Witch Twins and the Ghost of Glenn Bly (7 page)

Again, the twins shook their heads.

“It means,” said Grandy with a gleeful grin, “that we can cast a very BIG spell in this room, using the leftover magic of our ancient Bramblewine relatives!”

Then she cackled her special five-star cackle and clapped her hands. Claire shivered. At midnight, in her velvet robes, Grandy always seemed more frightening than she did by day in her gaucho pants and golf visor.

“Let’s get to work,” said Grandy. “Tonight, we’ll brew up a spell more splendid than all of our stars put together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Twins, look sharp, and do what I do! I’ve got a plan!”

Keeping one finger held on its spine, Grandy then sidestepped away from the Book of All Records. The twins did the same.

“Light,
blight,
” Grandy intoned.

The candles guttered and the room darkened.

“Now step counterclockwise,” Grandy instructed the twins softly. “Each step will move us back one hundred years. We’re walking back to 1616.”

Her long robe dragged up layers of dust as she began to move backward. So did Luna’s robe. Claire scuffled her feet, trying to float up some of her own dust. But since she was wearing long Johns, it was basically impossible. She wished she had remembered her robe! Crumbs, she was a bad suitcase packer!

After four ponderous paces, Grandy stopped. She closed her eyes, raised her hands, and intoned:

“Calling Bramblewines of yore,

We borrow stars from years before.”

In the pause that followed, Claire’s pinkie felt extra tingly.

She checked to see if anything in the room was different. Nothing.

“No peeking!” hissed Grandy, who had also been peeking. “Eyes closed, mind open!” Then she continued:

“Scrawny ghost of ancient castle,

Come back and bring your ghostly passel.

Rescue Glenn Bly from its plight—

Rush forward through this haunted night.”

“Okay, now you can look,” Grandy whispered.

Claire opened her eyes. She saw candlelit shadows on the wall tremble, then multiply, blending and crowding together as they changed shape. No longer simply reflected flames, the new silhouettes made images of heads and shoulders and arms raised high.

Claire turned, stupefied, to see that an army of ghostly knights had slowly filled the room. She recognised many faces from the tapestry of the Battle of Sodden Field. If they had been flesh-and-blood people, there would have been far too many forms to fit inside one room. But these soft phantoms simply folded, overlapped, and passed through one another.

Hundreds of them.

“Ruins and revenants!” Claire exclaimed. (
Revenant
was Claire’s new word of the day. It was just a fancy word for ghost.)

“Sir Percival!” said Luna, pointing out the familiar young knight who stood proudly among the others.

Sir Percival took Luna’s cry as an introduction. He nodded and then with grave ceremony stepped up onto the table.

“Speech! Speech!” cheered the ghosts, raising their swords and spears and battle-axes. Percival held his hand up for silence.

“We are here at your most powerful summons, madam,” Sir Percival declared to Grandy. “We are the Knightly Order of Glenn Bly, nearly four hundred men strong!”

As the army cheered and whistled, Sir Percival dropped to his knee and bowed his head in Grandy’s direction. “Good Bramblewine Witch, we are at your command!”

Claire was relieved that Percival did not seem to be holding any grudges against Grandy for that afternoon’s popping.

“Well, thanks,” said Grandy shyly, overwhelmed by the power of her own spell. She cleared her throat. “Then I command you to drive out the blasted Lord and Lady Screechybird! I’d have done it myself and saved you the bother, if they weren’t so darn spellproof.”

“No bother at all!” trumpeted Sir Percival. He spoke with extra confidence, now that he had a cheering ghost brigade at his dispatch.

“They’re sleeping in our room. Elderberry Chamber,” said Claire. “By the way, we’d love to get our bed back. We had to move into Humdrum Chamber, and it’s damp and the ceiling drips and—”

“Men! To Elderberry Chamber!” Sir Percival commanded.

With Grandy, Claire, and Luna tagging behind, the battalion of knights lost no time stampeding down the stairs. But this was not the deafening noise one might expect. Four hundred ghosts running downstairs end up making about as much noise as distant thunder.

Still, four hundred ghosts are a lot spookier than one.

Halfway down the hall, Claire saw a small shape dart forward. She drew back with a gasp. What was that? A dog?

No, it was the same little black goat from earlier that day.

The goat had enjoyed snacking on Lord Shrillingbird’s slipper so much that he had bravely tip-hoofed it back to the castle in search of the other one.

