Читать книгу Hunt and Power - Stephen Hayes - Страница 9

The following school day passed without any great incident. James and I told Peter what we’d overheard between the girls (he was impressed, but I thought I could also detect some jealousy in his expression). I had to pretend not to know that Natalie had even been over until after dinner when Charlie asked how the group cramming session had gone.

I saw Natalie as much over the next day as I would normally do. I’d thought that perhaps having been denied the chance to talk to me would cause her to lose her nerve, but I wasn’t sure about that anymore, because she made a point of joining any conversation I was having. No matter who it was with or what it was about. She also started asking me uncomfortable questions about all sorts of things I would normally share only with James and Peter. I answered her as best I could, doing fairly well not to crack like I might have a few weeks earlier. But true to their word, James and Peter were giving Natalie no opportunity to talk to me privately, and I could tell that Nicole, Jessica, Felicity and Lisa were getting increasingly annoyed with them for blocking her. Under normal circumstances, I would have been, too.

Marc sent us a group SMS on Thursday night, giving us the date, time and location of Stella’s birthday party. It was to be on Saturday night, from 8 o’clock until late into the night, and was to be held at a secret location within the stretch. He also mentioned in the text that a meeting would take place at 6 o’clock that evening for preparation purposes. He didn’t go into the details about that, but it sounded ominous.

Between now and then, however, we were left with a challenge that we wished we hadn’t put off this long. We had to convince our families to let us go out to the party. I had no reason to expect that Mum or Marge would be at all flexible, so I didn’t understand why Peter was so nervous; what was to be nervous about if we already knew the result? I just hoped there would be no shouting…

We decided that we should start with Dad and Charlie, because if we could get them on our side first, then it might help us convince our mothers. If they disagreed, on the other hand, then there was really no point asking anyone else, and we would have to resort to magic to get them on our side. Amelia had provided her phone number at the first meeting, just in case, and we knew she would be open to helping us if our parents caused problems. She had made it clear that she would help anyone from the group get to the party if they needed it. Stella wanted us there, and it was our responsibility as her friends to go to support her.

We got our chance that night, when Dad and Charlie were in the Playman study, which was opposite our room. They were having the time of their lives as they attempted to show their fathers how to use the Internet. They weren’t really getting anywhere; William was fascinated by the way he could type a line of text in a document and the words wouldn’t run off the page, while Carl marvelled at the way the arrow moved around the screen when he wiggled the mouse.

“Simply ingenious,” said William as he had a turn at wiggling the mouse. “It’s as though the optical hand can sense every little movement. How you can afford to have technology like this in the home—”

“It’s called a mouse,” said Peter helpfully, and the four of them jumped.

“Oh, hello boys,” said Charlie, looking around.

This particular task had been delegated to Peter and me only. The two of us had spent some time discussing how we would go about telling them, and come to the conclusion that we couldn’t just tell them straight; we had to be tactical. I hoped this would work.

“We’ve got a bit of a problem,” I said bluntly.

“Oh dear,” said Dad, his face falling comically. “Well, pull up a chair and tell us what’s on your minds.”

William and Carl looked around at us, their faces amused. “If this is the talk about the birds and the bees then perhaps we should get out,” said William, making to stand up.

“Or in their case, the talk about the Google and the Wahoo,” chuckled Carl.

“You mean Yahoo,” laughed Dad.

“It’s not,” said Peter quickly, going red. “Although…” He looked at me, but I shook my head frantically. The idea of telling either of my parents about my problems with Natalie, Stella and Lena was almost laughable; and yet, it really wasn’t a bad idea. I would never have considered it before now. Perhaps Dad or Charlie could give me some advice what wouldn’t make my stomach churn…

“Actually, it’s to do with the Hammersons,” I said, sobering them up at once.

“Oh dear,” said Charlie, his face falling. “Well in that case, you’d better close the door in case your mother hears.”

“This hasn’t got anything to do with your friend Marc, has it?” asked Dad when Peter had sat back down.

“Not really,” said Peter. “It’s actually about—er—Stella.”

