Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

tadpole,’ said Catweazle shaking his head sadly.
    He went
inside and shut the door. ‘And I have the heartache,’ he muttered. Then he sat
down and looked round the room, staring miserably at a future with no magic in
it.
    At
Kings Farthing they were making some attempt to sort out the pile of treasure
on the sitting-room table, but Lord Collingford was too excited to be at all
systematic. ‘It’s fantastic!’ he said. ‘There’s an absolute fortune here!’
    ‘But
how did you know it was in the spire?’ asked Lady Collingford.
    ‘Lord
Alfred’s rhyme, I suppose.’
    ‘What
rhyme?’
    ‘On the
wall of the secret chamber.’
    ‘What
secret chamber?’
    ‘I’ll
show you. The entrance is in my bedroom. It leads down to the old dungeons. I’d
never have read the rhyme if it hadn’t been for — ’ Cedric broke off. He had
suddenly remembered Catweazle.
    ‘Hadn’t
been for what, Cedric?’ said Lady Collingford.
    ‘Excuse
me, I’ll be back,’ said Cedric and rushed away while his parents looked at one
another with astonishment.
    At Duck
Halt Catweazle had been disturbed from his gloomy thoughts by Touchwood
croaking loudly outside the door. ‘I bade thee leave me!’ called Catweazle
angrily, but Touchwood went on and on croaking. He was obviously very excited
about something. Finally Catweazle couldn’t bear the noise any longer and went
angrily to the door. Touchwood was practically bursting himself with noise. ‘
’Tis no croaking matter,’ snapped Catweazle and picked him up, then his eyes
opened wide with astonishment.
    A great
red globe was hanging in the sky, floating slowly and silently down until only
the top of it could be seen over the golden trees. Catweazle gasped. Clearly
this was very strong magic. He put Touchwood in his pocket and ran through the
trees towards the giant ball.
    It was
in the middle of a field swaying very gently in the still autumn air and it was
tethered to a basket which seemed to anchor it to the earth.
    ‘ ’Tis
wondrous round,’ murmured Catweazle, stalking towards the enormous ball. ‘Round...
like a...’
    He
stopped and suddenly understanding tingled through him. ‘Round... like a
circle,’ he said to himself. The great ball turned slightly in the air. A large
white ring had been painted on it and in the middle was the figure thirteen.
    ‘Touchwood!’
cried Catweazle, pulling the toad from his pocket. ‘Thou hast led me to the
thirteenth Sign of the Zodiac. Tis the circle! No end. No beginning. Nothing.
And everything!’
    He
stumbled towards the Sign. His magic was vindicated. His quest had not been in
vain. He danced wildly round the great ball and climbed into the basket.
    Cedric
came running across the field towards him. ‘Come out!’ he called.
    ‘ ’Tis
the thirteenth Sign!’
    ‘Don’t
be silly. It’s a balloon!’
    Cedric
reached the basket and tried to pull Catweazle out but the magician refused to
budge and there was a struggle. Catweazle grabbed a lever above his head and
with a sudden roar, flames shot from the hot air burner and the balloon rose
into the air.
    ‘What
hast thou done?’ cried Catweazle, looking down at Cedric in terror.
    ‘Don’t
touch anything!’ called Cedric. He ran after the balloon as it began to drift
across the field.
    Catweazle’s
terror changed to excitement as he realized what was happening to him. He was
leaving the earth! The magic globe was bearing him ever upwards!
    ‘ ’Tis
the thirteenth Sign, Owlface!’ he shouted down to Cedric, running beneath him.
‘See. I fly! I fly!’
    ‘Come
back!’ called Cedric.
    ‘Farewell!’
cried Catweazle. ‘Remember thy magic!’
    The boy
stopped running as the balloon rose higher, and then, as it turned and seemed
to head towards Kings Farthing, Cedric tore after it through the woods.
    At the
house, the balloonist, who had literally ‘dropped in’ to see the Collingfords,
was on the phone arranging for his trailer to collect the balloon when he
suddenly looked out of the window and saw it gliding steadily towards the house
at about fifty feet.
    Fearing
Cedric was inside it, Lord and Lady Collingford quickly ran outside. They were
joined by Groome and Mrs Gowdie and they all looked up in astonishment at the
ragged figure in the basket.

    ‘I fly,
I fly!’ Catweazle cackled at them in triumph.
    ‘He
must be mad!’ said Lord Collingford.
    Cedric
ran up. ‘No he’s not,’ he panted as the balloon floated over Kings Farthing.
    ‘What
do you