Unexpected Magic (11 page)

Even before they were halfway up to the bedside cupboard, Anne knew that the only sensible thing to do was to pick the tray up and tip them back into the stewed apple. And then put the tray on top of them and press. But she could not bring herself to do anything so nasty. She stood and watched them climb on top of the cupboard. Enna Hittims stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the bedroom.

“We're in the giant's house now,” she said confidently.

“And he'll be a mountain of cat food before long,” said Spike. Marlene laughed with pleasure.

Anne ran out of the bedroom and shut the door with a slam. She ran down to the living room and stood with her hands together and her eyes shut. “Go away, all three of you!” she prayed. “Go. Disappear. Vanish. You're only made up!”

Then she went back upstairs to see if the prayer had worked. Her bedroom door was still shut, but there was some kind of purple tube sticking out from under the door. As Anne bent down to see what it was, she heard Enna Hittims's voice from behind the door. “Well, what
is
out there, Marlene?”

“A huge passage,” Marlene's voice replied. The tube was the mauve felt tip with its inside taken out. It swung sideways as Anne looked. “Oh!” said Marlene. “There's a giant out there now! I can see its toes.”

“Great!” said Enna Hittims. “Let's get after it.” There was a burring, splintering noise. The tip of Enna Hittims's enchanted sword, together with a lot of sawdust, made a neat half circle in the bottom of the bedroom door.

Anne ran away to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath, wondering what to do. She heard the voices of the three heroes out in the passage after a moment. She shut the bathroom door, very quietly. Nothing happened. After a while she felt she had better go and see what the heroes were doing.

There was a hole like a mousehole in the bottom of her bedroom door. The heroes were on their way downstairs. Anne could hear Enna Hittims saying, “Come
on
, Marlene! Just let yourself drop and Spike will catch you.” They seemed to be halfway down. Anne went down cautiously to see how they were doing it. They seemed to be letting themselves down on the rope tied to Spike's magic spike. Marlene was dangling and spinning on the rope. To Anne's surprise, she was wearing a new dress of a pretty harebell blue.

“Ooh! It's so high!” she said.

“Don't be so feeble!” said Enna Hittims. “We're halfway down.”

Spike was keeping guard. “There's a giant on the stairs above us,” he said quietly.

Enna Hittims glanced up at Anne. “You two go on,” she said. “It's only a small one. You two get down and look for the big giants, while I slice off a few of this one's toes to keep it busy.”

Anne was forced to run back to the bathroom again, rather than lose her toes. Then she realized that her bedroom was safe now and went back there. It was in the most awful mess, even if you did not count the lunch in the bed. The heroes had pulled books and jigsaws and games out of the shelves. Enna Hittims had slashed Anne's piggy bank to bits with her sword, but she obviously had not thought that 50p in pence was much of a treasure, and she had cut some of the money up, too. Spike had pulled out Anne's records. She could see the scratches his spike had made, right across her favorite ones. One of them had scribbled with a mauve felt tip across most of Anne's drawings. But it was Marlene who had done the worst damage. She had cut a ragged circle out of Anne's best sweater in order to make herself her new dress.

That made Anne so angry that she almost ran downstairs. By now she hated all three heroes. Enna Hittims was bossy and bloodthirsty. Spike was a vandal. And Marlene was so awful that she deserved the way Enna Hittims ordered her about! Anne wished she had never invented them. But it was plain she was not going to get rid of them by just wishing. She was going to have to do something, however nasty that might be.

As she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, quaking but determined, there was a ringing
SMASH
! from the living room and the sound of smithereens pattering on the carpet. Anne knew it was the big china lamp her mother was so fond of.

The heroes came scampering around the living room door into the hall. “Too many hazards in there,” Enna Hittims announced. “Now let's see. We're sure the small purple-faced giant is only a servant left on guard. Where can we go to kill the big ones when they come back?”

“The kitchen,” said Spike. “They'll want to eat.”

“Us, probably,” Marlene quavered.

“Don't moan, Marlene,” said Enna Hittims. “Right. To the kitchen!” She held her sword up and led the other two at a run around the open kitchen door.

Something in the kitchen went ching-
BOING
! and there was the glop-glop-glop of liquid running out of a bottle. “Oh, no!” said Anne. She had left the milk bottle on the floor while she was looking for Tibby. Worse still, she remembered the way Tibby always knew when there was milk on the floor. She could not let Tibby get in the way of the enchanted sword. She ran across the hall.

“My new dress is soaked!” she heard Marlene whine. Then came the sound of Tibby's cat flap opening. Marlene gasped, “A monster!”

“What a splendid one!” Enna Hittims cried ringingly. “You two guard my rear while I kill it.”

By the time Anne got to the kitchen, Enna Hittims was standing in a warlike attitude facing Tibby, barring Tibby's way to the pool of milk on the floor. And Tibby, who had no kind of idea about enchanted swords, was crouching with her tail swishing, staring eagerly at Enna Hittims. It was clear she thought the hero was a new kind of mouse.

Anne charged through the kitchen and caught Tibby just as she sprang. “Oh-ho!” shouted Enna Hittims. The enchanted sword swung at Anne's right foot. Spike sprang at Anne's left foot and stabbed. Tibby struggled and clawed. But Anne hung on to Tibby in spite of it all. She ran out into the hall, kicking the kitchen door shut behind her, and did not let go of Tibby until the door was shut. Then she dropped Tibby. Tibby stood in a ruffled hump, giving Anne the look that meant they would not be on speaking terms for some time, and then stalked away upstairs.