Dad and Charlie glanced at each other, but neither interrupted. Great help, you two, I thought dully.

“Well, she’s been hanging around us lately,” I said, “’cause she was put in the same group as us on camp last week.”

“And was she friendly?” Dad asked, looking carefully at us. I was pleased to see it, because it looked less like a parent and more like someone with a far greater picture in mind. Perhaps this was going to work after all.

“Well actually, I’ve never known her not to be friendly,” I said truthfully. “We always just assumed she was like her father.”

“Well we must expect her to have some of her father’s traits,” said William. “I don’t think there’s any way to know who she’s most like unless we investigate who her mother could be.”

This was enlightening; I knew nothing at all about Stella’s mother. Stella had never made any passing reference to her.

“How do you two find her?” asked Charlie.

“She’s been really good,” said Peter. “She really helped us against Moran, and she gave us loads of good information about the crystals, which Fewul confirmed. She was always happy to get involved in whatever else we were talking about. Plus, she didn’t mind doing magic for us on camp.”

Fewul was the ‘Beast of Magic’, a being of pure magic which only existed when it was called, either by the Sorcerers or by Marc. He had called it forth the previous week when we had needed a bit of information about how to find the Sien-Leoard Crystal, and it had helped us in the fight against Moran that had followed.

“Not surprising, really,” said Dad. “Freddy told us a bit of what he found out about her when she went with him the other week, and he said she seemed like someone who didn’t know how to have friends, but was desperate to learn. I imagine she’d want to fit in as much as possible with you.”

When he said ‘Freddy’, he was referring to Mr. Woodward—or rather, his old friendship with Mr. Woodward. Just prior to the Rock Haulter camp, Mr. Woodward had taken Amelia, Stella and his mother to fix up the damage done to the world at large by Moran when he had briefly become a Sorcerer.

I was incredibly relieved to hear Dad and Charlie talking like this. All four of them, having fought in the last war, seemed to have a better understanding of our position than our mothers would.

“We haven’t seen a lot of her since we got back, though,” I went on. “Only seen her a couple of times. There’s nearly thirty of us involved with Marc and his crystals now, and he and his brother reckon it’d look really suss if we all hung out together. I’m not sure who she hangs out with now.”

I paused, wondering how best to link this to the party. I couldn’t do it too quickly; I was sure there was one more step I had to take before mentioning the party, but I had no idea what that step was. Fortunately, Peter took over.

“Do you guys think we should trust her?” he asked. I lifted my eyebrows at that; it was a stroke of genius, really, asking their opinions. If they said we should trust her, then asking to go to the party was a clear next step.

“Guys?” said William, raising his eyebrows, and I could tell he thought the idea of a teenager speaking that way to his elders was rather disrespectful. Peter didn’t seem to pick up on the hint, though, and neither Dad nor Charlie were at all fazed by it.

“Well, Freddy’s the smartest bloke I’ve ever known,” said Charlie. “Amazing foresight, always seems to know the right thing to do and the best time to do it. He’s also very good at working out who the traitors are. He always says not to trust entirely in his judgement, but personally I’ve never gone wrong by doing so; one of the reasons your father and I are still here today.

“One of the first things he did when he got back in town after his world trip was call us to a meeting, because he’s found himself in a position that he’s never been in before. He really doesn’t know what to think of Stella, because he’s never met anyone quite as—er—unstable.”

“Unstable?” repeated Peter, confused, but I thought I understood what Charlie was saying. And I didn’t like it. Now, though, I was starting to understand where James’s attitude came from. Apparently, scepticism ran in the family.

“It’s mainly to do with the way she’s been raised,” said Dad. “Freddy said he gleamed quite a lot just from looking at her face. Her family has done something to weaken her mind so that they can always read her mind and know what she does. He believes that she’s probably a good person, but as long as she lives with her family, they can find out just about anything from her by reading her mind.”

“What did they do to her?” I asked indignantly.

“No idea,” said Charlie. “Perhaps she’ll know. I tell you what, this is the way I would advise you to handle her. If she needs someone to talk to, you can be the ones to listen to her if you want, but I wouldn’t go telling her much about yourselves. Arnold Hammerson knows we were alongside the Woodwards last time, and I wouldn’t put it past him to use Stella to get information about us, even without her knowledge.”

