Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

him.
    ‘Water!
Water!’ said Catweazle, thumping an empty oil-drum. ‘The magic power of water
that carries me through Time.’
    ‘Stop
that stupid talk,’ said Cedric. ‘You’ve scared Groome half silly.’
    ‘How
shall I get back?’
    ‘On
your tricycle of course,’ said Cedric, thinking Catweazle meant Duck Halt.
    ‘Thou
maggot!’ snapped Catweazle, ‘Listen to me — ’ ‘Not now. If you’re found, you’re
for the high jump.’ ‘The high jump?’ said Catweazle, looking up into the air
and thinking of the flying spell.
    ‘Oh for
heaven’s sake, get lost! exploded Cedric and rushed out of the greenhouse.
    Catweazle
shook his head bitterly. ‘Get lost?’ he muttered. ‘Nay, Owlface, I am already
lost. Trapped in thy world ..
    He
fetched his tricycle from its hiding place and started back to Duck Halt.
Groome caught a glimpse of him as he pedalled off between the trees. With a
shout he jumped to his feet and clambered through the window.
    Doctor
Wenik looked up from his notebook in surprise, and then, determined not to lose
his patient, jammed on his hat and climbed out after him.
    By this
time Catweazle was half-way down the drive. Groome ran to his bicycle and shot
off in pursuit. The doctor grabbed Mrs Gowdie’s bike and wobbled off after
Groome.
    As
Catweazle turned out on to the road by the gatehouse, he was horrified to see
the local cycle club, the Elderford Eagles, coming towards him. There were at
least thirty of them and they all began ringing their bells when they saw him
in the middle of the road. Catweazle leapt into the ditch and pulled the
tricycle after him. Then Groome came whizzing through the gates and nearly
collided with the leading cyclist. He had to turn round and try to outstrip the
main group but instead was swept away down the road entirely surrounded by
Elderford Eagles.
    Catweazle
climbed back on his tricycle and was disappearing slowly in the opposite
direction when Doctor Wenik appeared on Mrs Gowdie’s bicycle.
    Wenick
stared at Catweazle. It was his patient’s hallucination! ‘Ju st a moment!’ he yelled. Catweazle didn’t like the look of the stranger at all.
Wenik’s dark suit and homburg hat convinced him he had a sorcerer on his tail
and he increased speed. Wenik, however, was not to be thrown off so easily. He
was beginning to master Mrs Gowdie’s bicycle and, although his pinstripe
trousers kept getting caught in the chain and the handlebars were decidedly
loose, he slowly began to overhaul the ragged magician.
    When
Catweazle turned off the road Wenik followed him into the woods. On and on they
sped, the doctor drawing closer all the time.
    At top
speed Catweazle whizzed along the platform at
    Duck
Halt, sending the dead leaves scurrying into the air. He ran inside and
crouched down behind the weighing machine. A moment later Wenik, very out of
breath from the unaccustomed exercise, knocked cautiously on the door.
    ‘Hello.’
he panted nervously, ‘anyone at home?’
    There
was no reply.
    ‘No
need to hide, you know,’ he continued, coming inside and looking warily around
him. ‘I won’t hurt you. Don’t be frightened.’
    Touchwood
crawled out of his boot, croaked, and glared grumpily at Wenik. The doctor was
so fascinated by him that he didn’t notice Catweazle creeping up.
    ‘Schempamporasch!’
cried Catweazle, hoping the Word of Power would drive the sorcerer away.
    Wenik
spun round.
    ‘Begone!’
Catweazle commanded.
    ‘But my
dear fellow — ’ remonstrated the doctor.
    ‘Thou
prying brock! Wouldst steal Touchwood?’
    ‘Touchwood?’
    ‘My
minion.’
    ‘Never.
I am your friend.’
    ‘Nay,’
Catweazle shook his head. ‘I know thee not.’
    ‘Wenik.
Benjamin Wenik,’ said the doctor and held out his hand.
    Catweazle
took it and turned it up to read the palm. A quick glance was enough to
convince him the sorcerer meant no harm.
    ‘Can I
sit down?’ asked Wenik.
    ‘Thou
know’st better than I,’ said Catweazle rudely.
    Wenik
sat down on the car seat while Catweazle threw some more wood on the Sacred
Fire.
    ‘Er...
nice place you have here,’ said Wenik, ingratiatingly, looking at the piles of
rubbish around him.
    Catweazle
handed him a banana.
    ‘You
are very kind,’ said Wenik politely. ‘Thank you very much.’
    Catweazle
also peeled a banana and they ate in silence.
    ‘Tell
me,’ said Wenik, finishing his banana and carefully wiping his rather podgy
white fingers on his handkerchief, ‘why do you live