William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I
Chapter 13 A night visitor

It was very late at night, when through his sleep William heard a strange dull sound near his bed. The sound was quiet, but it woke William up. In the dark, he clearly heard somebody turning a door handle in his room. A weird idea flashed through William’s head, that the Hoggarts had known about the study all along and now, when they had realized that he knew about it as well, they had come to deal with him. He thrust his hand under his pillow, took his feather out and froze, staring at the door to his room. The creaking of the handle being turned repeated again.

“Illuminatio!” William whispered and the candle on his desk lit up at once, dimly lighting the room.

The light of the candle helped him understand where the sound was coming from. To William’s horror, the source of the sound was, indeed, behind a door. But it was a completely different handle being turned and on a completely different door. In silent despair, William watched the handle on the door leading to the study of Reginald Hoggart slowly going down. This fear seemed to have paralyzed him, but William managed to overcome that fear, jumped off his bed, dashed through his room and hid behind the back of the displaced wardrobe, his feather at the ready. The moment he hid, the stone door opened with a thud. Still hiding behind the wardrobe, William dreaded to see the person who was about to enter the room. Suddenly his eyes fell on the floor by the stone door. He clearly saw somebody’s shadow fall onto the lit area. In the dim light, he could barely make out a large hunchback figure in a dirty travelling cloak, which appeared in the doorway. Once inside the room, the one hiding under that cloak froze for a moment, then limped towards his bed. Finding bravery in hopelessness, William jumped out of his hiding spot and, horrified by his own bravery, directed his magic feather at the night visitor.

“Who are you?” he asked with fear in his voice.

The large figure turned to William and he felt numb at the sight of the horrible wrinkled face.

“I can ask you the same thing, wizard!” a low hoarse voice replied, then the figure made a step towards William.

He waved his feather at once, as a silent threat, and said in a trembling voice:

“Don’t come any closer! Or there’ll be trouble!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, wizard!” the large hunchback replied peacefully, waving his large hands in front of himself. “I just need to know who you are!”

His forehead wrinkling, he approached William slowly, examined his features closely, then said:

“So, that’s how you look like…”

William felt really uneasy under his look. He even made an attempt to step back, but instead just pressed his back against the wall. Finally, as he overcame his fear, he said in an unsteady voice:

“Step away from me, stranger, and stand at a distance!”

The large hunchback stepped away obediently. William gave him a look of distrust and continued:

“So, you’re saying that you’ve sneaked into my room in the middle of the night just to replace out who I am?!”

“I apologize for coming here, wizard, but I had to make sure I wasn’t mistaken.”

“Mistaken about what?!”

“About a feather-bearer living in this house again!”

“Perhaps, you can tell me who you are?!” William asked, calmer than before, but with some degree of fear.

“Gobry Beakok at your service, wizard!”

“What service, what are you talking about?”

“I am the Assistant of the Magic Feather Graveyard’s Keeper!”

“What graveyard?”

“Magic Feather Graveyard!” Gobry repeated.

The logic of the events escaping him for a moment, William, who was still holding his magic feather, attempted to get a clear answer to the question bothering him:

“How did you get in here?!” he asked in bewilderment, still eyeing the huge hunchback with fear.

“Like always, through the featherture!” he wheezed.

“What featherture?”

“The featherture of Reginald Hoggart!” Gobry specified. “I used to visit the house frequently through it, but then…” he breathed out, looking sad, “then there was no need in that.”

“Did you use to live here?” William’s brows shot up in wonder. “Is this your house?”

“No, but my masters used to live here.”

“Who were your masters?” William’s voice sounded curious rather than frightened now.

“The Hoggarts! I used to serve the noble Hoggart kin!”

“Well, then you’re in luck, because the Hoggarts live here still!”

“But they aren’t my masters!” Gobry wheezed, his voice slightly raised. “My masters used to be wizards!”

“What happened to them?” William asked, his curiosity growing and his hand with the magic feather slowly dropping involuntarily.

“They…” Gobry seemed to replace talking hard. “They’ve renounced!”

“Feathermages!” William remembered.

Gobry let out a sad gasp.

“Exactly…” He looked at William again. “Tell me your name, young wizard!”

“William Calhoun.”

“Calhoun! So was it you who entered the study today?” he gave the stone door an involuntary look.

“Yes, me! How do you know about it?”