I could understand that. It was better than what I had expected, better even than what James thought. It meant that they suspected that Stella herself wasn’t dangerous, but that because of her weak mind (whatever that was), her family could use her against us without her knowledge.

Peter and I looked at each other now, trying to work out how to bring the conversation around to the party. I had the feeling that we were about as close as we could get, but I also had the feeling that none of them would want us actually spending an evening in the company of the Hammersons.

“You think the Hammersons would be as interested in you as they are in Marc?” Peter finally asked incredulously. “I know we can’t be all that popular with them, but wouldn’t they have more important things to worry about?”

“Does any of us really know what the Hammersons consider as important?” asked Carl in a low voice.

I shot Peter a warning look because he looked ready to argue, which was not a good move. Thinking hard, I said, “Yes but why, exactly? Did you do something last time that they’d want payback for?”

“Not particularly,” said Dad. “But we are fairly close to the Woodwards themselves, and I’m fairly sure they're aware of that.”

“Well that’s okay,” I said. “At least, I think it’s okay. I dunno. See, Stella approached me several weeks ago, even before that stuff with Moran. She was looking for a friend, and she singled me out of everyone in that park.”

“Did she say why?” asked Charlie, frowning and looking … what? Nervous? I thought so, but I couldn’t think why.

“She just said that I was the only one who would trust her,” I said. “And I thought she was nuts, ‘cause I didn’t even know her.” I looked at them. “What do you think she was thinking?”

“Looking for a friend,” Charlie repeated, thinking hard. “Well I suppose she may have been doing just that. I tell you what, if she’s most interested in a friendship with you, John, then I’d keep her on side. You may not know—in fact, Stella may not know—but the Woodwards have their own plans for her.”

“Do they?” I said, my curiosity overwhelming me despite the fact that I’d worked myself into the perfect position to mention the party.

“Indeed,” said Charlie. “Don’t ask, though, it’s top secret. And of course if Stella finds out then her family will too, and they won’t let it happen. But you can be sure that, eventually, it will be perfectly safe to be friendly with Stella. Unless, of course, it turns out that she’s in league with her family after all.”

“And what are the odds of that?” asked Peter.

“In Freddy’s mind, pretty slim,” said Dad comfortably.

He and Charlie bit their tongues and looked closely at us, like they were waiting for us to speak. Maybe it was a parent thing, but I had the distinct impression that they knew we were about to get to the point, and they wanted to hear it. So I took a deep breath, and said it.

“She wants us to come to her birthday party. Her family’s put it on, and they say she’s allowed to bring her real friends, since she doesn’t get on with anyone they hang with. Do you think we should go?”

“Her family are giving her a birthday party?” said Carl. “I thought they spent their days torturing her.”

“Sounds extremely suss,” said Dad.

“How sincere was she when she said she wanted you there?” asked Charlie.

“Very,” said Peter, answering the only actual question. “We’ve only seen her once since she got back, and she addressed the whole lot of us, and honestly if I didn’t know what her family does to her, I would have thought of her as a bit of a—I don’t know. She just seemed overly thankful and appreciative of our support.”

“And she looked like she meant it,” I added. “It wasn’t as though she looked happy for some other reason. I don’t know if her family are up to something, but as far as she’s concerned, she only wants us there for the support.”

“So can we go?” asked Peter, getting straight to the point.

Dad shook his head sadly. “I don’t think it’s a very sensible thing to do.”

“You just said to keep Stella on side,” I shot at him. “What better way—”

“Perhaps you should do something for her yourselves,” said Charlie. “Instead of falling in with her family’s plans. In any case, if your mother found out—”

“Well, that’s why we’re asking you first,” said Peter, and all four men grinned at each other.

“It’s on Saturday night,” I said, but I was cut off.

“Well definitely not then,” said Dad firmly. “I wouldn’t want you at some party on a Saturday night that’ll go to all hours, no matter who you were with. I don’t think anyone there is likely to supervise you.”