Anne sat on the bottom stair, watching blood ooze from a round hole in her left big toe and more blood trickle from a deep cut under her right ankle. “How lucky I didn't invent them poisoned weapons!” she said. She sat and thought. Surely one ordinary-sized girl ought to be able to defeat three inch-high heroes, if she went about it the right way. She needed armor really.

She went thoughtfully up to her bedroom. Tibby was now crouched on Anne's bed, delicately picking pieces of macaroni cheese out of the stewed apple. Tibby loved cheese. She looked up at Anne with the look that meant “Stop me if you dare!”

“You eat it,” said Anne. “Be my guest. Stuff yourself. It'll keep you up here out of danger.” She got dressed. She put on her toughest jeans and her hard shoes and her thickest sweater and then the zip-up plastic jacket to make quite sure. She tied the covers of her drawing book around her legs to make even more sure. Then she collected a handful of shoelaces, string, and belts and picked up the tray. It had little regular notches in it where Enna Hittims had carved her footholds. Mrs. Harvey would not be pleased.

She shut her bedroom door to keep Tibby in there and went down to the living room. She stepped over the pieces of the china lamp to the dining area and fetched out the tea trolley. Then she spent quite a long time tying the tray to the front of the trolley, testing it, and tying it again. When she had it tied firmly, so that it grated along the carpet as the trolley was pushed, and nothing an inch high could possibly get under the bottom edge of the tray, Anne picked up the poker. She was ready.

She wheeled the armored trolley out through the hall. By lying on her stomach across the top of it, she managed to reach the handle of the kitchen door and open it quietly. She looked warily inside.

She was in luck. The three heroes thought they had defeated her. They were relaxing, filling their waterskins at the edge of the pool of milk. “Now remember to go for the big giants' eyes,” Enna Hittims was saying. “You can hold on to their ears if they have short hair.”

“No, you can't!” Anne shouted. She shoved off with one foot and sent the trolley through the pool of milk toward them. The tray raised a tidal wave in front of it as it went. The heroes had to leap back and run, or they would have been submerged. They ran across the kitchen, shouting angrily. Anne followed them with the trolley. This way and that, they ran. But the trolley was good at turning this way and that, too. Anne pushed with her foot, and pushed. Whenever the heroes tried to run to one side of the tray, she leaned over and jabbed at them with the poker to keep them in front of it. Spike's spike tinged against the tray. Enna Hittims carved several pieces off the poker. But it did no good. Within minutes, Anne had pushed and prodded and herded them up against the back door where the cat flap was. She let them hew angrily at the tray, while she leaned over and pushed the cat flap open with the poker.

“There's a way out!” squeaked Marlene.

“Stupid! It's just tempting us!” shouted Enna Hittims.

But Anne gave the heroes no choice. She held the cat flap open and shoved hard with her foot. The tray went right up against the door. The heroes were forced to leap out through the cat flap or be squashed.

“We'll get in another way!” Enna Hittims shouted angrily as the flap banged shut.

“No, you won't!” said Anne. She left the trolley pushed against the door, and she overturned the kitchen table and pushed that up against the back of the trolley to keep it there.

She was just setting off to make sure all the windows were shut when she heard a car outside. It was the unmistakable, growly sound of her father turning the car around in the road before he backed down into the garage. A glance at the kitchen clock showed Anne that he was back almost two hours early.

“I can't let them stab his eyes!” she gasped. She raced through the hall, her head full of visions of the heroes standing on the garden wall and climbing up Mr. Smith as he walked back around from the garage. She dragged the front door open and made warning gestures with the poker.

Mr. Smith smiled at her through the back window of the car. The car was already swinging round backward into the driveway. Anne stood where she was, with the poker raised. She held her breath. The heroes were standing about halfway up the drive. Marlene was pointing at the car and gasping as usual. “Another monster!”

“Go for its big black feet!” Enna Hittims shouted, and she led the three heroes at a run toward the car.

Mr. Smith never saw them. He backed briskly down the drive. Halfway there, the heroes saw the danger. Marlene screamed, and they all turned and ran the other way. But the car, even slowing down, was moving far faster than they could run. Anne watched the big, black, zigzag-patterned tire roll over on top of them. There was the tiniest possible crunching. Much as she hated the heroes by now, Anne let her breath out with a shudder.

Before Anne could lower the poker, there was a sharp hiss. The enchanted sword, and perhaps the magic spike, too, could still do damage. Mr. Smith jumped out of the car. Anne ran across the lawn, and they both watched the right-hand back tire sink into a flat squashiness.

Mr. Smith looked ruefully from the tire to Anne's face. “Your face has gone down, too,” he said. “Did you know?”

“
Has
it?” Anne put up her hand to feel. The mumps were now only two small lumps on either side of her chin.

While she was feeling them, her father turned and got something out of the car. “Here you are,” he said. He passed her a fat new drawing book and a large pack of felt tips. “I knew you were going to run out of drawing things today.”

Anne looked at the rows of different colors and the thick book of paper. She knew her father hated going to the drawing shop. There was never anywhere to park, and he always got a parking ticket. But he had gone there specially and then come home early to give them to her. “Thanks!” she said. “Er—I'm afraid there's rather a mess indoors.”

Mr. Smith smiled cheerfully. “Then isn't it lucky you're so much better?” he said. “You can tidy up while I'm putting the spare wheel on.”

It seemed fair, Anne thought. She turned toward the house, wondering where to start. The macaroni, the china lamp, or the milk? She looked down at the pack of felt tips while she tried to decide. They were a different make from the old lot. That was a good thing. She was fairly sure that it was her drawings that had brought Enna Hittims and her friends to life like that. The old felt tips would not have been called Magic Markers for nothing.