The Wizard In My Shed Read online

  Over the next two hours Rose, her brother and Tamsin ran, jumped, skipped, hid, jumped out and generally made things as hard as they could. And gradually Merdyn got sharper and sharper.

  Old bicycle helmets, bowling balls and tennis rackets all got FROZEN, ZAPPED and FRIED, until there was nothing left in the garden to destroy. By the end of the morning, they were all exhausted. Even Kris had had a whale of a time – until he saw his reflection in one of the few unbroken windows and noticed his eyebrows were overgrown. He immediately ran inside to do some emergency pruning.

  Tamsin flopped down on the grass, where Rose was recuperating with her notebook in her hand. She was writing down all the herbs Merdyn had used moments earlier, when he’d finally renewed the pinecone spell that made Bubbles speak. She tried to remember the incantation too. Primula veris, speakinsideoutside vernis opulus? Something like that. She may not be a W-blood, but if Rose could master just this one spell, that would be enough for her.

  “He’s not so bad after all, is he?” Tamsin admitted. “This sure beats doing homework on a Saturday morning anyway.”

  “You do HOMEWORK on a Saturday morning?” Rose said teasingly.

  “Square,” added Bubbles, who had taken up a seat on Kris’s deckchair to watch the action and had already deposited thirty-five poos on it.

  Tamsin ruffled Bubbles’s fur affectionately.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Suzy’s voice.

  “What ON EARTH …?”

  Rose’s mum was standing in the back doorway, newly coiffured for the big night out. Rose hardly recognised her. Gone was the couch potato with cheese puffs in her hair. Suzy now looked like she did in Rose’s poster of The Mondays, vivid and alive.

  “You look fantastic, Mum!” Rose gasped.

  Merdyn was confused. A transformation like this was impossible in the Dark Ages where there were no hairdressers. “Have thou been to see a witch?”

  “What?” Suzy replied, a bit insulted. “No, just Tracy from Hair Apparent on the high street. Never mind that, Martin, what’s been going on here?” She gestured to the garden.

  Rose looked around her. Oops. The garden looked a bit like a bomb had gone off underneath it. There were burnt garden tools and holes in the ground, frazzled shrubs and smashed windows.

  “Sorry. We’ll, er … get tidying,” said Rose meekly.

  “You’d better. Good job I’m in a nice mood!”

  Much to everyone’s relief, Suzy went back inside. She hadn’t even noticed the pear tree.

  Tamsin picked up a twisted golf club from the charred grass. “Come on, Rose. I’ll help you,” she said.

  Rose’s doubts were at an end.

  She’d finally made a human friend.

  Note

  1 A lazy person, making scobberlotcher the ideal insult to throw at a person who is unlikely to bother looking up what it means.

  Sergeant Murray was so in love with Rose’s mum that he paid out of his own pocket to privately charter the POLICE HELICOPTER to take them all to London. At Rose’s insistence, Suzy had told him that Uncle Martin suffered with severe car sickness, so Murray had used his rank to pull the favour.

  “Strange that, seeing as he was a racing driver,” observed Sergeant Murray, but Mum put it down to his head injury and they left it at that.

  The helicopter caused quite a commotion when it landed on Daffodil Close. Dion was tinkering with his Pontiac Firebird in the street. He’d almost fixed the rear bodywork after Merdyn had crashed it. When he saw Suzy emerge from the house with her new hairdo and her ‘going to London’ crushed velvet mini-dress, his jaw hit the floor. She looked like a movie star – and the helicopter escort did nothing to dispel the illusion.

  Shakia and Kris had got dressed up too. Even Rose had changed into jeans (Bubbles had done a goodbye wee on her other trousers anyway) and a black top with sequins all over it. And Merdyn had asked Rose to straighten his pointy hat and brush the dried mud out of his long robes. Though even at his best, he still looked like a pirate who’d got lost on his way back from an all-night party.

  The ancient warlock was clearly nervous as the helicopter (or “whirly-bird” as he called it) took off, but he found it much less puke-inducing than a car.

  As they flew through the late afternoon sky, Rose and Merdyn marvelled at the sights below. Kris and Shakia leaned together against the windows opposite, headphones clamped over their ears and recording everything on their phones. Sergeant Murray was giving Suzy a potted history of the police force from 1845 to the present day. Mum was trying her best to enjoy it, but they were half an hour in, and he’d only just got to 1850.

