Abby and the Hopplescotch Realm

1

Abby and the

Hopplescotch Realm

By

Julie Folkers

First published in New Zealand in 2003 and reprinted in 2007 by National Pacific Press

PO Box 57-202

Mana 5247

Porirua, New Zealand

Ph 64 4 233 8204

E-mail books@npp.co.nz

Published by Ooky Spooky Publications 2011

Copyright Julie Folkers, 2003, 2007 and 2011

Cover Copyright 2011 by Julie Folkers

All rights reserved.

The Author has asserted her moral and legal right to be recognised as the Author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the Author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organisations or persons is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the Author. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any from or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the Author.

Dedication

For my girls who mean the world to me and to good friends who are always there through thick and thin.

Contents

Chapter 1 - The Letter

Chapter 2 - Higgle Biggle Botch

Chapter 3 - All Is Not As It Seems

Chapter 4 - The Mystery Object

Chapter 5 - The Switchelstick

Chapter 6 - To Lay A Trap

Chapter 7 - The Circle of Empowerment

Chapter 8 - The Scroll of Maskabee

Chapter 9 - The Transformation

Chapter 10 – Marbalo

Chapter 11 - The Ghoul Of Shadows

Chapter 12 - The Hogglenoggle Bottle

Chapter 13 - A Grogall At Your Service

Chapter 14 - Who Has Abby?

Chapter 15 – Cackleberries

Chapter 16 - Who Would Have Thought?

Chapter 1

The Letter

M Antwater, No 2 Beechhorn Cove. That’s what the letterbox read. To any outsider the rambling old villa looked like any other house in the cove. No one would have guessed it was the gateway to Hopplescotch Realm.

Behind the villa façade, there lived a witch named Muriel. Not just any witch. She was a Hopplescotch Witcherene, which means she sat on the Council, being one of the most powerful witches in all of the six Realms. (There are in fact seven Realms but the seventh Realm is pure evil, and is not usually included when referring to the Realms.)

Muriel’s tiny living room was crammed full with magical objects. She rushed around tidying up; her mind was busy planning her day at the same time. Gardening was on the agenda (that is, if any weed dared to appear within the flower-filled garden). She was meticulous with whatever she did. ‘Fusspot’ is what the children in the cove called her.

Muriel finished jamming books on top of the already crammed bookcase. She stepped back, checking that it wouldn’t topple over with the extra books. Assured it was safe, she walked to the mirror and started brushing her long black hair. She glanced nervously at the bookcase’s reflection periodically, just to make sure that it would not topple onto her.

’98, 99, 100 done,’ Muriel said aloud. She quickly admired her tanned reflection for a moment; her brown eyes took in every detail. Time had treated her well. Her complexion still glowed. She was two hundred, but didn’t look a day over thirty.

She twisted her hair into its customary bun. As the sun’s rays always hurt her eyes she popped her sunglasses on. Glancing in the mirror, she checked that her top at the back was tucked into her jeans. Satisfied, she headed for the back door.

Down to the bottom of the garden she marched, heading for the garden shed. Inside she spied her tools hanging in their correct places, where she had last left them. Revelling in the tidiness of the shed, she grabbed her gloves from the bench, selected the tools she needed and headed back up the path.

Today she would tackle the garden by the front gate, so she could watch for the postman. She heard the familiar squeak of his bike as she finished. Perfect timing.

She stayed out of sight until convinced he had gone.

Thankful, for the cover of the shrubs. He would have kept

her talking for hours if he had known she was there. He wasn’t planned into her schedule. Confident he had gone, she approached the letterbox. There she discovered three letters. The first two were bills, but the third one looked quite unusual. It was written in beautiful deep blue ink. The writing looked vaguely familiar. A shiver ran down her spine as she stood staring at it. Stuffing the letters into her back pocket, she tried to shrug the feeling off. Quickly gathering up the garden tools, she returned them to their rightful homes in the shed. She scurried up the garden path, just stopping long enough to slip her shoes off before entering the kitchen.

The unusual letter caused her concentration to slip for a moment. She could not find her reading glasses. Panic welled up inside her.

‘There you are,’ she said relieved, finding them behind the fruit bowl.

‘Next time I go to Hopplescotch Realm I must get the spell for the do-it-yourself laser treatment to fix my eyes. I’ve had enough of juggling glasses!’

Reading glasses on, she placed the envelope on the table. Gingerly she slid her finger under the gold seal on the back

of the mysterious letter. She stood back apprehensively and held her breath.

The envelope wiggled. Smoke began pouring out. Pinching her nose in case it smelt, she waited for the smoke to clear.

Oh no, a delivery imp! All ten centimetres of him. As she stared down at him a smile crossed her lips. He looked so cute in his shiny lime green outfit, complete with shoes that curled up at the ends. She watched him intently as he began pacing up and down the envelope. She heard his tiny footsteps as they crunched the paper.

When he was sure he had her full attention he pulled a scroll from his pocket. Glancing up at her from under his hat, he dramatically drew a deep breath. ‘I am your delivery imp. I have a very important communication for Muriel Antwater, Witcherene Supreme of Hopplescotch Realm and guardian of the gateway to Hopplescotch Realm. I presume you are she?’

‘Yes I am.’

‘Of course you are. You’re well-known within the Realms, you know.’

Poof.

Another imp appeared. No smoke for this imp’s arrival. He was taller, and dressed exactly the same way except for a big badge on his shirt. Supervisor Supreme, it stated.

