A Spell of Weather

10. Urgent Plans

I clenched my fists.

"Tell me how to fix this," I said through gritted teeth to Cordelia. I would not let Cornelia win, no matter what. I looked at Cordelia with knives in my eyes. Her sister had caused this. Witchery had caused this. You couldn't trust magicks, not for a hot second.

"It mayn't be so bad," Cordelia said. A concentrated look was in her gaze, like someone doing intense problem-solving and she tapped a rapid forefinger on her lips. "These eggs have been asleep for centuries—they'll be slow to awaken. One or two days is serious, but it doesn't have to be the end of everything. I just need to think."

She turned away for a moment, then back again.

"There are two magic things to do. One, stop the rain falling on the eggs. Second, remove the enchantment from the water that's around them already and whatever's seeped inside. Do those at the same time and we have a good chance."

"We could ask the mayor to turn off the storm drain," I said. "And what about drying the eggs off somehow?" I had no idea how to do the second because there were three dozen eggs or more down there, most of them waist-high with their bottoms lodged in the wet earth all day.

"Drying doesn't matter," Ferra explained. "The magic will still be left behind."

"She's right," Cordelia agreed. "But we'll get the mayor to stop that storm drain."

"We'll need a sort of tent spell to hold the rain off the eggs," Ferra said thoughtfully. A shadow crossed her face. "Should we call my uncle to help?"

"Yes," Cordelia said. "This is dreadfully important and we need all the magicks we can get. Let's go back to town. I'll tell the Mayor about the storm-drain and ring your uncle from the Town Hall."

We dashed back to the car and drove through rising water, getting swatted with waves across the windscreen by trucks going the other way. I decided to mill around the empty guard-booth while Cordelia and Ferra went in at Town Hall. I waited, impatiently watching the crystalline ropes of rain falling from eaves and wishing the magicks would hurry up.

I caught of someone entering the cookware store across the street. Just then Cordelia and Ferra returned.

"Did it," Cordelia said. "He'll listen or else. Unfortunately Bramble's not picking up."

I pointed. "That's because he's in that store."

#

We surprised Bramble as he perused some enormous cast iron hearth pots big enough to make soup for a dozen famished farmhands.

"Of course, of course," he said, once Cordelia had told him everything. "This is all quite serious. Let's go at once."

He'd driven to town in his own car, which he kept in a Scargill garage.

"The kids will stick with me," Cordelia said, as we hurried back out. "We're all three of us sopping wet already."

Bramble made no objection and followed us to the embankment. He was the only one with an umbrella and as we walked to the ravine, attempted to share it with Ferra, who stayed mostly outside, rain spattering her shoulders and back.

"I have some ability in coursing away wind and water," he told Cordelia. "I'll work on the tent business. You'll have to crack that enchantment."

Cordelia nodded. "He'll need the Otterwhistle, Ferra."

Ferra wordlessly removed the wand and handed it to her uncle. He walked away with the umbrella.