Potions and Pageants Read online

  “Lady and mistress,” said Nan. “You father was a demon. He was never my lord and master. And he’s not your father anymore. Get with the new times. This is our life now.”

  “Hush!” hissed Percy, looking around with concern. She was glad to see no sign of Jeeves’s ears sticking out of any walls.

  She whispered, “Actually it’s probably best not to let anyone know about all this. They’ll think we’ve gone mad. Jeeves or Mr Bramble are bound to tell mum if they overhear.”

  “Ha! So you do care what your mum thinks.”

  “No, I just don’t want her to think I’m an even bigger disappointment than she already does.”

  The two girls hurried up to Percy’s bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them and locked it. Nan dropped the pizza box onto Percy’s bed.

  “How come your mum still lets Mr Bramble live here?” asked Nan. “I thought hegs hated the city. Why hasn’t he left for the country by now? People are so mean calling hegs horrid little weirdos. Do you remember at that party of your mum’s once when that incubus was saying hegs are creepy and mean and—”

  “Yes, I do!” snapped Percy. “And mum transfigured him into a toad to teach him a lesson. Served him right. I don’t believe what anyone says about hegs and I thought you didn’t either. Mr Bramble is perfectly nice.”

  Nan looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Good,” said Percy. “I thought you liked him.”

  “I did. I do!” Nan looked a little doubtful, as if she wasn’t sure any more.

  Feeling a little mollified, Percy threw herself down to the bed, opened the box of pizza, and took a big bite. Her eyes popped wide as she munched.

  “Is it just me or do things taste even better now that our memories have come back?”

  “It’s not just you. I had a slice of cake earlier that could have sprouted wings and a halo and carried me up to the great big beyond, it was that good.”

  Percy nodded. She was busy tasting the explosion of flavors against her tongue, and enjoying the creamy, gooey goodness of the cheese, and the peppery crunch of the peppers and the sweetness of the sweetcorn.

  “Mmmmm!” she said, still munching. “Best dinner ever. What would top this off perfectly is a big bowl of ice cream.”

  “We would have had some tonight it you hadn’t decided to drive that stupid car,” said Nan sourly.

  “It’s not my fault,” said Percy. “Who expects a darn rabbit to be in the middle of a road in Central London? It’s absolutely unheard of.”

  “Did it get away?” said Nan anxiously.

  “Dunno. It wasn’t in the ambulance with us, was it?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “You know what would have been really funny? The look on that horrid Octavia Smythe-Smith’s face when I turned up to her party.”

  Nan’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you know Octavia?”

  “No, but I heard her at the Ice Cream Hut going on and on about her Quiz Party thing and how everyone was going to love it. Her name was plastered over her posters as if she was famous. And you should have seen the look she gave me as I read one of them, like I was dirt under her shoe. Does she go to your school?”

  Nan nodded.

  “So what is she?” Percy asked. “A bit odd, I thought. Something about her…”

  “Half vampire,” said Nan. “Daywalker.”

  “Cool!” said Percy.

  “If you say so,” said Nan grumpily.

  “Ha! You don’t like her,” said Percy. “Me either. I was going to buy every single raffle ticket of hers, and win that stupid holiday prize she was going on about, and then she could never have been able to say her night was a raging success without thinking of me, the frightful green-haired weirdo. Ha!”

  “Hmmm…” said Nan.

  “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have loved it too. I bet she’s been stealing your thunder. Admit it!”

  “I would have felt sorry for her if you rubbed it in her face like that,” said Nan firmly. “You have no idea the effort it takes to plan that kind of event. Hiring out the whole venue, the decorating, selling all those tickets, getting people to donate things, not to mention all the brainstorming and coordinating people and—”

  “Urgh. Kill me now,” said Percy.

  Nan shot her a scathing look. “You nearly did,” she said primly.

  “Don’t play Miss Goodie Two Shoes with me. I know you are dying for your beauty pageant to outdo her quiz party.”

  “So what if I am? But instead of being at home working on it, I’m here watching you eat leftover pizza!”

