The email on Scottie McIntosh’s iPad read

You and your stupid sisters had better watch out. We have come. Earth is doomed and so are you.

Ha-ha

Fighters of Drudgeon

P.S. And don’t even start to think that those three birdbrain old witches can save you this time.

Scottie stared at the words, unable to believe his eyes.  In his shock, he first thought it was a message from some cyber bully from school. But he quickly came to his senses. No one except his sisters Clara and Kyran knew about the frightening adventure he had last year.

He had followed his magical friend, a boy named Uwan, into another time and space. Thugines, aliens from a planet called Drudgeon, had kidnapped him. The thugines planned to destroy all wonder and joy on Earth, starting with the work of three witches who lived in Outback Australia. Those were the birdbrain witches that the email was talking about. However Philomena, Dolores and Margaret were among the smartest people Scottie knew.

Scottie and Uwan had been rescued with the help of his sisters, and the witches and a pet goat and they all thought that the Thugines’ schemes had been stopped. But this hope had now been completely dashed.

Scottie’s hands were sticky with cold sweat as he closed his laptop and rushed across the room to an ancient computer. It was hidden under a dusty moth-eaten camping blanket in the back of his wardrobe. Scottie dragged it out and brushed off a few remaining moths, who flew off grumpily. He set it on his desk.

The computer, old and clunky though it was, could send invisible messages to the witches. Scottie knew he had had to get their advice before he told his sisters the terrible news.

The computer’s keyboard had an annoying habit of disappearing as soon as anyone used it. You had to guess where the keys were, but Scottie kept his message as simple as possible to avoid the mistakes that his fingers usually made. Even so, he left out some letters and spaces and pressed on wrong keys so that his email read:

JELP! THGINSR BCK

When Dolores, who didn’t check emails very often, read the message three days later she didn’t understand what it meant. And it took another day before she finally realised.

By that time things had gone very badly indeed.

Two days before Scottie sent his email, Margaret and Dolores were sitting in two purple-plush armchairs in front of their kitchen fireplace. A blackened pot was bubbling on the fire and the delicious smell of homemade chicken and herb soup wafted into the air. Their pet goat, Poppins, was snoring on a rug in front of them.

‘I am really concerned about Philomena,’ Margaret said. ‘She is not recovering properly from that nasty flu she got last month. In fact, she is spending more and more time in bed, and I haven’t seen her make a magical wand in over a six weeks. Our stocks are running very low.’ A worried frown appeared between her eyebrows. The witches depended for their living on selling magical objects to supermarkets and weekend craft stalls.

Dolores frowned. ‘You are right, Margaret. I did not like to worry you, but the other night I took her a cup of hot cactus tonic. But at first she didn’t seem to recognise me at all. She shrank back as if I was a stranger and then she shrieked that I had been sent by the Thugines to poison her!’

Margaret felt a cold shudder run through her. Of the three witches, Margaret had the gentlest nature. She did not like horror movies or computer games where players killed people or exploded buildings. The last thing she wanted was to hear the word Thugine mentioned in their cosy, friendly home.

Dolores saw that Margaret was upset. She said quickly, ‘I am sure it meant nothing. Probably she had just woken up from a nightmare.’

But Margaret was not convinced. ‘I don’t think it was a nightmare. Yesterday Jasper was trying to cheer her up by feeding her chocolate biscuit. That parrot loves Philomena and he is the first one to know when she is miserable. Chocolate biscuits usually make her smile. But not yesterday. She hid them under her pillow when he wasn’t looking. I don’t think she trusts even Jasper. Something is definitely wrong.’

Dolores sat back, closed her eyes and consulted the quiet centre in her mind, which is what she always did whenever there was a problem she couldn’t work out by logic. 

At last she said, ‘Although she is getting older, I don’t think Philomena has a weakened brain. I think she is eating something that is causing her strange behaviour.’

Margaret looked troubled. ‘Do you think she has an allergy? I hope it isn’t something I have given her.’

Dolores suddenly stood up. She said firmly, ‘I think we should go into her bedroom and have a good look round. You know how she has a stash of sweets hidden in her old trainers because she thinks I don’t approve. If she is eating something we don’t know about, it will be there.’

The two women climbed the curving iron staircase to Philomena’s room. Margaret knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer.

Dolores knocked again more loudly. She called out, ‘Philomena, we need to speak to you. Please let us in.’

There was still no answer.

The witches looked at each other in alarm. ‘We’ll have to go in whether she likes it or not.’ Dolores turned the knob and pushed hard. The door would not budge.

‘I think she has jammed her treasure chest against it,’ said Margaret, putting her eye to the keyhole. ‘I can see some gold metal there.’

Dolores looked grim. ‘Well, there is no way we are going to get in if she has done that. She will have switched on the elephant weight app to stop thieves carrying it away. It will be so heavy there is no way we will be able to move it.’

