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ponders Waldo, “She must want something. Did she say?”

  “No!” chorus the children.

  “Oh well - it’s probably well within my powers, even now, and if you can find my soul, I can grant her wish and be gone for good. How my bones ache!”

  Gemma is not surprised, since he sits all day in this damp cave.

  “We are to give you clues that might jog your memory,” says Swot.

  “Go ahead then,” says Waldo.

  “Did you put it in a tree?” asks Swot.

  “No.”

  “Did you put it under a flower?” asks Gemma.

  “No.”

  “Did you take it to the sea and leave it on the beach?” asks Swot.

  “No.”

  “Did you bury it under a rock?” asks Gemma.

  “No. You are not even warm. Let me think. I believe I hid it in something that was alive.”

  “Ah. Did it have hooves?” asks Swot.

  “No.”

  “Did it have long ears?” asks Gemma.

  “No.”

  “Did it have a tail?” asks Swot.

  “Aha! Yes, yes. A magnificent tail. But what did the rest of it look like?” ponders Waldo.

  “Did it have a beak?” asks Swot.

  “Yes. It was a bird,” cries Waldo triumphantly.

  “I know. A peacock!” says Swot.

  “Yes, yes. It was a peacock.”

  “Was it in a field?” asks Swot.

  “No.”

  “Was it by a lake?” asks Gemma.

  “No.”

  “Was it in a cage?” asks Swot.

  “Yes, yes. A black cage with twisted bars,” says Waldo.

  “In a house?” asks Gemma.

  “No.

  “In a garden?” asks Swot.

  “No.”

  “On a mountain?” asks Gemma.

  “Yes, yes. On a mountain.”

  “Near here?” asks Swot.

  “Yes. I think five by ten plus two hundred minus twenty paces to the west,” says Waldo.

  Swot soon works that out. Two hundred and thirty paces. “Right, let’s go!” he says.

  “Goodbye. Good luck. Don’t worry if you can’t find my soul. I don’t want you coming to harm on the mountain. But I suspect Zophenas will help you on your way,” says Waldo.

  Swot and Gemma pick their way carefully out of the cave. The spiders have crept out of sight but watch them with huge eyes, wondering what two children who seem quite sensible, are doing here.

  At the entrance, Swot draws a compass from his pocket. He carries it everywhere because he often vanishes on long walks through the woods. He discovers the west and begins to count the paces.

  The mountain tumbling with silver streams in the moonlight, appears suddenly. Black trees with strange upturned branches hung with round red fruit grow beside the streams. Their lower branches dip down and brush the water.

  Swot and Gemma feel hungry and pluck some fruit. It tastes of redcurrant jelly.

  “Mmm,” says Gemma, “This is good.”

  Swot would rather have had bacon and eggs but he does not think it likely they will find any, so he munches two of the red fruit. Then they begin to climb the mountain.

  Small birds, with blue, pink and lilac feathers flutter over the silver water, flowing fast from high above.

  “It’s beautiful. I’d like to live here,” says Gemma.

  “I think the mountain is bewitched and might change into something else if we don’t watch it closely,” comments Swot.

  The path grows narrow and passes between rocks so close together only children can pass. “That’s why Zophenas wanted us to come,” says Swot.

  But even Gemma gets squashed between two rocks and cannot move. Swot takes her arms and pulls and pulls, until she pops out, rubbing her bruises.

  The slopes slide darkly beneath their feet. The black trees stir in the light breeze and the moonlight dances on the water and fluttering birds.

  “Do you know where the peacock lives?” Swot asks a bird that perches in curiosity at their feet. The bird looks puzzled, not knowing what a peacock looks like. But he says, “Come with me!” and hops ahead. On a clump of blue flowers by the water, a speckled green bird spreads ragged wings and sings a sad song through its curved grey beak which is more suitable for catching fish.

  “Is this him?” asks the coloured bird.

  “No. Whatever that is, it is not a peacock,” says Swot.

  “Sorry!” the coloured bird flies off, diving and rising dizzily on the breeze.

  Swot sees the cage first. It stands on a white rock by the water and two of the coloured birds that are perching on it, swoop off with a silvery cry.

  “Is the peacock inside?” whispers Gemma.

  “It looks empty from here but perhaps he is asleep.”

  Sure enough, as the children creep closer they see the dark shape of the sleeping peacock. Swot coughs. The peacock’s eyes remain closed. Gemma coughs and sneezes - she has a lot of dust from the cave up her nose.