  Soon they were flying over London. Merdyn could not believe his medieval eyes.

  “In the name of Vanheldon, I have never seen such a transformation! ’Twas but a sewer once. Who liveth in those giant towers?” He pointed at a tower block. “The King?”

  “Erm, no,” said Rose. “Lots of different people live there, in flats. THAT’S where the Queen lives, look. Buckingham Palace.”

  “Heaven forfend!” said Merdyn, amazed at the size of the royal residence as they flew overhead.

  “And that’s Big Ben.” Rose pointed out the famed clock tower.

  “Who is he?” Merdyn asked. “A giant? Did he eateth all the fields? And is that his cartwheel?”

  “No, that’s the London Eye,” said Rose, giggling.

  “London hath an eye now?” the warlock exclaimed, shocked.

  Rose giggled again, but a wave of sorrow quickly followed. She was suddenly realising how much she would miss these baffling conversations if they succeeded in getting Merdyn home tonight. How dull it would be without him, however annoying he could be.

  And what would even happen tonight? She’d never been to a wizard duel before (obviously). Might Merdyn get hurt? Might anyone else? And what would her mum say when she found out the truth?

  All of a sudden, the whole plan seemed like a big mistake.

  Between you and me, Merdyn was worried too. Jerabo would be a powerful opponent. He had travelled all this way to confront Merdyn, and he would not give up easily. The warlock looked at Rose, then at her crazy family, and thought how he might even miss them. Desperate as he was to return to his own time, it wasn’t ALL bad in this world.

  “Rose,” he said eventually.

  She looked up at him.

  “I could have bumped into a much worse person than thee in this strange land. You have shown me great kindness. And …” He desperately wanted to tell her that he would miss her, but after a long pause he only managed, “And … I shall make sure thou get thy singing spell before I leaveth. Thou hath certainly earned it.”

  Rose desperately wanted to say that she wasn’t even sure she needed the singing spell any more – that she wished she could call this whole thing off and keep her wizard friend living in her shed for ever. But she didn’t either. “Thanks, Merdyn,” she replied instead. “It’s been fun.” Then she turned and looked back out of the window.

  In other words, reader,

  they shut off their feelings,

  and hoped for a night

  of successful dealings.

  At last Rose, Merdyn the Wild, Sergeant Murray, Suzy, Kris and Shakia arrived at the theatre to watch Jerabo the Great. Merdyn attracted some very odd looks from the other theatre-goers as he passed through the gold-painted foyer. Inside, they found Sergeant Murray had pulled some favours with the management too (probably by threatening them with jail) and got them fantastic seats right in the middle of the stalls. The scarlet auditorium was packed, and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. This magician had been completely unknown until a month ago. And now suddenly he was one of the most famous people in Britain.

  As they headed to their seats, an eagle-eyed usher spotted Thundarian and tried to take it off the pumped-up warlock, as it was deemed an offensive weapon. He might as well have tried to take a juicy bone from a snarling dog.

  “It’s OK,
” said Sergeant Murray, waggling his grand moustache. “He’s with me.” And he flashed his badge, hoping to impress Suzy with his authority.

  Kris and Shakia had gone crazy at the snack kiosk and bought several tonnes of popcorn, pick ’n’ mix and fizzy drinks which they now shared out. While everyone else tucked into their snacks, Rose and Merdyn stared at the stage. All the great warlock had in his mind was victory. He kept patting the little leather pouch on his belt where he’d placed his disenchantment potion. He was ready to do battle. All Rose had in her mind was panic – what on earth had she let herself in for?

  The lights went down and a blanket of hush descended over the audience. Only Kris could be heard crunching on his popcorn. Shakia had to give him a little elbow to make him stop. All was now eerily quiet and dark.

  Suddenly, dramatic music punctured the silence. DO-DO-DO-DOOOO!

  Relieved, Kris started crunching on his popcorn again.

  “BEHOLD … THE EAGLE!” boomed a voice over the loudspeakers.

  “’Tis Jerabo all right,” Merdyn said to Rose, recognising the voice of his foe immediately.

  The stage curtains flew open. A spotlight flashed on, to reveal what looked like a man-sized eagle complete with feathers and beak.

