Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

apparently friendly, got slowly to his
feet, picked up his book, stepped carefully out of his little circle and began
to examine the designs adorning the walls. This was the magic he understood!
    ‘Ah
ha!’ he said, pointing at one of them. ‘ ’Tis the great seal of Solomon!’
    ‘Is
it?’ said Cedric, who was beginning to think that he was dreaming.
    ‘And
here, Belphegor,’ Catweazle continued. ‘Thou hast drawn them well.’
    ‘Where’s
the way in?’ Cedric persisted.
    ‘Truly
thou art a mighty magician,’ said Catweazle.
    ‘What?’
said Cedric.
    ‘A
mighty magician,’ repeated Catweazle.
    ‘Oh no,
not me,’ said Cedric nervously. ‘This was Lord Alfred’s hidey-hole, I think. He
was the one that thought he was a magician. My great-grandfather,’ he added.
    Catweazle
suddenly turned and stared at him intently. ‘What dost thou seek?’ he said.
    ‘Er…
nothing,’ stammered Cedric.
    ‘Ah but
thou dost. Thou dost.’
    ‘Who
are you anyway?’ said Cedric, very anxious to change the subject. But Catweazle
had already turned back to the pentacles and hexagrams on the wall. His
attention had been caught by an inscription and he began to study it closely.
    ‘I
think that’s some sort of code,’ said Cedric. ‘Lord Alfred must have done it.
I’m afraid you’d have to be a magician to read that.’
    ‘
“Twelve are they that circle round” ’ translated Catweazle.
    Cedric
was staggered. ‘You? A magician?’ he gasped.
    Catweazle
flapped a dirty hand at him impatiently and began again.
    ‘Twelve are they that circle round
    If power you seek they must be found.
    Then look for where the thirteenth lies.
    And mount aloft, the one who flies.’
    Catweazle
looked at Cedric in triumph. ‘ ’Tis the writing called Malachim,’ he said, and
opening his sodden book, he showed Cedric a page written in exactly the same
script.
    ‘Whoever
are you?’ asked Cedric.
    ‘I am
Catweazle.’
    ‘Catweazle?’
    ‘The
riddle is simple, Owlface. ’Tis a flying spell.’ Catweazle pointed at the
Zodiac circle. ‘The twelve that circle round. They must be found; each one in
turn. Then the thirteenth Sign — ’
    ‘Whatever’s
that?’
    ‘As yet
I know not. But find them all and we shall fly’
    ‘Are
you sure that’s what it means?’ said Cedric.
    Catweazle’s
thumbs began to prick. ‘Thy father comes for thee,’ he hissed at the boy.
    ‘How do
you know that?’ asked Cedric incredulously.
    ‘I see
him here,’ Catweazle muttered, tapping his forehead, ‘in the Eye of Time. Get
thee hence!’
    Cedric
ran to the door, driven by the urgency in the old magician’s voice. Then he
stopped.
    ‘What
about you?’ he said.
    ‘Go!’
ordered Catweazle.
    Cedric
pounded up the steps and reached his bedroom just in time to hear a knock at
the door. He raced over and unlocked it as quietly as he could, and found his
father outside holding the cello.
    ‘Tea’s
ready,’ said Lord Collingford.
    ‘I was
just coming,’ said Cedric breathlessly.
    ‘I’ve
brought your cello.’
    ‘Thanks,’
said Cedric putting it quickly inside the bedroom and hastily shutting the
door.
    ‘Got
everything sorted out?’
    ‘Er...
not quite,’ said Cedric, as they began to walk down the corridor towards the
staircase.
    In the
main hall Cedric nodded towards the portrait of Lord Alfred.
    ‘Do you
think there are still any magicians today?’ he asked.
    ‘I hope
not,’ replied his father.
    ‘He believed
in magic though, didn’t he?’
    ‘So
they say. He tried to fly, you know.’
    ‘To
fly?’ repeated Cedric, remembering what Catweazle had said.
    ‘Yes.
Using magic. From the top of a cliff. Beachy Head I think it was.’
    ‘What
happened?’
    Lord
Collingford looked at his son’s eager face. ‘I’m afraid gravity won,’ he said
drily.
    While
Cedric was having tea with his parents, Catweazle left Lord Alfred’s chamber
and found his way up to the bedroom again.
    He
jumped when he caught sight of himself in the mirror over the washbasin. Then
he remembered about mirrors and showed it to Touchwood. The toad stared
balefully at his reflection and puffed himself up to show that he wasn’t really
frightened.
    ‘ Tis
thou, thou gump,’ grinned Catweazle evilly, and put Touchwood down on the soap
dish. The old magician twiddled the taps and accidentally turned one on. Then
he spotted Cedric’s toothpaste and grasped it in his grimy fingers. He became
sick with apprehension when the paste oozed on to