I knew that even if we could get them on side with Stella, it would be extremely hard to make them trust us enough to go to a party on a Saturday night. Damn—why did parents have to be so bloody protective?!

“Aw come on,” I said, getting a bit desperate. “We’ll be okay; we won’t drink or anything—”

I knew I was pulling at straws now. I couldn’t think what I could possibly say that would make them change their minds.

“Amelia said that if we couldn’t persuade you to let us come,” said Peter, “that she would use magic to help us get there anyway.”

“Amelia Woodward is going too, is she?” asked William.

“Yep,” said Peter. “She trusts Stella, too.”

The adults looked at each other, the rest of Peter’s words starting to take effect.

“So you’re saying that there’s nothing we can do to stop you going,” said Dad finally.

I felt rather guilty. It was all well and good to plot against our parents when we were away from them, but after this conversation, I actually felt rather bad about going out against my dad’s will.

“Pretty much,” said Peter finally.

“We’d better speak to Freddy then,” Charlie said to Dad. “I wonder if he knows.”

“He does,” I said. “Amelia told him herself, and he’s okay with the precautions that have been taken.”

“What precautions?” asked Dad.

“Stella made her father and grandmother seal pacts,” said Peter. “They’re not allowed to use magic at the party, nor are their supporters allowed to use magical devices they’ve created. The pact seems to cover all magic, so Amelia, Stella and Marc can’t use any either.”

All their faces cleared. “That’s pretty good then,” said Charlie. “That would make the party safe as far as magic goes, particularly if Freddy’s okay with it. Although are you absolutely sure about this?”

“What do you mean?” asked Peter.

“Well, it sounds like the only proof you’ve got of any such pact being made is Stella’s word,” said Charlie. “And what Stella says and what Stella does aren’t necessarily the same thing. I personally find it difficult to believe the Hammersons would be so flexible to give up their magic at a time when enemies are so close at hand.”

“So do we,” I said. “And so does Stella. But they want this to go ahead, and they needed her to cooperate for it to work. That’s why she thinks there’s probably something going on. But if there is, then they’d have trouble doing anything now, with the pact in place.”

“Amelia can read Stella’s mind,” said Peter. “And she says it’s true, so I suppose it must be.”

I grinned; even the way Peter said it made it sound dodgy. Now the adults were looking at each other, really not sure what to do. I could see their minds ticking over.

Then Charlie finally said, “Well, I don’t see what there is we can do to stop you going, but I’m going to advise you to be on your guard, always, because you’ll be most likely outnumbered by Hammerhearts at least fifty to one.”

“Hammerhearts?”

“That’s what the Hammersons call their supporters,” said Dad in disgust. “People with their hearts set on the Hammersons—disgraceful.”

“Well it’ll only be us there,” I said. “We’re going to lock the crystals up so they can’t try manhandling us to get them off us.”

“Good thinking,” said Dad. “Though I must say, I can’t imagine your mothers will be happy about this, you know. Do you intend to tell them?”

Peter and I looked at each other in a defeated sort of way. Neither of us wanted to, but we knew we would have to.

“Let us talk to them first,” said Charlie. “I expect they’ll want to drum you tomorrow though, so be ready.”

I groaned, but I couldn’t see any other way to go about it.

* * *

It turned out that while we had been talking to our fathers, Amelia had been going all over Chopville, answering the calls of people from the Young Army who were trying to convince their parents to let them go to the party. So far, no parents had said yes without magical persuasion. Amelia had been contacted by Natalie, Lisa, Serena, Kylie, Katie, Sophie, Erica, Sebastian and Jane.

“But there are plenty more people who will probably call her tonight,” Marc told us at recess; it was from him that we were receiving this information.

We had told the girls and James what we’d discussed with our fathers the previous night, and we planned to talk about it with our mothers when we got home from school that afternoon, always assuming none of us got detention between now and then. I wasn’t sure if our fathers had told our mums about it, because neither Mum nor Marge showed any sign of knowing when we’d seen them that morning. In the afternoon, however, we would be home for a couple of hours before our fathers got home from work, so we would have to face our mothers without them. Perhaps William and Carl might jump to our defence; one could hope anyway. Nicole also tracked down Amelia during period three, when all the year-tens were doing PE, and let her know to expect a call from us that afternoon.