  “That’s him!” said Merdyn. “Damnation! He has perfected the eagle transformation spell on himself!”

  The “eagle” thrust out a wing and a puff of smoke appeared from nowhere. It spread through the theatre in waves, as drums rolled loudly. BOOM di di BOOM BOOM BOOM.

  “He produceth smoke! Not an easy task,” Merdyn whispered to Rose.

  Rose knew – just as the audience did – that pyrotechnics could produce pretty spectacular results in the twenty-first century, but could they really do something this atmospheric? Surely not. And that was nothing compared to what they saw next.

  For out of the smoke, the eagle FLEW.

  “Gadsbudlikins!” Merdyn exclaimed in awe. “With such speed he flyeth!”

  The crowd was enraptured. Oohs and aahs rang throughout the theatre, mingling with the jaunty flute notes that now trilled through the air as the eagle soared over their heads. FLAP FLAP FLAP. Even Rose was gobsmacked. It was incredibly impressive. She couldn’t see any ropes or wires anywhere. This guy was the real deal. He MUST be a wizard from the past!

  On to the stage came an actor dressed as a gamekeeper, complete with tweed jacket, deerstalker and plus fours.

  “Damn these pesky eagles eating my crops!” he bellowed hammily. “I’m going to shoot him dead!”

  He produced a shotgun from behind his back and took aim. “BOO!” went the audience happily.

  The eagle shrieked when it saw the gun. “CAW! CAW! CAW!”

  BANG! The gamekeeper’s shotgun rang out. Merdyn grabbed Rose’s arm.

  “Erm … like, ow?” Rose said, feeling a bruise forming already.

  “He shot him with the little cannon!” Merdyn hissed. “The little carry cannon.”

  The warlock was hypnotised. Above their heads, the eagle swirled in circles as if shot dead, limply spiralling downwards with the spotlight upon him … and then, miraculously, he sprang to life again.

  The theatre lights flashed every colour of the rainbow – FLASH, FLASH, FLASH – the music reached a crescendo – DUM DA DA DUM DUM DUM! – and the bird-man reached into his own mouth and pulled from his teeth … a bullet.

  The crowd went berserk. Merdyn almost found himself clapping too. Shakia, Suzy, Sergeant Murray and Kris were applauding wildly.

  But Rose wasn’t.

  Because she had spotted something that made her heart sink.

  She had been as entranced as Merdyn until Jerabo/the eagle had landed back on the stage – where she was sure she saw him unclip a wire from his belt, which then shot up to the gantry at lightning speed. What kind of wizard would need a wire to fly?

  Rose felt the blood drain from her head to her toes as the answer came to her.

  The kind of wizard that was NOT a real wizard from the Dark Ages.

  That was who.

  In Rose’s brain,

  alarms went off like a blaster.

  This evening might end

  in total disaster!

  The audience was still cheering as Rose regained her hearing. Jerabo the Great/the eagle had thrown a smoke bomb on the floor. When it cleared, he had transformed from an eagle into a man in a normal magician’s outfit of black suit, white shirt and dickie bow tie, topped off with an annoying blond quiff. He took a bow.

  But Rose was watching even closer this time and saw the eagle outfit disappear through a tiny trapdoor in the stage – along, she thought sadly, with Merdyn’s hopes of finding his way back home.

  “Merdyn!” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think this is your guy after all.”

  “Of course ’tis him! Just look at him!” Merdyn hissed back. (Reader, you would concur if you could see him, he looked EXACTLY like the Jerabo we met in chapter one!) “Now be silent! I needeth to concentrate. His powers have improved greatly. This will be even harder than I thoughteth.”

  “And now!” announced Jerabo the Great from the stage. “I would like to ask for a brave volunteer.”

  Merdyn glanced at Rose with a determined look in his eye. “Here we goeth.”

  He started to rise to his feet. Rose pulled him back down. “Don’t do this, Merdyn. Can’t we just go and talk to him later backstage?” she pleaded.

  “Thou do not knoweth Jerabo,” he said. “The time for whiffle-whaffle has passed. There is only one way to solve this. Wish me luck.” Merdyn got to his feet and shouted towards the stage, “I SHALL VOLUNTEERETH, SIRE!”

