‘Will, I’m still wondering how you weren’t blown to pieces.’ Despite the events that had heightened everybody’s emotions, Arlamus remained as blunt as ever. He sat on the edge of the sofa whilst his sister slept soundly on the seat beside him, curled up amongst large cushions and blankets. The thought of himself being killed in such a way came to Will in blurs of flying flesh, blood and fire, seeming to make saliva harden at the back of his throat.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ’I wasn’t thinking about what would happen. I was just in so much pain that it…happened.’
‘It may have been my shield,’ chimed in Mrs Wilthric. ‘You were in the house when I cast it, it may not have made much of a difference but…’
It could have saved my life.
‘So, what are we going to do about the door? It’s all in bits across the porch,’
His mother smiled. ‘You don’t choose to be a homeowner without learning some useful spells, especially living with the likes of you.’ Standing in the hallway where everybody could see her from the living room, she raised her wand like an orchestral conductor and said, ‘delerrorem.’
Chips of wood, brick and glass began to tremble on the ground, and in a simultaneous sweeping motion, it began to reassemble, filling the huge hole where the entrance had once been.
When they were slotted together, all of the cracks glistened and disappeared, everything restored to normal.
Andrel mouthed ‘wow’ and Will asked, ‘what spell was that?’
Mrs Wilthric turned around, smiling. ‘A spell to erase mistakes.’ Her expression turned suddenly grave. ‘Now, you all ought to try and get some sleep. Of to bed -,’
‘Mom?’ Andrel interrupted, sounding timid. ‘Could we – uh – sleep down her tonight? I’m just a little afraid that – well…’
She smiled, knowing her son better than he would like her to. ‘Help me get the camp beds out, then.’