, an animal that likes to be out and about at night-time? Like an owl or a cat.”

“Or a frog. Or a bat. Or a fox. There are simply dozens to choose from.”

“Mmmm,” said Jessica, pensively, “I think I might go for a—”

“STOP!”

Jessica grabbed the Pause twig. Her timing with the gripping, however, was not quite good enough and she slid backwards on the broom handle, just stopping herself in time from shooting off into the stars.

“Help!” she yelled, scrambling back along the broomstick. Her knees were knocking together with the fright.

“Carry on, when you’re ready, my dear,” said Miss Strega calmly, though Jessica could see by the way her shoulders were shaking and her chin was wobbling that she was trying not to laugh.

“Bother,” said Jessica, rubbing the back of her knee, “I think I’ve got a splinter. Nobody said I’d need kneepads for this flying business.” She glared crossly at Miss Strega’s back.

Without even turning around, Miss Strega repeated, “Back straight, Jessica. Knees together. Legs tucked up.”

Suddenly a large flock of geese was heading towards them. “Gale warning,” they honked as they passed by. “Head for home.”

Within minutes, black shadows were scudding across the moon. The sky darkened. There was a crash of thunder. Long forked streaks of lightning flashed to the right and left of them.

“We’ll have to turn back,” Miss Strega shouted into the wind. “Follow me.”

The gale grew stronger and stronger. Jessica’s broom began to buck all by itself as the wind whipped through the twigs and tossed her hither and thither. Thick damp clouds swirled and churned around her. Storm music welled up. It drummed and clattered and banged.

“Miss Strega,” she howled into the darkness, “where are you? I can’t see you. Am I going in the right direction?”

There was no reply. Jessica bit her lip. “I suppose I could wish myself out of here,” she thought, but remembered Miss Strega telling her never to waste a wish on something she was perfectly capable of doing for herself.

“I expect if I keep flying downwards, I’m bound to hit the ground eventually,” she thought again, “even if I land in the wrong country.” She sat up straighter on her broomstick, tucked up her legs, firmly gripped the broomstick with one hand to steady herself against the wind and gently squeezed the Descend twig with her other hand. As the broom began to drop through the thick wet murk of the clouds, something tickly and fluttery landed near her neck and burrowed under her cloak.

“Oh no,” she yelled, “it’s that pesky goblin again. That’s all I need.”

She shook her head and tried to shake it off, but whatever was there just gripped on more tightly.

“Right,” thought Jessica, “you’ve had it.” She leant forward and pressed the Eject twig. But the Eject twig was obviously out of order for the thing kept fluttering under her cloak. Jessica even thought she heard a little silvery laugh.

“Right,” Jessica decided, “I’m not putting up with this.”

Gripping her broomstick firmly between her knees, she took the Descend and Zoom twigs together in her hands. Immediately the broom began to drop out of the sky, falling back to earth like a stone flung from the top of a cliff.

A few minutes later, Jessica crash-landed with a terrific thump outside the hardware shop.

Miss Strega landed beside her and helped her to her feet.

“You know, Jessica, the Zoom-Descend manoeuvre should really only be used if you are landing in water or possibly a lovely soft sand dune,” she half scolded her as she led her into the back room of the shop. “It’s not meant for pavement touch-downs.”

Jessica’s head was spinning. She felt so dizzy that she was seeing stars. She seemed to be surrounded by hundreds of Miss Stregas with long pointy chins. Most curious of all, she could hear singing. Something or somebody was singing. Something or somebody was singing underneath her cloak.

“What’s that singing?” asked Miss Strega.

Jessica gingerly undid her cloak. There, sitting on her shoulder, was a small damp brown bird with bedraggled feathers, singing in a very beautiful musical voice.

“What on earth is that?” Jessica asked.

“Well, slap my tummy with a wet fish!” exclaimed Miss Strega. “You have just been adopted by a night-in-gale. That is the best mascot of all. Not only do you get storm protection but you’ll have in-flight music too! You lucky, lucky girl.”