  “Lovely jubbly,” enthused Jerabo the Great. He peered into the crowd to identify the brave soul. “What’s your name, mate?”

  Merdyn thumped his staff upon the floor and shouted,

  “Trillium Peumus

  LEVITATO-us!”

  This sent whispers through the crowd like a wildfire. Hello? Who’s this weirdo in fancy dress? was the rough translation. But they’d seen nothing yet. Moments later, Merdyn started to rise off the ground. The audience was baffled.

  “Uncle Martin!” shouted Suzy, in bewilderment too. “What on earth are you doing?” She knew he’d become a bit eccentric since his accident – but now the ex-racing driver from Aberdeen was floating fully two metres in the air without the use of wires!

  Kris and Shakia, on the other hand, were really enjoying it. They knew Merdyn’s true identity, but the reveal to the rest of the world was proving even more dramatic than they’d expected. If they hadn’t run out of sweets, the moment would have been perfect.

  “Sit down, Martin!” Rose’s mum continued to implore. “You’re making a fool of yourself!”

  “MY NAME IS MERDYN THE WILD!” Merdyn announced with great gravitas. “THE GREATEST WARLOCK WHO EVER LIVETH!”

  “Who?” said Jerabo flippantly. From the stage, he still couldn’t see the volunteer as the bright theatre lights shone in his face. “Do I know you, mate?”

  “Oh thou knowest me, all right!” Merdyn continued as he floated towards the stage.

  “AND THOSE WHO KNOWETH ME DO BOW DOWN BEFORE ME!”

  The audience began to think Merdyn was part of the show, like the gamekeeper. But they were pretty unimpressed with his flying.

  “Ugh, he’s so slow,” said one spoiled child. They had, after all, just seen an eagle zipping around the room faster than a jet fighter.

  Rose couldn’t look. She caught her mum staring at her though.

  “Did you know Uncle Martin could fly?” Suzy asked angrily.

  From the stage, Jerabo the Great could finally make out the figure of the scruffy warlock floating slowly towards him. He could hardly believe his eyes. He wondered if it was a rival magician come to torment him. “Call security,” he whispered in a panic to a technician at the side of the stage.

  Moments later, Merdyn landed gently beside the performing magician. Ever the professional
, Jerabo smiled at the crowd. “A big round of applause for Mervin, er … what was your name again, pal?”

  “Do not pretend thou don’t knoweth me, thou coxcomb! Thou crook-nosed rakefire! Thou snake with two faces!” bellowed Merdyn.

  Jerabo had experienced weird volunteers before, but this one was the full fruit-and-nutcake. He looked anxiously to the side of the stage again. To his relief, he saw two burly security guards waiting for his signal.

  “Thou will suffer for what thou has done to me, thou piece of caffledecack1!” spat Merdyn.

  All right, enough’s enough, thought Jerabo the Great. And he nodded to the security team.

  When the two burly guards rushed on to the stage, Rose knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Merdyn turned on his heels, waved Thundarian through the air in a figure of eight and cried, “GELIDA GLACIA FROSTORA!” Quick as a flash, he trapped the guards inside solid blocks of ice. *ZZZFRING** The poor guards were frozen in a running position, which made them look like cartoon characters. Rose could just make out their terrified eyes darting from side to side, wondering what on earth had just happened.

  The crowd gasped like they’d never gasped before. Whether this was part of the show or not, it was brilliant!

  “What’s he doing now?” cried Suzy.

  “Would you like me to call for back-up?” asked Sergeant Murray. “Turning people into solid blocks of ice is definitely a crime under section 34 of the Grievous Bodily Harm Act.”

  Rose’s mum didn’t know what to say. She’d never had a member of the family encase someone inside a block of ice before.

  “We need to get on to the stage!” Rose said. “NOW!”

  Rose and her mum started shuffling their way along the row of seats. It wasn’t easy. By now, the entire audience were holding their phones in their outstretched arms, recording the spectacle onstage.

  The crowd’s enthusiasm was not shared by Jerabo the Great. “I … I don’t know who you think I am,” he stammered as Merdyn strode menacingly towards him, “but I’m a black belt in karate. If you come any nearer, I’ll be forced into attack mode …” He held up his hands in a karate pose. The magician’s words rang hollow, however, as everybody could see his hands were shaking like leaves on a very blustery day.