  “Gosh, you sound positively emotional,” said Percy. “Isn’t it weird to think that we aren’t really who we are, and that there is no point getting overly involved in all these worldly things?”

  “But we are who we are now!” said Nan heatedly. “I am Nanette Gooding! You are Persephone Prince. It is no use acting like you are who you used to be. That life is over now and it is never coming back and you had better get used to it!”

  There was a long moment of silence while they both contemplated this.

  Percy sighed. “I guess you’re right. It’s alright for you with your magic and all these plans you have for things that you want to do—” Percy gave a great huff of frustration. “Forget it. I don’t even know why I asked you to come here tonight. It’s not like any of this changes anything really, does it? Our lives are just the same as they always were.”

  She looked at Nan. To her great disappointment Nan did not say anything. It was like Nan agreed — as if she was glad that tonight’s epiphany did not change anything.

  Percy swallowed a lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

  For a moment then it had felt so good to have a friend again.

  She bounded out of her bed, marched to her bedroom door and flung it wide open. “Never mind. You might as well leave.”

  Nan had been perched on the edge of the bed. Now she stood and smoothed down her skirt and avoided looking into Percy’s eyes as she crossed the room. Percy saw the hint of relief on Nan’s face.

  Nan hesitated by the door. “Look, you have your own life now, and I have mine,” she said in a falsely cheerful and reasonable voice. “A demon and cherub were never really meant to be friends. So all of this is probably for the best, right?”

  She had a look on her face as if she was desperate for Percy to agree. For Percy to let her off the hook.

  Percy nodded stiffly. “Right.”

  Nan looked immensely relieved. “Great, then, er… we can just go back to… er, how things were. And there’s no need to talk about any of this again?”

  “Whatever.”

  In the silence that followed both of the girls awkwardly stood there, trying not to look at each other. There came a rat-a-tat-tat on the open door.

  Unnoticed by either of them, Mr Bramble had arrived on the landing outside the bedroom and was waiting to get their attention.

  The stricken look in his beetle black eyes alarmed Percy. They were overly shiny and full of foreboding.

  “What is it Mr Bramble? Are you alright?”

  “You’ve really done it now, Persephone Prince,” he said, his stout little body quivering. “My mother always said don’t ask for trouble because it is certain to come knocking. The Eldritch Council is here to see you!”

  4. The Eldritch Council

  “The Eldritch Council?” gasped Nan, looking horrified.

  “Yes, two whole people,” confirmed Mr Bramble. “Downstairs. A scary man and a scary, scary woman.” He whispered that last bit, as if afraid the pair might hear him.

  Percy’s stomach sank like a rock. The Eldritch Council was among the most ominous words that he could have said, and even more ominous than the thought of the Humble police being downstairs.

  Earlier tonight, driving while underage had seemed a not unreasonable thing to do. After all, how often did the Humble police really ever stop people while driving? But right now
, post-crash, it seemed like it had been the stupidest idea that she had ever had.

  “Bet you’re not feeling like the daughter of a Lord of Hell now,” muttered Nan under her breath.

  Percy glowered at Nan, feeling all the more sore because Nan was right.

  Demonling would have laughed at Percy’s present dilemma. To Demonling this would have seemed a trifling matter. But Percy was no longer Demonling. Percy Prince was the lowly Meek daughter of an absentee witch mother, who had tasked Percy to make sure above all that she did not cause any issues in Humble society. And now Percy had caused an issue in Humble society.

  Despite her jest, Nan still had a look of horror on her face that showed that she understood just how bad things must be if a member of the Eldritch Council came to your house so late on a Saturday night.

  “You stay here,” said Percy. “I will deal with this.”

  “Oh no you won’t,” said Nan. “I’m coming with you. You’ll only make things much worse for yourself.”

  Mr Bramble followed them down the stairs. “I didn’t open the door,” he explained. “Because you know that the Eldritch Council don’t like us hegs to be living in London, and I’m not registered as living in your garden…”

  His voice trailed off. He looked immensely worried.