  The peacock opens a cold eye and looks at her. Alarmed he rises and in an instant spreads his tail shot with pink, blue, gold, purple and green, so the children are blinded and have to hide their eyes.

  “Who are you?” asks the peacock, annoyed at being woken. “I had hoped to make it a hundred years’ sleep this time. But there is always some interruption,” he grumbles and begins to strut pettishly about his cage.

  “Excuse us but we have been sent to find Waldo the warlock’s soul,” explains Swot.

  The Peacock

  Back to the Start!

  “Oh, at last, thank heavens. I thought I would never be rid of it, throbbing away all these years. You can have it with pleasure.”

  “Where is it?” asks Gemma.

  “In my head of course.”

  “How do we get it out?” asks Swot.

  “That can only be done by reciting the right verse and I don’t know what it is,” says the peacock with a sigh.

  Zophenas watches the children from afar and now she puts the right words into Swot’s mouth:

  “Soul of Waldo sleeping sound

  Wake up! Wake up! Look around

  And leave with us now that you’re found.”

  The peacock shivers and there is a whirring sound from his head. He shakes it and sighs with relief.

  “Where is Waldo’s soul?” asks Swot.

  “In your hands. It is, of course, invisible.”

  Swot looks at him doubtfully, then feels a gentle pulsing as he holds his hands palms upwards. “This must be it,” he says to Gemma.

  “Thank you,” she says to the peacock who is drifting back to sleep. “Goodbye.”

  But he does not even hear them depart down the slippery mountain and back through the narrow rocks. Gemma feels the rocks closing in and within seconds, is stuck again. Suddenly the speckled bird swoops and squawks;

  “Give me that soul - I don’t have one and I want one!”

  Swot spins round and throws the invisible soul to Gemma whose arms are stuck but luckily her hands rest palms upwards. She feels the soul flutter as it lands in her hands, but now, how can Swot pull her out from between the rocks?

  He swipes at the noisy speckled bird that tries to peck him with its sharp grey beak. Loose feathers flutter from him until he is bare and shivering in the cold. He flies away - dipping and jerking towards a distant peak.

  Swot carefully approaches Gemma, holding out his hands. “Give me Waldo’s soul!” he says. Gemma tips her hands and the soul slides wearily back into Swot’s hands. He backs away and very carefully, ensuring the bird has gone, lays the soul in the grass.

  “Now - hang on to me and I’ll get you out,” he tells Gemma, grasping her cold hands and pulling hard.

  At first she does not budge. “Ouch! I’m really stuck this time!” she moans.

  Zophenas has been sleeping. She wakes after a bad dream about somebody stuck somewhere. She sees Gemma in her mind’s eye and mu
sters her magic, to chant;

  “Spirit of the trees and streams

  Let her go before she screams!”

  Gemma feels herself shrinking until, once more, she pops from the rock like a cork from a bottle. Swot dives to retrieve the soul, feeling it quiver silently in his shaking hands.

  Slowly, the children pick their way back through the Fusty Fields of Nowhere. They find the cave and step carefully through the dark until they see Waldo dozing among the busily spinning spiders. He wakes with a start and grins.

  “You found it?”

  “Yes!” says Swot, wondering how one replaces an invisible soul in one’s body. Waldo takes the quivering soul and chants:

  “Soul I have kept in the peacock’s head

  Re-enter me now so I may.......”

  The children hear a faint swish and flurry and Waldo’s head drops quietly forward. “I think he’s dead!” says Gemma.

  They wait a few minutes in case he stirs, but only the spiders rustle and spin, watching the children with beady eyes. They quickly retreat from the cave and hurry from the mountain. When they turn to bid it farewell, it quivers, quakes and silently falls apart, scattering coloured feathers and spraying the children with cold water.

  “There, what did I tell you?” says Swot.

  “Let’s get back to Zophenas before anything else changes,” urges Gemma.

  They hear Zophenas muttering in the mist.

  “Where are those children? Where are those children?”

  “We’re here!” shouts Swot and starts running. Gemma follows. They see Zophenas waving her long arms in agitation.

  “Did you find it?” she cries.

  “Yes and Waldo died,” confirms Swot.

  “Oh. I didn’t want him to just yet. I thought he might help me. Never mind. It must be one of the other two tasks. I shall just go and check up he’s gone....”

  “What is she on about?” asks Swot. Gemma shrugs.

  “Wait here. I will tell you about Task Number Two when I get back,” says Zophenas and is instantly swallowed by the mist. The children shiver