‘I’ll get the ladder,’ Margaret said. ‘We’ll have to climb through her window.’

Dolores put up her hand. ‘First, let’s talk to Jasper. I am sure she will have magically barred the window too. But if she thinks it is Jasper who wants to get in she will unbar it.’

They both rushed down the stairs and back into the kitchen where there was a large old-fashioned cuckoo clock next to the dresser. Margaret tapped on it lightly. Immediately the door opened and a large white cockatoo squeezed himself out.

‘Good boy wanna biscuit,’ it croaked sleepily.

‘Definitely not,’ said Dolores sternly. ‘You haven’t eaten anything at all healthy for two days. Not even a piece of apple.’

Jasper said nothing. He just pecked at her hand sharply to show he didn’t like her.

‘Actually, we don’t want to talk about your breakfast’ said Margaret hastily. ‘We came because we need your help. It’s about Philomena. She has locked herself in her room and won’t answer us. We think she is ill in her mind because she has eaten something bad. We have to find out what it is.’

Jasper cocked his head and stared at her with his bright eyes. He flew to the back of a chair and bounced up and down, flapping his wings. He began to let out sharp little screeches. Unlike Philomena, neither Margaret nor Dolores could speak to birds, but even they knew that Jasper he wanted to tell them something.

‘Go on,’ Dolores urged him. ‘Can you show us what you mean?’

Jasper suddenly dropped his head and began to shiver. He turned his head away so that he no longer looked at them.

‘I think he feels guilty,’ said Margaret. ‘Maybe he has given something to her that has made her sick.’

Jasper sat up and shook his head. ‘Good boy, you’re a good boy!’ he said loudly, and bounced up and down even more.

‘It’s all right, Jasper,’ said Margaret, trying to calm him down. ‘Of course, you would never do anything to hurt Philomena deliberately. I’m sorry. I just meant you might have given her something by mistake.’

Jasper bobbed his head to show he accepted her apology. He flew into the living room and landed on a bookshelf where well-used books on secret spells, botany, needlework, mushroom growing, hat making, and precious stones were lined up in orderly rows. He put his horny claw on one called ‘Gifts for Friends, Enemies and Everyone In-between.’

Dolores and Margaret looked at each other and both said together, ‘A gift? She has been given a gift?’

Jasper gave a quick bob of agreement. Suddenly Margaret remembered, ‘I know! Philomena received a parcel wrapped in red ribbon by camel post several weeks ago. One of her weight loss potion customers sent her a present of sugarplums candies to thank her for shrinking a full dress size overnight. She was thrilled because it was the first present any customer has ever given her.’

‘Not surprising,’ said Dolores sourly, ‘No one appreciates us because most people think our job is just making hocus-pocus objects for silly teenage girls and very young children who like anything brightly colored.’

Margaret ignored this remark. It was not a good idea to disagree with Dolores when she was in a bad mood. She turned back to Jasper. 

‘Do you know where the sugarplums are, Jasper? Is she still eating them?’

Jasper shook his head and then nodded. Margaret took this to mean that he didn’t know where the plums were, but that Philomena was still eating them.

‘There is only one thing for it,’ Dolores said. ‘We have to get her out of that room and search it.’

‘I’ll call the Flying Ambulance Service,’ she added. ‘We will say she is mentally unstable and we need her taken to a hospital where she can be given proper treatment.’

Margaret looked doubtful. ‘Are you sure? Philomena could be made worse if she is taken away by force.’

‘If she can no longer eat those poisonous plums, she will probably come to her senses,’ Dolores replied. Margaret nodded sadly.

Two hours later the Flying Ambulance officers came. But when they broke into Philomena’s bedroom, there was no one there. Philomena had disappeared. Only a faint sugary smell hung in the air.

As soon as Scottie sent his call for help to the witches, he decided it was time to tell his sisters the bad news. Clutching his iPad closely to his chest, he hurried down to Clara’s room where he could hear loud music turned up to an ear-splitting level. He stopped at her door and had second thoughts about going in.

Clara had changed in the last year. She had always been a common sense kind of girl and interested in serious scientific subjects. But now her interests had turned from astronomy and geology to pop music and vampire books.

What was worse from Scottie’s point of view was that Clara had given up the lessons in practical spells sent to her by the witches each month. She said magic was useless because it didn’t work anyway. Scottie and his other sister Kryan did not understand why she had such a crazy idea because they had both been saved by magic methods only a year ago.

Scottie thought her new opinions were all to do with Clara becoming a teenager, and he secretly hoped he would never become one. There was hardly a teenager he knew who was happy. They seemed to think it was cool to be miserable.