  “Don’t worry, Mr Bramble,” said Percy soothingly. “We won’t let them know you are here. Why don’t you head back to your home now?”

  “But if you didn’t open the door,” said Nan, “how did you know they’re from the Eldritch Council? Maybe they’re not?”

  She had a look of hope on her face.

  “He’s definitely from the council. He had that look about him,” said Mr Bramble darkly, before hurrying off.

  Nan went to the kitchen to make some tea, as if this would help matters, and threw a warning at Percy over her shoulder.

  “Don’t say anything stupid until I come back.”

  Percy let the people from the Eldritch Council inside.

  The man stepped over the threshold, took an assessing look around the entrance hall. He was tall and gaunt and forbidding, dressed all in somber black, with very neat limp brown hair and even neater square glasses.

  He pushed them up his nose and said rather disapprovingly, “You did not ask for our identification.”

  Percy scowled at him equally disapprovingly. “Then why didn’t you show it to me?”

  His face became even more forbidding. He was eyeing her dark green hair with intense dislike, as if this told him everything he needed to know about her.

  “It would be best if you did not take that tone with me, young lady,” he said in a silky voice.

  Percy rolled her eyes. “And how can I help you today, mister?”

  But then she caught sight of the woman behind the man and Percy got the shock of her entire fifteen years of life.

  The woman was glorious. A statuesque blond with mesmerizing eyes and skin that shone as if it was made of pure light.

  This was a woman Percy had not seen in fifteen years and who she had thought she might never see again.

  Mother, Percy was about to squeak. But the woman shook her head firmly to shut Percy up.

  And Percy did, her mouth snapping shut immediately.

  For this was not her mortal mother. This was no Gwendolyn Prince, who Percy had thought was bad enough.

  This woman was her heavenly Mother, or hellish Mother depending on how you looked at it. A fallen angel who had married a Lord of Hell. She might be in a human body now, but Percy could never not know her own Mother.

  Percy’s mouth had gone dry. She was surprised her knees were not knocking. Not from fear, but from pure shock.

  “Councilor,” the sour-faced man said loudly, trying to regain Percy’s attention.

  “Huh?” said Percy.

  “You will address me as Councilor,” he said. “I am Councilor Archibald Strickt of the Eldritch Council.”

  He paused a moment as if he expected her to acknowledge this ominous information with a bow or a squeak of fright, or something other than the goggle eyed look she was still giving her Mother.

  Councilor Strickt gave a huff of impatience when Percy said nothing. Nodding towards Mother, he said, “And this is Madam Ruth Glory, the new Headmistress of Humble High School.”

  “Ruthless Glory at your service,” said Mother, extending her hand for Percy to shake.

  Percy did not take it. Mother had thrown her away like she meant nothing at all as she recalled, and Percy was beginning to feel angry.

  What right did she have to come here to Percy’s new mother’s house? If Mother thought she was going to just walk back into Percy’s life as if nothing had happened, then she had another think coming.

  “Are you at home alone, Miss Prince?” demanded Councilor Strickt. “Where is your guardian?”

  “Out,” said Percy shortly.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Out all the time as I understand it,” he said smoothly. “On a permanent basis in fact.”

  Percy stiffened. Headmistress Glory, for Percy was determined to think of her as Headmistress Glory henceforth, had a little smile playing on the corners of her lips that Percy did not like at all.

  Nan chose that moment to bustle into the hallway carrying a large tray heaving under the weight of several teacups and a large teapot and a plate full of biscuits. She took one look at Headmistress Glory and her face went ghostly pale and the tray rattled ominously.

  It would have gone crashing to the ground if Percy had not had the foresight to grab it.

  With wide eyes still fixed on Headmistress Glory, Nan said in a wobbly voice, “Shall we go into the lounge?”

  She shot Percy a frantic look, as if asking what in holy heck was going on.

  “Who is this other young lady?” demanded Councilor Strickt.

  “My friend, Nan,” said Percy.

