Charmed Life - Diana Wynne Jones [5]
Gwendolen was very scornful of these spells. “Do they think I’m a baby or something? I’m miles beyond this stuff!” she would say, casting the latest spell aside.
Mrs. Sharp, who was glad of any aid to witchcraft, usually gathered the spell up carefully and hid it. But once or twice, Cat found the odd spell lying about. Then he could not resist trying it. He would have liked to have had just a little of Gwendolen’s talent. He always hoped that he was a late developer and that, someday, a spell would work for him. But they never did—not even the one for turning brass buttons to gold, which Cat particularly fancied.
The various fortune-tellers gave Gwendolen presents too. She got an old crystal ball from the Diviner and a pack of cards from the Soothsayer. The Fortune-Teller told her fortune for her. Gwendolen came in golden and exultant from that.
“I’m going to be famous! He said I could rule the world if I go the right way about it!” she told Cat.
Though Cat had no doubt that Gwendolen would be famous, he could not see how she could rule the world, and he said so. “You’d only rule one country, even if you married the King,” he objected. “And the Prince of Wales got married last year.”
“There are more ways of ruling than that, stupid!” Gwendolen retorted. “Mr. Nostrum has lots of ideas for me, for a start. Mind you, there are some snags. There’s a change for the worse that I have to surmount, and a dominant Dark Stranger. But when he told me I’d rule the world my fingers all twitched, so I know it’s true!” There seemed no limit to Gwendolen’s glowing confidence.
The next day, Miss Larkins the Clairvoyant called Cat into her house and offered to tell his fortune too.
2
C AT WAS ALARMED by Miss Larkins. She was the daughter of Mr. Larkins at the junk shop. She was young and pretty and fiercely red-headed. She wore the red hair piled into a bun on top of her head, from which red tendrils of hair escaped and tangled becomingly with earrings like hoops for parrots to sit on. She was a very talented clairvoyant and, until the story of the cat became known, Miss Larkins had been the pet of the neighborhood. Cat remembered that even his mother had given Miss Larkins presents.
Cat knew Miss Larkins was offering to tell his fortune out of jealousy of Gwendolen. “No. No, thank you very much,” he said, backing away from Miss Larkins’ little table spread with objects of divination. “It’s quite all right. I don’t want to know.”
But Miss Larkins advanced on him and seized him by his shoulders. Cat squirmed. Miss Larkins used a scent that shrieked VIOLETS! at him, her earrings swung like manacles, and her corsets creaked when she was close to. “Silly boy!” Miss Larkins said, in her rich, melodious voice. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know.”
“But—but I don’t,” Cat said, twisting this way and that.
“Hold still,” said Miss Larkins, and tried to stare deep into Cat’s eyes.
Cat shut his eyes hastily. He squirmed harder than ever. He might have got loose, had not Miss Larkins abruptly gone off into some kind of trance. Cat found himself being gripped with a strength that would have surprised him even in the Willing Warlock. He opened his eyes to find Miss Larkins staring blankly at him. Her body shook, creaking her corsets like old doors swinging in the wind. “Oh, please let go!” Cat said. But Miss Larkins did not appear to hear. Cat took hold of the fingers gripping his shoulders, and tried to prise them loose. He could not move them. After that, he could only stare helplessly at Miss Larkins’ blank face.
Miss Larkins opened her mouth, and quite a different voice came out. It was a man’s voice, brisk and kindly. “You’ve taken a weight off my mind, lad,” it said. It sounded pleased. “There’ll be a big change coming up for you now. But you’ve been awfully careless—four gone already, and only five left. You must take more care. You’re in danger from at least two directions,