“Meh-eh-eh-eh!” bleated the goat, startled by the sudden spectacle of witches and ghosts. Sensing his opportunity, he trotted after them straight into Elderberry Chamber.

The thudding, clamorous, clanking ghosts woke up Lord and Lady Shrillingbird in an instant.

“Who goes there?” whispered Lady Shrillingbird.

“I don’t see anything,’“ said Lord Shrillingbird.

Lucky for them, Claire realized, Grandy had snapped herself and the twins with a five-minute invisibility spell.

“But don’t you hear those thuds and clanks?” hissed Lady Shrillingbird, sitting up.

“Mmph. It’s just the bad plumbing,” said Lord Shrillingbird. “This castle is leaky and creaky.”

“But…what about that icy draft?” Lady Shrillingbird shivered.

“That,” said Lord Shrillingbird, “is the faulty heating.”

“I think you should investigate,” squeaked Lady Shrillingbird, poking her husband in the ribs. “What if it’s a ghost?”

“Bah! A ghost! You’ve lost your last marble, my lady. I’m staying put,” said Lord Shrillingbird. Though he looked as scared as his wife, Lord Shrillingbird was so used to arguing with her that he didn’t know how to take her side, even at this crucial moment.

On Sir Percival’s signal, some of the more playful knights began pulling on the curtains. A few others used all of their phantom might to rattle the windowpanes. And one daring young foot soldier started jumping on the edge of the Shrillingbirds’ bed, causing the springs to squeak slightly.

“Wow. This is even better than the Chain Chant spell,” Claire whispered to Luna. “These ghost guys are professionals!”

“Better than an ogre!” Luna whispered back.

By now, both Shrillingbirds looked terrified.

“I’m frightened!” peeped Lady Shrillingbird.

“I’m not!” But Lord Shrillingbird pulled up the covers and pressed his hands over his ears.

“Fool, you’re only saying that to be stubborn!” hissed Lady Shrillingbird. “I know a haunt when I hear it, and this castle’s got ghosts!” She hopped out of bed and began nervously running back and forth. “We’d better dash. Oh, how dreadful! Well never even be able to sell it, not with a ghost ruining its market value. Hurry, my lord. Time to bolt!”

“I’m not scared, and I don’t feel like dashing or bolting,” said Lord Shrillingbird disagreeably. Then he pretended to be relaxed by stretching his hands behind his head and wriggling his toes.

When the goat caught sight of all those delicious-looking, wriggling toes—almost as good as a slipper—he took hold of one and gave it a gentle nibble.

“Argh!” Lord Shrillingbird jumped out of bed and flung himself into Lady Shrillingbird’s arms. “The ghost just bit me!”

“Dimwit! Ghosts don’t bite!” said Lady Shrillingbird, smirking.

“Sometimes they do!”

“Do not!”

“Do so—argh!” Lord Shrillingbird yelped as the goat nipped for a taste of his ankle. “I think I might, actually…agree with you, my lady. Perhaps we ought to get out of here!”

So Lady Shrillingbird grabbed her purse, then hoisted Lord Shrillingbird up and over her shoulder like a sack of grain. Then she ran for it, speeding down the hall and taking the stairs three at a time.

“Whoa. Lady Shrill sure can move,” whispered Claire. “She’d win relays at Tower Hill Middle, easy.”

Grandy the twins, the ghosts, and the goat followed hard on the Shrillingbirds’ heels. They tailed them through Glenn Bly’s iron-hinged doors and all the way down the lawn, to where the Rolls-Royce was parked.

“We’re safe, we’re free!” squealed Lady Shrillingbird. “Safe and free!” She swung open the car door and tossed her husband in the back.

“Step on it!” yelped Lord Shrillingbird.

Lady Shrillingbird hopped in the driver’s seat and revved the engine. With a screech of tires, the Shrillingbirds’ car plowed across the lawn and disappeared down the hill and into the darkness.

“
Adios,
creeps!” called Claire.

The goat bleated agreement. Lord Shrillingbird’s toes had left a terrible, crumbled-cheese aftertaste.

“They’re better off in the city, anyway,” declared Luna. “There’s more stuff to complain about in cities.”

Grandy yawned. “Twins, you’ll catch cold if you stay outside too long. It’s your life, but I’d get back to bed. And thank you, Sir Percival,” she added, with a nod to the knight, “for a job well done.”

Then she snapped her fingers and vanished into the mist.

“A three-star spell,” murmured Claire. “Crumbs, I wish I knew how to do it. Well, maybe next year.”

