Witch Is When Things Fell Apart by Adele Abbott

teachers would have been ashamed of me.
    Candlefield library looked and felt just like my school library. The only difference was that the ‘no talking’ rule was much more strictly enforced in Candlefield.
    “Excuse me,” I said.
    “Shhh!” The witch, dressed in an overdose of floral print, put a finger to her lips. “How can I help?” she whispered.
    “Where can I find archived copies of the newspapers?” I whispered back.
    She beckoned me to follow her down a flight of stairs. The basement had no carpets, but no shortage of dust. I sneezed.
    “Shhh!”
    “Where are the readers?”
    She looked puzzled.
    “Microfiche readers?”
    She shook her head. “We don’t have those. All the original copies are stored down here.”
    “All of them?”
    “This basement stretches for several miles under the town. There’s a copy of every newspaper going back over a century.”
    “Are they in any kind of order?”
    “Of course. No one would be able to find anything otherwise. They’re stored by year with the most recent nearest to the stairs. Then they’re divided into the different publications.”
    “How many different newspapers are there?”
    “Each of the different sups has its own paper. For example, The Wonder is published by and for Wizards and Witches. Then there’s The Candle which is a general publication. As you might imagine, it has the largest circulation. Is there anything else you need?”
    Apart from a thousand pairs of eyes? “No, thank you.”
    “Please make sure you return everything to where you found it.”
    “I will.”
     
    I decided to discard those publications aimed at specific sup groups—the real news seemed to be concentrated in The Candle. I figured if I started with newspapers from ten years ago, and worked my way towards the present day, that I could make a note of all the incidents involving The Dark One.
     
    Three hours later, I emerged from the basement—my nostrils coated in dust, and my hands in newsprint.
    “Did you find what you were looking for?” Floral print whispered.
    I shook my head and tried not to sneeze. “I couldn’t find a single article on The Dark One.”
    “You should have said that’s what you were looking for. I could have saved you a lot of time.”
    “Why aren’t there any stories about him?”
    She shrugged. “You should ask the newspapers that question.”
     
    I intended to, but first I had an appointment with a cup of coffee and a muffin at Cuppy C.
    “Blueberry!” I could barely control my joy. “You have blueberry.”
    “It was the least we could do.” Pearl handed me the tray. “After what you did for us.” She touched a finger to her ear. “Grab the window seat; I’ll come and join you in a minute.”
    Amber beat her to it.
    “Nice?” Amber said.
    I nodded—my mouth was too full to speak.
    “Thanks for what you did with Grandma.”
    I shrugged.
    Pearl joined us. “How did you get Grandma to reverse the spell?”
    “I relied on reason and her sense of fair play.”
    They both laughed. “No, seriously. How did you manage it?”
    “I told her that I wouldn’t take part in her stupid Levels Competition.”
    Their mouths fell open.
    “What?” I shrugged.
    “Nothing,” Pearl said. “I just can’t believe you’re still in one piece.”
    “I’m surprised she didn’t turn you into a frog—or a donkey,” Amber said. “She must want to win really badly.”
    “That’s what worries me. What chance do I have of winning? I’ve only just moved up from level one. Surely even Grandma will have to make allowances?”
    They both shook their heads.
    “Thanks. That makes me feel much better.”
    “You’ll win.” Amber put her hand on mine. “You’re the best level two witch I’ve ever seen.”
    “Yeah, you’ll win.” Pearl added her hand.
    I wished I shared their confidence. It’s not like there wouldn’t be enough pressure going into the competition anyway, but now I had the threat of being transformed into a