“She says Darcy and Lena have already asked for help this afternoon,” Nicole told us at lunch time. “So we can only expect her to come once she’s finished with them.”

“What does she do, anyway?” asked Simon.

“Some sort of spell,” said Natalie. “My parents wouldn’t hear a word of it at first, but then Amelia did something to them, and suddenly they seemed to see the good side of letting me go. It wasn’t the domination charm, ‘cause they seemed to know what they were talking about. My sister wanted to come too, but they put their foot down then.”

When the six of us got home that night, we discovered very quickly that our fathers had not told our mothers the previous night, but had told them instead right after we left for school that morning, before they themselves went off to work. William and Carl were in the lounge room, watching television again, as they had been on Wednesday.

“We’re not too popular at the moment,” Carl told us. “The ladies aren’t very thrilled with your plans for tomorrow night.”

“Where are they?” asked Felicity.

“Next door,” said William. “I believe they and their mothers are planning how best to punish you lot for even dreaming of doing such a thing, particularly while you’re supposed to be grounded. I’m amazed that bit never came up in the conversation last night.”

“I don’t think our dads agree with why we were grounded in the first place,” said James. “Not surprising they’d forget.”

“So you don’t think there’s a chance of convincing them?” asked Peter, really looking for confirmation more than the answer we all wanted to hear.

“Not a chance in the world,” said Carl, shaking his head.

“Right then,” said Peter, turning to our sister. “You’d better go call Amelia. I don’t know how long it’ll take her to get here, but we should wait 'til she does before we confront them.”

“Don’t do anything untoward,” said William, though his expression told us clearly that he didn’t mind much what we were doing.

We nodded, then shot upstairs to Peter’s and my room, where Nicole left a message on Amelia’s phone for her to call us back ASAP. I could only assume she was out helping Darcy and Lena at the moment. She called us back in under half an hour, and when Nicole told her the circumstances, she teleported straight into our bedroom.

“Have you actually seen them yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, just William and Carl,” said Felicity.

“So how do we do this?” asked James.

“You just talk to them and leave the rest to me,” said Amelia, making to open the door.

“Hang on, hang on,” said Peter quickly. “You can’t—if they see you—”

“They won’t see me,” said Amelia, and she actually looked like she was going to laugh.

We all looked at each other, confused. Finally Nicole said, “Well, should we do this thing?”

“Let’s get it over with,” sighed Jessica.

Amelia opened the door and promptly disappeared into thin air. The rest of us went through the open door.

“Where are you, Amelia?” hissed Peter.

“Never mind where I am,” hissed Amelia’s voice from just in front of us. “Just go!”

William and Carl were, once again, the first people we met when we got downstairs. They were exactly where we had left them, only now the grannies—Hilda and Violet—had joined them. The last two looked around at us and raised their eyebrows, telling us clearly that we were in for it. We barely had time to trade smirks with William and Carl before an angry voice echoed from the kitchen behind us, and Mum and Marge came into the room.

“So,” said Mum, seeming to swell with mounting fury before our eyes. I could tell that both Peter and Nicole were on the verge of saying, “So what”, but thankfully they held themselves in. I had to assume that us being cheeky would only make Amelia’s job more difficult.

“Hi Mum,” said Felicity cheerfully to her mother, who looked ready to breathe fire.

“In,” said Marge sharply, pointing over her shoulder back into the kitchen. “Table, now. And you two as well,” she finished, shooting a look at William and Carl.

William and Carl both looked startled. “What did we—”

“Now!”

William and Carl looked at each other, and I had to fight hard not to laugh. Something told me, clearly, that they had been treated like this at some point in the past by either their mothers or their wives many, many years ago, and they weren’t used to it. They sighed and stood up, following us into the kitchen, with Hilda and Violet wheeling themselves along in their chairs behind us all.

