Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

the
edge of the moat.
    ‘Give
me the thirteenth Sign!’ he cried.
    ‘I
haven’t got it,’ said Wenik, trying to get away, ‘I don’t know where it is.’
    As the
magician moved towards him Wenik gave him a desperate push. Catweazle
staggered, lost his balance, and fell backwards into the moat. For a moment his
body seemed to lie in the water. Then, once again, he bounced up on to the
bank. Wenik’s mouth dropped open, and he fainted at Catweazle’s feet.
    Groome
appeared in the distance and Catweazle sped off through the grounds, and the
Collingford household were far too busy reviving Wenik to go after him.
    ‘Bounced
out! Bone dry!’ gasped Wenik, and he returned to London by the very next train
and spent several weeks visiting another doctor, also used to curing people who
suffered from hallucinations.
    For the
Collingfords the affair was another of the many unsolved mysteries of that
summer. Groome decided to keep very quiet if anything odd should happen to him
in the future, but he still spent the next few days keeping a sharp lookout for
Catweazle.
    The old
magician finally accepted that his water magic would no longer work and that
from now on he would remain in the world of electrickery. In any case he had no
real desire to return to his old world now that the Normans had made it so
dangerous.
    Cedric
sat with him, reading the ancient book of magic, while Catweazle struggled with
‘I am a Little Dog’. There was no sound in Duck Halt except the crackling of
the Sacred Fire.
    ‘Time’s
running out,’ said Cedric softly.
    ‘Ay,’
muttered Catweazle.
    ‘School
starts soon,’ said Cedric.
    ‘The
nights are colder,’ said Catweazle. ‘I have the bone-ache.’
    He
pulled his robe round him and leant nearer to the fire. His shadow flickered on
the wall in the orange fight.
    ‘If we
only knew where to look,’ said Cedric, dreaming of the lost treasure.
    ‘I
would fly...’ murmured Catweazle, twisting his forefinger in his dirty beard.
    ‘I
would save Kings Farthing,’ said Cedric, staring into the fire.

14
     

THE THIRTEENTH SIGN
     
    Time had finally run out for Lord and Lady Collingford and
they had decided to sell their home. They stood at the window and watched the
leaves falling on the croquet lawn from the big chestnut trees.
    ‘Have
you told Groome yet?’ asked Lady Collingford.
    Lord
Collingford nodded.
    ‘Was he
upset?’
    ‘Yes,
as a matter of fact, I think he was.’
    ‘What
did he say?’
    Lord
Collingford turned and looked at her. ‘Just that, if he’d known, he wouldn’t
have ordered the manure. For your roses, you know...’
    ‘Yes,
of course,’ said Lady Collingford, her eyes beginning to fill with tears, ‘for
my roses.’
    There
was a pause. Lord Collingford handed her a handkerchief. ‘Have you told Mrs
Gowdie?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’
said Lady Collingford. ‘Have you told Cedric?’
    Lord
Collingford swallowed. ‘Not yet,’ he said.
    ‘Aren’t
we being a couple of cowards!’ said Lady Collingford blowing her nose.
    Groome
was helping Cedric to carry his school trunk downstairs. They dumped it in the
main hall and both sat on it for a moment to get their breath back.
    ‘Now
you won’t have a last-minute rush tomorrow,’ said Groome.
    ‘Thanks,’
said Cedric glumly.
    ‘Cheer
up,’ said Groome, ‘you can’t expect the holidays to last forever.’
    'I’d
better get my cello,’ said Cedric.
    ‘Wait a
minute,’ said Groome. ‘I’ve got something for you.’
    He took
an old brass telescope from his jacket. It gleamed like gold and was as smooth
as glass from years of careful polishing. ‘Belonged to my uncle,’ said Groome.
‘When he was in the Merchant Navy.’
    Cedric
had never been given anything by Groome before and for a moment he was too
overwhelmed to speak.
    ‘It’s
only an old telescope,’ said Groome, rather gruffly. ‘No good to me.’
    ‘I
think it’s beautiful,’ said Cedric, finding his voice at last. ‘I love it.
Thank you very much indeed, Mr Groome.
    ‘Well....
It’ll be a sort of... souvenir . . said Groome.
    Cedric
looked up. ‘A souvenir? You don’t mean you’re leaving do you?’
    ‘I
couldn’t stay on here, after you’d all gone,’ said Groome.
    Cedric
stared at him for a moment, realizing what he meant, and then ran towards the
sitting-room.
    He
burst in and confronted his parents. ‘Is it true?’ he demanded. ‘Are we
leaving?’
    Lord
and Lady Collingford looked at one another.
    ‘I’m
afraid