The Chrestomanci Series: Entire Collection Books 1-7. Diana Wynne Jones

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a reassuring look.

      To his astonishment, Janet was snatched away backwards into nothingness. The only thing which remained of her was a yell of surprise. And the same yell rumbled round the meadow. Everyone there was quite as astonished as Cat.

      “Oh good!” Gwendolen said, from the other side of the stone. “I got here in time.”

      Everyone stared at her. Gwendolen came from between the pillars, dusting off the dragon’s blood from her fingers with one of Cat’s school essays. Cat could see his signature at the top: Eric Emelius Chant, 26 Coven St, Wolvercote, England, Europe, The World, The Universe – it was his all right. Gwendolen still had her hair up in that strange headdress, but she had taken off the massive golden robes. She had on what must have amounted to underclothes in her new world. They were more magnificent than any of Chrestomanci’s dressing-gowns.

      “Gwendolen!” exclaimed Henry Nostrum. He pointed to the space Janet had vanished from. “What – who—?”

      “Just a replacement,” Gwendolen explained, in her airiest way. “I saw her and Cat here just now, so I knew—” She noticed Chrestomanci limply tied to the apple tree. “Oh good! You caught him! Just a moment.” She marched over to Chrestomanci and held up her golden underclothes in order to kick him hard on both shins. “Take that! And that!”

      Chrestomanci did not try to pretend the kicks did not hurt. He doubled up. The toes of Gwendolen’s shoes were as pointed as nails.

      “Now, where was I?” Gwendolen said, turning back to the Nostrum brothers. “Oh, yes. I thought I’d better come back because I wanted to see the fun, and I remembered I’d forgotten to tell you Cat has nine lives. You’ll have to kill him several times, I’m afraid.”

      “Nine lives!” shouted Henry Nostrum. “You foolish girl!”

      After that, there was such a shouting and outcry from every witch and warlock in the meadow, that no one could have heard anything else. From where Cat lay, he could see William Nostrum leaning towards Gwendolen, red in the face, both eyes whirling, bawling furiously at her, and Gwendolen leaning forward to shout back. As the noise died down a little, he heard William Nostrum booming, “Nine lives! If he has nine lives, you stupid girl, that means he’s an enchanter in his own right!”

      “I’m not stupid!” Gwendolen yelled back. “I know that as well as you do! I’ve been using his magic ever since he was a baby. But I couldn’t go on using it if you were going to kill him, could I? That’s why I had to go away. I think it was nice of me to come back and tell you. So there!”

      “How can you have used his magic?” demanded Henry Nostrum, even more put out than his brother.

      “I just did,” said Gwendolen. “He never minds.”

      “I do mind, rather,” Cat said from his uncomfortable slab. “I am here, you know.”

      Gwendolen looked down at him as if she was rather surprised that he was. But before she could say anything to Cat, William Nostrum was loudly shushing for silence. He was very agitated. He took a long shiny thing out of his pocket and nervously bent it about.

      “Silence!” he said. “We’ve gone too far to draw back now. We’ll just have to discover the boy’s weak point. We certainly can’t kill him unless we find it. He must have one. All enchanters do.” So saying, William Nostrum rounded on Cat and pointed the shiny thing at him. Cat was appalled to see that it was a long silver knife. The knife pointed at his face, even though William Nostrum’s eyes did not. “What is your weak point, boy? Out with it.”

      Cat was not saying. It seemed the only chance he had of keeping any of his lives.

      “I know,” said Gwendolen. “I did it. I put all his lives into a book of matches. They were easier to use like that. It’s in my room in the Castle. Shall I get it?”

      Everyone Cat could see from his uncomfortable position looked relieved to hear this. “That’s all right then,” said Henry Nostrum. “Can he be killed without burning a match?”

      “Oh yes,” said Gwendolen. “He drowned once.”

      “So the question,” said William Nostrum, very much relieved, “is simply how many lives he has left. How many have you, boy?” The knife pointed at Cat again.

      Again Cat was not saying.

      “He doesn’t know,” Gwendolen said impatiently. “I had to use quite a few. He lost one being born and another being drowned. And I used one to put him in the book of matches. It gave him cramps, for some reason. Then that toad tied up in silver there wouldn’t give me magic lessons and took my witchcraft away, so I had to fetch another of Cat’s lives in the night and make it send me to my nice new world. He was awfully disobliging about it, but he did it. And that was the end of that life. Oh, I nearly forgot! I put his fourth life into that violin he kept playing, to turn it into a cat – Fiddle – remember, Mr Nostrum?”

      Henry Nostrum clutched his two wings of hair. Consternation broke out round the meadow again. “You are a foolish girl! Someone took that cat away. We can’t kill him at all!”

      For a moment, Gwendolen looked very dashed. Then an idea struck her. “If I go away again, you can use my replacem—”

      The watch-chains round Chrestomanci chinked. “Nostrum, you’re upsetting yourself needlessly. It was I who had the cat-violin removed. The creature’s around in the garden somewhere.”

      Henry Nostrum swung round to look at Chrestomanci suspiciously, still hanging on to his two wings of hair as if that kept his mind in place. “I doubt you, sir, very seriously. You are known to be a very wily person.”

      “You flatter me,” said Chrestomanci. “Unfortunately I can’t speak anything but the truth tied up in silver like this.”

      Henry Nostrum looked at his brother. “That is correct,” William said, dubiously. “Silver constrains him to utter facts. Then I suppose the boy’s missing life must be here somewhere.”

      This was enough for Gwendolen, the Willing Warlock and for most of the witches and necromancers. Gwendolen said, “I’ll go and find it then,” and minced up the meadow towards the trees as fast as she could in her pointed shoes, with the Willing Warlock bouncing ahead. As they pushed past a witch in a high green hat, the witch said, “That’s right, dear. We must all hunt for the pussy.” She turned to the crowd with a witch’s piercing scream. “Hunt for pussy, everyone!”

      And everyone raced off to do it, picking up skirts and holding on Sunday hats. The meadow emptied. The trees round it shook and waved and crashed. But the garden would not let anyone get very far. Brightly coloured witches, cloaked wizards and dark warlocks kept being spilt out of the trees into the meadow again. Cat heard Chrestomanci say, “Your friends seem very ignorant, Nostrum. The way out is widdershins. Perhaps you should tell them so. The cat will certainly be in summer or spring.”

      William Nostrum gave him a swirling glare and hurried off shouting, “Widdershins, brothers and sisters! Widdershins!”

      “Let me tell you, sir,” Henry Nostrum said to Chrestomanci, “you are beginning to annoy me considerably.” He hovered for a second, but, as quite a crowd of people, with Gwendolen and the Willing Warlock among them, were whirled out of the trees into the meadow again, and seemed very indignant about it, Henry Nostrum set СКАЧАТЬ