  The councilor removed a notepad from his pocket and made a notation of this fact. He flipped back a page and consulted the information he had written earlier.

  “Miss Nanette Gooding, resident of Clanricarde Gardens?”

  Looking alarmed, Nan nodded.

  He continued, “Witch. Daughter of Mrs Daisy Gooding, also a witch, and Mr Frank Gooding, a Humble.”

  Nan looked flustered. “Er, yes.” She followed Percy into the lounge, and dumped her heavy tray onto the coffee table beside the couches.

  Councilor Strickt was still consulting his notepad. “Student at Humble High School,” he raised an eyebrow as if this fact displeased him. “Is that right?”

  Nan’s cheeks went pink. “Yes,” she said. “My mum prefers us to be part of the Humble community because of my dad, but mum does homeschool me in magic,” she added quickly. “After school, and on weekends.”

  “Hmmpff!” said Councilor Strickt. “Witches should go to a witching school as far as I am concerned.”

  “It’s not against the Conclave of Magic’s rules for witches to be educated at home by their parents,” interjected Headmistress Glory smoothly. Her voice was ringing and clear and commanding, and Nan flinched when she heard it.

  “And my mother is very diligent,” added Nan a bit squeakily.

  The mention of the Conclave of Magic had made the corners of Councilor Strickt’s mouth turn even further downwards. He had taken a sip of his tea, but his lips puckered as if he had tasted something sour.

  He gave Headmistress Glory an admonishing look as if she had spoken out of turn, but looked a tad disconcerted when she merely gazed back at him with a strange cool intensity.

  “It is correct,” he said stiffly, “that witches are usually outside of the Eldritch Council’s jurisdiction. However in Miss Gooding’s case, as her mother insists on taking part in life within the Humble and Eldritch communities, we at the Eldritch Council feel it is within our remit to keep our eyes on the situation.”

  “Are you suggesting,” said Headmistress Glory silkily, “that we at Humble High do not keep an adequate eye on our own stud
ents?”

  “Not at all,” said Councilor Strickt a tad resentfully.

  “Excellent,” said Headmistress Glory.

  “Sorry?” squeaked Nan. “But… What… Who…? Humble High?”

  Nan had not been present when the headmistress had first been introduced. She was now staring at Ruthless Glory with dawning horror.

  “Headmistress Glory is your school’s new headmistress,” said Councilor Strickt impatiently to Nan. “She will begin work this Monday.”

  Nan looked like she had swallowed a frog. A big one.

  Councilor Strickt continued, “You were the other girl involved in Miss Prince’s car crash today, were you not?”

  “Yes,” said Nan. “But as you can see we are both fine.”

  Giving him a bland smile, she picked up her tea cup and took a sip from it, and then spluttered as the hot liquid went down the wrong way.

  “All is well that ends well,” she choked out, looking not very well at all.

  Councilor Strickt looked carefully at both girls. “That will be for me to decide. You appear to be in remarkably good condition in comparison to the state of your cars,” he observed.

  “You’ve seen our cars?” said Percy.

  “Indeed,” he said coldly. “It has been my very onerous duty this Saturday evening to have to intercede on your behalf with the Humble police and to prevent the arrest of you, a witch’s daughter, who was driving a Humble vehicle without a license, aged just fifteen years old!”

  “For which I am sure Miss Prince is extremely regretful,” said Headmistress Glory with a raised eyebrow.

  Percy glared. “Sorry,” she said, not feeling particularly sorry at all.

  Councilor Strickt glowered. “You have endangered Humble and Eldritch relations with these antics of yours, Miss Prince. This is no small matter. The Council wishes me to assess what punishments are deemed —”

  “Would you like a biscuit?” said Nan, cutting him off and also offering the plate to him in hopes of distracting him from his train of thought.

  Clever Nan, thought Percy with a small smile.

  “Yes please. How lovely,” said Headmistress Glory, reaching for one of Jeeves’ special cashew nut cookies. “How polite of you girls to make tea. Really quite thoughtful of you.”