“What a lovely night,” said Sir Percival.

Claire looked up. The knight was right. It was cold and beautiful. A full moon hung in the navy blue sky. The silvery moonlight and the silvery light of the ghostly knights shone softly over the meadow.

But something strange was happening.

“Look around, Clairsie,” said Luna. “The ghosts are fading.”

Sure enough, right before Claire’s eyes, the ghosts were beginning to curl up along their edges. The faint popping as each departed—
plip blip plip
—sounded like a thousand bath bubbles were escaping into the air.

“Where are they going?” wondered Claire.

“Off to haunt another needy castle?” suggested Luna.

Together, the twins watched the misty veil that sparkled in the air after the ghost knights were gone. Now the night was rich with a faint but sweet and lingering scent. Claire sniffed, then inhaled deeply. What was that delicious smell?

Then she knew.

Strawberries.

And then all at once, a heavy mass of clouds swept across the clear sky, hiding the moon and stars.

“Oh, no, not again!” wailed Luna. “Here comes the rain!”

W
HEN LUNA WOKE UP
the next morning, she could feel the difference immediately. Maybe it was on account of her witch-smarts, or maybe it was because she was a light sleeper. But something about Glenn Bly seemed a little bit less creaky and a little bit more cheery.

She leaped out of bed and ran directly to the window. What she saw outside made her smile with delight.

Instead of a brown and wintry lawn, her eyes were dazzled by a field of blazing green.

“Claire!” she cried. “Come look!”

“Wha...?” Her sister rolled out from under the quilts and crept up sleepily behind her to see. “Thickets and thistledown! It’s like summertime in November!” exclaimed Claire. “Now, here’s the Scotland I always wanted!”

“Clairsie, I think what we’re looking at is a giant strawberry patch,” speculated Luna. “It’s right at the exact same place where all the ghosts popped.” She put her hands to her heart. “How romantic. The brave knights gave us something to remember them by.”

“Well, I’m remembering that I’m hungry. Let’s go get some strawberries for breakfast!” said Claire, pulling on her rainbow-sleeves jacket.

Together, the twins flew out into the cold morning, which was filled with summertime smells. They plomped right down in the middle of the strawberry patch, and soon were feasting on the biggest, juiciest, most divine wild straw berries they’d ever tasted in their lives.

“Mmm-mmm. Even if we didn’t end up with half-stars for driving out the Shrillingbirds, these strawberries were worth the effort,” said Claire, sitting back to wipe her strawberry-stained hands on the grass.

“Hey, here comes Daphne.” Luna pointed just as Daphne rode up on a shiny blue bicycle with a straw handlebar basket.

When Daphne saw the strawberries, she nearly fell off her seat. “We have to tell Grandpop!” she exclaimed. “Or better yet, let’s show him. Hurry, help me fill this basket!”

Quickly, they picked strawberries until Daphne’s basket was full. When they called Mac down to the kitchen and presented the basket, then pointed out toward the field, his eyes filled with wonder.

“I don’t believe it. Strawberries haven’t grown on this field since the terrible Battle of Sodden Field,” he said. “But I don’t understand. How could a field of strawberries just grow up overnight?”

Luna shrugged. “Mysterious things happen a lot in Scotland,” she said.

Mac pronged a berry between his thumb and finger. “With all-season strawberries, I suppose we’ll have plenty of visitors wanting to spend a weekend at our bed-and-breakfast. And that means perhaps well be able to purchase Glenn Bly back from the Shrillingbirds,” he said. His eyes glowed with future plans and prospects. “And then we’ll turn some of this land into a public park, for people to visit. Would you like that, Daphne?”

“Like it?” Daphne jumped up and down. “I couldn’t think of a better birthday present!”

Then everyone felt terrible, because in all the excitement they had forgotten that today was Daphne’s birthday. Everyone, that is, except for Mac, who had given her the new blue bicycle earlier that morning.

“Crumbs, we don’t even have any gifts for her,” Luna whispered behind her hand to her twin.

Luckily, when Grandy and Grampy came home later (after placing second-to-last in the golf tournament) they were able to wrap up a couple of items from the Silver Loch Pro Shop that they had been planning to give Justin.

“Not that a golf umbrella and three pairs of athletic socks are the greatest gift, but I guess they’re better than nothing,” said Luna.

“Yeah, and thank goodness for those strawberries,” said Claire, “otherwise Daphne wouldn’t have had a very good birthday from us, gifts-wise.”