The six of us sat down at the table, but William and Carl, perhaps wanting to remain in some position of authority, refused to sit, and therefore remained standing on the other side of the table, facing Mum and Marge. Our mothers were standing, staring at the six of us in furious disbelief.

“Typical that you do this now instead of waiting ‘til Dad gets home,” said Nicole before any of us could stop her.

“That’s enough out of you, young lady!” snapped Mum, and Nicole fell silent. She then turned on Peter and I. “So, what do you two have to say for yourselves?”

“What’s for dinner?” asked Peter politely.

I groaned and put my hand over my face. Really, Nicole and Peter just couldn’t resist being cheeky when they had their backs against the wall. I could just imagine Hammerson holding an agonator against Peter, and him saying something really stupid to land himself in a whole lot more trouble. Another typical Playman trait, though one I didn’t carry quite like the other two, probably because I had been adopted by the Playmans rather than born into the family. Although I had picked some of the cheek up over the years. Most of it seemed to be inherent rather than learnt.

“Don’t be smart,” snapped Marge. “You know perfectly well what we’re talking about.”

“James is smarter than me,” said Peter, but I elbowed him hard to make him shut up.

“We know,” I said, preferring not to stall. “But Dad and Charlie were okay with it once they understood—”

“And since when have those two ever got it right?” Mum shot back.

“Well they’re yet to be wrong, really,” said Nicole. “I mean, we’re all still here, aren’t we?”

“Enough,” snarled Mum, and I knew that no brand of reasoning was going to work on them today; not that it ever did, when it came to our business with the Sorcerers.

“You are all grounded indefinitely,” said Marge, “and for the same sort of nonsense as this: Going out when we explicitly tell you not to. Did you forget that?”

“I thought that was over,” said Jessica. “That was nearly two weeks ago.”

“You never actually told us how long we were grounded for,” Peter pointed out. “How long is ‘indefinitely’ anyway?”

“It means you’re grounded until we say so!” shouted Mum. “You are not going anywhere tomorrow night, and nothing you or your foolish fathers say can change that. I will personally be making sure you don’t leave this house tomorrow night.”

We all stared at her for a moment, shocked at how angry she was. Finally Peter shifted his weight. “Can we leave next door’s house tomorrow night instead?” he asked, grinning in utter spite of the situation, as if he thought it might help.

“Enough of this,” snarled Mum. “I thought we’d sorted this out already. It’s bad enough that you want to party with the Hammersons, let alone stay out all night with them—”

“It’s not ‘all night’,” I said, noticing as I did so that Marge’s eyes had slid out of focus, before returning to the conversation straight away. I knew right then that Amelia had claimed her first victim. Now it was our job to keep talking about the party. “It’s just ‘til late.”

“My point exactly,” said Mum. “You’re not going anywhere. From now on you will leave this house for school only, and you will return here as soon as it’s finished, and that will be the story of your lives. We can’t stop your fathers putting their necks on the line, but you will not be in the same boat. I refuse!”

She looked at Marge for support, apparently realising that her words weren’t making much of an impression on us.

Marge thought through it, and finally said, in a defeated voice, “I’m not sure if there’s much we can do to stop them.”

“What do you mean?” snapped Mum. “Of course we can—”

“And when have they ever paid attention to what we’ve told them to do?” sighed Marge, the fight going out of her. “They just go and do whatever they like anyway. They’re still hanging around with that Marc, for one thing.”

“So you’re prepared to throw in the towel?” said Mum incredulously. I almost laughed at the sight of her and Marge in disagreement regarding our behaviour; that was one area where they usually thought alike. Luckily, I stopped myself just in time.

“Not quite,” said Marge, and she turned back to face the rest of us. “I’m prepared to allow some leniency if you agree to certain terms.”

“Good thinking,” said Mum. “For instance, you are all to be home by 11 o’clock. No later.”

“Yes,” said Marge, nodding. “And no friends will come to stay with you this time.”

“And you are all to be 100 percent sober,” joked Carl, but Mum and Marge glared at him.

