Weava the Wilful Witch by Tiffany Mandrake Page B

she said. ‘You can stay. I’ll arrange everything.’
    â€˜Arrange what?’ asked Weava, puzzled.
    â€˜Everything,’ said Merry. ‘But now it’s bedtime.’
    She led the way into a tiny spare bedroom and closed the curtains, shutting out the night.
    Then she gave Weava a hug, and said, ‘Goodnight, Weava. It’s lovely to see you again, in spite of everything.’ She went out, closing the door behind her.
    Weava took off her cloak and hat, and put them in a pile with her shoes. Then she climbed into bed in her purple petticoat, and slipped her wand under her pillow. She had an odd, empty feeling in her tummy and it wasn’t just because she hadn’t had any supper.

3. Weava Gets an Invitation

    Weava lay in bed, worrying about Merry.
    Why was Merry trying to live like a human? What was she doing, selling that silly smelly perfume?
    Sighing, Weava rolled over. Eventually, she went to sleep.
    A little later, she woke with a start. Something was scratching on the window.
    Weava got out of bed and opened the curtains, but all she saw was her own reflection.
    She opened the window and something sprang into the room. The thing landed on her pillow and gave itself a few licks. It looked like a small black kitten, about the size of Weava’s hand. It had furry wings and silver claws to match its eyes.
    â€˜Do you know what I am, witchling?’ the thing said.
    â€˜You’re a critter-fae,’ said Weava.
    â€˜Correct. I am the kit-fae. I’m the only one of my kind,’ the creature said. ‘The hags sent me to Witchmeet to find you, but you never turned up.’ It sniffed. ‘I had to use critter-fae-sight to find you. What are you doing here?’
    â€˜I came to see my sister, Merry,’ saidWeava. ‘But she’s changed. She’s stopped doing magic.’ A tear trickled down her cheek.
    â€˜This might cheer you up!’ said the kit-fae. From somewhere in its fur it produced a piece of parchment.
    Weava stared. ‘Is that my invitation?’ She wiped her eyes on her petticoat. ‘Oooh !You mean I’m going to the Abademy?’ She danced around the room in glee.
    â€˜Not so fast,’ said the kit-fae. ‘You haven’t earned a place there, yet. Read the invitation.’
    Weava took the invitation and read the words aloud. ‘Are you a wilful witch? Do you relish being truly troublesome, dreadfully disobedient and mindbogglingly bad? Answer Yes or No. ’
    Weava beamed at the kit-fae. ‘Yes!’ she said.

    More lines appeared. ‘If you answered Yes, you may earn a Badge of Badness and attend the Hags’ Abademy for further badness training. ’ Weava danced around the room again.
    â€˜Keep reading,’ said the kit-fae.
    â€˜ To qualify for your badge, you must create and perform a new and original actof breathtaking badness. Answer I Will or I Won’t,’ Weava read. ‘I will!’ she said.
    More words appeared, and Weava read them out. ‘You have made a wise decision. The kit-fae will guide you.’
    Weava twirled around in her petticoat. ‘I have an invitation to apply for a Badge of Badness!’ she whispered. ‘I’m going to the Abademy!’
    The kit-fae twitched its fluffy black tail. ‘It sounds as though your sister will try to stop you,’ it said. ‘That will make your task much more difficult. Are you up to it?’
    â€˜I hope so,’ said Weava.
    â€˜Not good enough,’ said the kit-fae. ‘Bad fairies have to be strong and certain.’
    â€˜I can do it,’ said Weava. Then she sighed. ‘I wish Merry was on my side. She used to be so much fun.’
    â€˜Witches who turn their backs on magic can never be truly happy,’ warned the kit-fae.
    â€˜But I want Merry to be happy,’ said Weava. She lifted her chin. ‘I know! Changing Merry back to her proper self can be part of my big bad deed!