Scottie decided to tell Kyran first. He didn’t feel like an argument with Clara who would probably start yelling at him even before he had finished what he had to say. He knocked on the door next to Clara’s and heard Kyran telling him to come in.

When he did he was surprised to see Kyran sitting on her bed with her arms around Clara. Clara was sobbing fit to burst her eyes out of her head.

‘Clara has been suspended from school,’ Kryan said in a hushed voice. ‘She has been accused of cheating at her mathematics exam.’

‘But that’s ridiculous,’ Scottie said firmly. ‘Clara is really good at maths. Why would she cheat?’ He turned to Clara. ‘There’s got to be a mistake, Clara. You have to find out.’

Clara turned a white, tear-stained face towards him. ‘It’s not what you think, Scottie. I did kind of cheat. It was a game. Lily-Ann dared me to hack into Mr. Holbrook’s computer to find the maths exam. And I did. But what I don’t know is how Mr. Holbrook found out because, I promise you, Scottie, I didn’t read it. I just found the file and closed the computer quickly again. Lily-Ann was there. She will tell you that’s the truth.’

Kyran rolled her eyes above Clara’s head. She had distrusted Clara’s best friend, Lily-Ann from the time she first set eyes on her.

‘Who else could have known you did that?’ Scottie asked.

‘The only person who knew was Lily-Ann,’ Clara answered, dropping her eyes. ‘But she wouldn’t have told anyone. She’s my best friend.’

Kyran stared at her suspiciously. ‘But how did you learn to hack into computers anyway?’

Clara’s face went very red. ‘I have a boyfriend,’ she said in a whisper.  ‘He has been showing me. He’s really, really good at that kind of stuff.’

Her sister and brother stared at her in horror. Neither of them could say a single word.

Kyran grabbed Clara by the shoulders and shook her hard. ‘I never thought I would say this to you of all people Clara, but you are a total idiot! Who is he? And when have you been doing this?’

Sticking her chin out in a weak attempt to be defiant, Clara answered. ‘His name is Jordan and he has been showing me in after-school media class. And I am not an idiot. He is really cool and I love him. You can’t say anything against him. ’

Scottie wanted to stick his finger down his throat, but then a sudden thought flashed into his mind.

‘Is he that new boy I saw hanging around the skate park last week? The tall one who was showing off front side heel flips to you and the other girls?’

Clara nodded.

Scottie frowned. ‘Someone told me he enrolled at your school because he was kicked out of the last one for selling drugs to the Year 9s.’ Scottie was particularly against drugs because he had been tempted by the Thugines to try one, and that had turned out to be a major disaster.

‘That kid is trash’, he said firmly.

“You don’t understand him,’ Clara spat back fiercely. ‘It wasn’t like that at all. He said that someone planted those drugs on him, and then told the teachers.’

‘Yeah,’ replied Scottie. ‘Get real. He’s a show-off and he’s into stupid and dangerous activities as well.’

Clara was about to make another furious reply when the door burst open and Mr. McIntosh stormed into the room. ‘Clara,’ he said in a scarily quiet voice. ‘Get downstairs. Your mother and I want to talk to you. We have just had a most disturbing phone call from the school principal.’

Clara stood up and slunk out of the room after him.

Scottie and Kyran stared at the closed door, and then at each other as they heard muffled shouts from the lounge room downstairs.

Kyran said quietly, ‘I can’t see what Clara sees in Jordan. He’s not the type she would have liked a year ago. But really she is not the person she used to be. Have you noticed she is getting fatter, too?  She’s eating an awful lot of junk food.’

Scottie didn’t reply. Instead, he said, ‘We’ve got worse problems, Kyran. I think the Thugines are back.’ He opened up his laptop and showed her the email he had just received.

Kyran went so pale Scottie thought she was about to faint. He said quickly, ‘It’s okay. I have told Dolores. I am sure the witches will tell us what to do.’

His sister nodded weakly. ‘I think I had better find Clara’s crystal ball, the one Margaret gave her to check on the Thugines last year.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Scottie said, hope flooding through him.

But when they finally found the crystal in Clara’s room, it looked dusty and lifeless. It had been tucked at the back of a drawer full of half used make-up, and crumpled wrappers for potato chips, Twisties, marshmallows, and chocolate ice cream. A thin layer of grease and sugar covered its once sparkling surface.

Kyran remembered that you cleaned crystals by putting them in salted water and letting them sit in moonlight overnight. But when they looked into the newly washed crystal the next day, the picture showed Philomena tied to tree. She was in her dressing gown. Tears were slowly pouring down her wrinkled old cheeks. As the horrified children watched, the image moved to show a gang of girls and boys dressed in long black cloaks and masks of devils pointing at her, and laughing.

Kyran began to cry and Scottie was so angry he threw the crystal through Kyran’s bedroom window. It thumped into a garden bed, but fortunately was unharmed.