“Exactly,” said Mum. “Absolutely no drinking, under any circumstances. We’ll be waiting up to smell your breath as soon as you get in.”

We looked at each other. It was better than we had expected; we would only be there for three hours, and would probably miss half the party, but three hours would be enough to show Stella that she wasn’t alone in this thing.

Unfortunately, however, the fight wasn’t over yet.

“Margaret! Marge!” shrieked Hilda, as she and Violet prepared to enter the fray.

“Do you two have a better idea?” asked Mum, glaring around at them. I had the impression that Amelia had worked her magic on her now too.

“I am astounded you would let your maternal instincts drop so easily,” said Violet, looking appalled. “There’ll be all sorts of dodgy people there. The boys will come home with black eyes and broken noses, and the girls will probably be drugged senseless, and then who knows what.”

There was an explosion of sound in the room as every single person took to their feet. My ears were ringing, not due to the noise in the room, but from the rage that was now burning inside me at Violet’s words. How could she have such a low opinion of us? The state of the argument was getting us nowhere now; everyone was shouting, trying to make themselves heard, and it wasn’t until Carl’s booming voice sounded out, louder and angrier than I’d ever heard it, that the room went finally quiet.

As it did, I saw both Hilda and Violet’s eyes slide out of focus briefly, just as Marge’s had. Thank goodness for Amelia’s timing.

“That was a terrible thing to say,” said William, staring hard at Violet. “You must not have a very high opinion of your grandchildren to say that, even after everything they’ve done in the last three weeks.”

“Nothing like that is going to happen,” said Nicole, looking close to tears now, and Jessica put her arm around her.

“Of course not,” said Peter. “The whole place is forbidden from using magic, and there’ll be enough decent people there so that we can protect ourselves if they do try anything. You people just worry too much.”

“All part of being a parent, mate,” said Carl. “You’ll understand in due course.”

“I’m not having kids,” said Peter, and I could tell he was actually thinking more about the process of conceiving rather than the parenting aspect of it—typical Peter.

“Enough of that,” said Marge. “Okay, you kids can go to this—this party of yours, but you’re to be back here at 11 o’clock, on the dot, alone and completely sober. If you’re not, you won’t know what’s coming to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” we chorused.

“That’s 11, on the dot,” said Mum. “We’ll be waiting up.”

“Righto,” I said. We all moved away from the table, desperate to get back to our room now that the job was done.

We shot upstairs, noticing that the kitchen had gone rather quiet in the aftermath of the shouting; perhaps the adults no longer wanted to talk to each other. We went straight into our room.

“You in, Amelia?” hissed James as he went to shut the door.

“Yeah,” she whispered, appearing from thin air once the door was closed.

“Brilliant,” said Peter, sinking onto his bed. “Brilliant, Amelia. I don’t think we had a hope in hell of getting them on side without you.”

“I don’t think so either,” said Amelia, smirking. “Most difficult ones I’ve dealt with so far, and I thought Serena’s were bad. Oh well.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Felicity. “Er—perhaps we should hang up here for a while. I’m not sure I want to be in their company right now.”

“You guys okay with those conditions she set?” Amelia asked.

“I’d prefer not to have to worry about being back by 11,” said Nicole. “But we should be thankful that we’re at least allowed to go out.”

“I can do something about the time too, if you like,” suggested Amelia.

“Like what?” we all asked.

“Like put a spell on them so that they’ll need to go to bed early tomorrow night,” said Amelia, her lip curling. “So that they won’t be able to check on you when you get back. I’ll have to come back to do it though, so I can get your dads as well.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Jessica.

I agreed, but it made me feel slightly uneasy. We had already achieved the near-impossible by getting permission to go, but this somehow felt ten times worse. What if something did go wrong? Our parents would be asleep, and we wouldn’t be able to count on their help. But then, I told myself, if something went wrong with the Hammersons, I would hardly be going to Mum and Marge for help—they wouldn’t be any good in a battle of magic. In fact, we would probably do better than them, after our successive victories over Moran.

“Cool,” said Amelia. “Well, I’d better go. I believe Daniel is in need of my assistance.”

And she vanished into thin air once again.