Muriel groaned. She now had two imps to deal with.

‘Get on with your job,’ the supervisor shrilled. ‘This is your second warning this week. Rule number 52 states:

Under no circumstances are you to divert from the delivery at hand. This means no idle chatter. Am I understood?’ He waved his finger in the smaller imp’s face.

‘But sir, look for yourself, it’s her!’ he said excitedly, pointing up at Muriel.

The supervisor spun around to face Muriel, then turned back to the imp.

‘You really are showing your newness at this job. You’ll grow used to dealing with celebrities.’

Leaning towards his supervisor he cupped his hand and whispered in his ear. ‘She’s no ordinary celebrity; she saved the Realms from Agnes. Do you think the rumours are true about how she isn’t herself since it happened?’

‘What are you on about?’ whispered the supervisor, puzzled.

‘They say she’s so fussy with what she does. She used to be carefree and a wild spirit. The best of the witches, her magic and the way she used it, out-conjure anyone, including Agnes. The Realms owe her a debt of gratitude.’

The supervisor could not help himself; the imp had his full attention. ‘Go on.’

‘They say, she had this huge battle with Agnes. You know who Agnes is, don’t you?’

‘Of course! Do you think I’m, silly or something? She’s the most evil and power-hungry witch of all time,’ hissed the supervisor.

‘Did you know the two of them used to be the best of friends, grew up together.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘No, I have it on good authority. The two of them were extremely competitive with each other, always trying to outdo the other. For some reason, I have no idea why, Agnes changed and became the evil witch she is today. They’re bitter enemies. I’ll tell you what I think happened, but these are only my views, you understand.’

He leaned even closer to the supervisor and continued to whisper in his ear, glancing at Muriel as he did so. She had lost interest and was reading her other mail.

‘I think she felt betrayed by her former best friend, and that battle took its toll on her. Yes she won, and saved the Realms, but it must have been hard to use witchery against her. It would have torn her heart in two.’

‘Yes, you have a point.’ The supervisor thoughtfully nodded his head.

‘They say she’s changed. She doesn’t use her magic.’

‘That’s enough from you two,’ interrupted Muriel suddenly, as she threw the bills on the table next to them.

They both caught their balance just before they fell over.

‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re talking about. You, little man, get on with your job, and you – scoot!’ The supervisor gasped and vanished in a second.

Muriel smiled to herself as the delivery imp blushed to think she had heard all that he had said.

He cleared his throat, obviously as a delaying tactic whilst he tried to remember where he had left off.

‘This communication is from Alfred of Cobbersham, Warlock Supreme of Hopplescotch Realm and guardian of the key to the gateway of Hopplescotch Realm.’

The imp paused, more for effect than anything. He glanced at Muriel for a second, then continued his pacing and reading. ‘This communication has been cleared by the Mayor of Hopplescotch Realm and does not interfere with the Hopplescotch Act No. 2111 which states that guardians of keys and gates should not under any circumstances communicate with each other. It could give enemies an advantage to gain access to the Realms. Agnes Fairwether is our only known enemy at present and thanks to your brilliant defence ten years ago, she is securely banished to the Seventh Realm.’

He drew in a deep breath.

‘Yes, yes I know all this,’ Muriel wished he would get on with it so she could read her letter.

‘None-the–less it is my job to read this, so please no interruptions.’ He wagged his tiny finger at her.

She scowled back.

He studied his scroll again, trying to find where he had got up to.

‘Right, you understand all this?’ he asked.

Slowly she nodded at him with a smile back on her lips.

‘My job is done.’ He leapt in the air and vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.

Sighing with relief, she reached over and pulled the contents out of the envelope.

Dear Muriel,

I know we have sworn never to have contact but everything has changed. It looks like the gossip about Agnes may not be just rumours. I must send you Abby to protect. Time is of the essence, I urge you to reassess your situation and take control of your powers again. Abby will be arriving midnight tonight. I will send for her when it is safe.

Your Brother in Arms,

Alfred Cobber

Warlock of Cobbersham.

Shaken, Muriel walked slowly to the sink, turned the tap on and splashed her face. She stood silently, recalling the battle that had taken place ten years before, hoping that history would not repeat itself. Leaning on the bench for a few minutes, she gazed out the window into the garden, trying to comprehend the full extent of the news she had received.

A bang at the door jolted her back to reality. Wondering who on earth it could be, she hurried to the back door.

She stopped and thought for a second. She liked being a witch at times like this. No better time to start using her powers again. Raising her right hand, she extended her index finger and began twirling it, her long nail almost touching the wood.

Slowly a spy hole appeared, growing in size until she caught sight of the Captain, her neighbour. Smiling, she opened the door, thinking about seeing him on her doorstep shuffling his feet as normal. She knew she made him nervous. As far as the Captain was concerned she was an unknown quantity.

The Captain, not being magical and a newish member of the community of Beechhorn Cove, had never been invited inside.

‘Oh hullo, Captain Wynard.’ She swung the door open,

trying to keep her voice even.

‘Good day, Muriel. My! You’re looking a little pale. Are you alright?’ asked the Captain. He tried to peek past her, his curiosity getting the better of him.

‘Yes, just got some bad news. Nothing to worry about.’ She hoped she sounded confident and closed the door a little.

‘Now what can I do for you, Captain?’

‘Oh well, this may sound a wee bit odd, but I was doing some