Through the banister spindles, Amanda saw him. Mordren, Lord Dowrkampyer, a stocky man in brocade robes, with an impressive grey beard, stepped forth, wand in hand. His eyes were so bright with malice that she could see him even from this distance. He was distracted by flames breaking through the corner of the ceiling and then ....
It happened too fast. Suddenly, a woman in long black garb entered through the side door opposite, with drawn wand, and looked up the stairs, past Lucy, at Mordren. It could only have been Agacine Flamgoyne. She emanated rage and triumph at finding the jewel in the Dowrkampyer crown so close and unawares. Amanda saw her lips move in a spell. She could feel the energy gathering. Agacine’s wrist cocked back, ready to cast.
At that moment there was a movement to Amanda’s left. A young man with floppy flaxen hair forestalled the Flamgoyne witch with a flick of his wand. There was a hiss and sizzle as the spell hit her and Agacine fell.
There was Dowrkampyer’s voice:
‘Stop! School’s out!’
His arm was raised. Amanda saw Lucy look round and see the wand in the hand of the fallen Agacine Flamgoyne, seize it and aim. There was a white-hot explosion near the top of the stairs, as the atoms of Mordren Dowrkampyer were blasted into the fabric of his mansion.
Flaxen-haired’s triumph was short-lived, as a spell whisked through the air from the front entrance, flooring the young man, inches from Amanda’s feet. Lucy and the children fled out of the front door, and the young man attempted to rise. It must have been just a stun because the brown-haired caster hurried forward to finish the job with a fatal spell. But he was soon obscured, as the fight from outside now moved through the splintered door through which Amanda had entered.
The battle seemed to fill the hall. Now passing right before Amanda who shrunk back behind the coats as much as she could. She shut her eyes as it passed to her left, then back again towards the front entrance. Amanda dared to squint out between the coats. Looking towards the kitchen, it was clear they had been fighting over a door that was now smashed and barred by a body.
However, now one figure detached from the fray at the front of the hall: a woman with long brown rippling hair. She moved back past Amanda, over to the ruined door and disappeared through it. Within 30 seconds, she was back up, holding a what could only be The Grimoire. She was creeping towards the kitchen.
Amanda saw her chance. She fingered her wand. The woman had her back to Amanda. It would be so easy. The thoughts flashed through her mind, calculating. A simple stun spell, then seize the book and escape through the back of the house. Amanda had never used an attacking spell. She had learned them only to master the diffusing spells. Now, however, the words came to her mind, tempting, inviting, seductive. But a stun spell could kill if cast with the wrong degree of power. Amanda had no idea what that would be.
She knew from the hair that the witch was either her mother, Skorna or her aunt, Lughesven. The latter was dispensable, if Amanda made a mistake with the spell. But. What if it was Skorna? Amanda would never be, never have been born. On the other hand, if she got it right, The Grimoire would be hers. That fateful spell would never be cast, she would never have asthma, she would have a life free from … And so what if she did get it wrong? The Cardiubarn flame kindled within her, flickering rage. Yes, this was her chance at revenge. Wasn’t it worth it? Whatever the cost? Look what they did to her without a moment’s hesitation. And this woman was part of it. Now it was time. Time for her to pay. Yes. Yes. Now. Do it. Now. Amanda Cadabra drew forth her wand.
Just then, Perran’s words echoed in her head. She tried to push them away, but they would not be silenced. Over the war trumpet of the Cardiubarns, they sang in her ears like a charm ... A witch does not strike out. A witch does not strike out. Her hand trembled, the flame of ire died. Amanda lowered her wand as she watched the witch reach the back door.
The building was now creaking, groaning, fracturing. The distorted masonry had caused the back door to stick. The woman fired a spell and stepped through the cavity, just before the lintel and wall above it collapsed, blocking the way. Whatever chance Amanda could have taken vanished, her fate was sealed. More immediately, any hope she had had of leaving by that exit was dashed.
How do I get out? she wondered. How much time do I have before this whole place comes down?
Fire and smoke were now billowing from the kitchen as well as the stairs, which were aflame almost to the ground floor. Worse than that, a stray burn-spell had set alight a coat near the door.
The brown-haired man stood in the hall looking around for any targets. He was now facing directly towards Amanda. Had he detected her? She was sweating from the heat, swallowing repeatedly to hold in the cough that threatened to expose her.
At that moment, from she knew not where, Tempest sprang forth, covering the distance to the stairs in an instant, soaring up and landing on the newel post ahead of the man. The familiar’s loud hiss got