“I always know when the Keeper is in his room.”

“What keeper?”

“The Keeper of the Magic Feather Graveyard!”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“You are the new Keeper now, William Calhoun!”

William was silent, trying to make sense of the mess in his head, while his night visitor continued:

“You live here,” Gobry said. “You may have been unaware of this, but the Graveyard cannot remain without a Keeper! Now it’s yours, William Calhoun!”

“But I don’t want to be a keeper of some graveyard!” William replied, his voice tinged with disgust.

His disrespectful tone didn’t escape Gobry.

“It is not some graveyard, William Calhoun!” he snarled, making William grip his magic feather tighter. “It is the Magic Feather Graveyard, and it keeps the secrets of many wizard families!” This sent shivers down William’s spine.

“And where is it?” he asked in a fake busy-like tone.

“Come,” Gobry turned around, “I’ll take you there, William Calhoun!” And he started descending the stairs slowly.

Holding his feather tight, William, wearing only his pyjamas, followed Gobry down to the underground study. When Gobry had reached the portrait of Reginald Hoggart, he unceremoniously pressed William to himself with one of his hands clad in rough thick gloves and touched the bottom part of the portrait with another one. In less than a moment, they were standing by some rock, Gobry’s hand upon it. They were surrounded by swampy area. It was damp and chilly here, frogs croaking and other creatures making weird noises all over the place. Right before him, not far from the place they were standing, William noticed many stone figures with feathers in their hands. Some of the stone statues were stone feathers, birds, wings, beaks… In other words, they depicted anything that could be at least somehow connected with birds. Despite their small size, in the moonlight, the figures seemed really impressive and even frightening. Judging by the swampy area – William understood it right away – they were far from London at the moment.

“Is this the graveyard you’ve been talking about?” he asked Gobry.

“That’s the one!” he wheezed loudly. “Come!”

And the hunchback led him through the graves somewhere deep into the graveyard. Soon they were in the heart of it, where a small hut stood, its only window blinking dimly.

“This is where Gobry probably lives!” William guessed. They entered the hut, Gobry offered him a chair and limped to the stove. He picked up a large kettle, poured the hot drink into wooden cups and set them on the table.

“We’re going to have a long conversation, William Calhoun. I’ve got a lot to tell you!”

“What do you want to talk about?” William sat down and looked around.

Gobry’s hut, though open to winds, was rather warm thanks to a large stove, blazing with fire. There was a large pile of hay not far from William, which probably served as Gobry’s bed.

“Lately, it’s been disquiet at the Magic Feather Graveyard!” Gobry said severely, then paused meaningfully and took a noisy sip from his wooden cup.

“I don’t understand you at all,” William sniffed at the drink, made sure that it was merely some tea and sipped confidently, because he got cold on the way here.

“Bad and eerie things have started happening around here!” Gobry wheezed again, nodding at the window of his hut. Then he added in a low voice: “Somebody started digging the graves!” At this, he gave William an intent stare.

Still very dimly aware of how this could be connected to him, he sipped at his hot tea again, then asked:

“Who needs digging the bodies out, Gobry?”

“Bodies?!” Gobry’s face showed amusing puzzlement.

“Well, this is the graveyard!”

“There aren’t any bodies here, William Calhoun!” Gobry said indignantly. “This is the Magic Feather Graveyard, not that of wizards!”

“You mean, it’s wizard feathers that are buried here, not wizards themselves?”

“Yes, that’s right!”

“But how is this connected to me? How does it concern me?”

“It’s connected quite directly!” Gobry wheezed, hitting the wooden table with his large fist. “These are now your duties – to know everything that has happened and is happening still around here, William Calhoun!”

“Do you seriously believe that I have to become the Keeper of this graveyard?”

“It’s not the wizard that chooses whether they should be a Keeper or not! It’s the Graveyard that chooses its Keeper!” These words made William shrivel in his chair.

“So, I can’t refuse this job?”

“Of course you can’t!” Gobry’s wrinkled face was twisted by his ugly smile. “The Magic Feather Graveyard and its Keeper are connected by very powerful magic, and neither of them can escape it! Being the Keeper of the Magic Feather Graveyard means being the keeper of all the past mysteries kept by the feathers themselves! And that is a great honour, William Calhoun!”

William gave his words a bit of thinking, then asked sadly:

“But what can I do? I can’t even control my own feather properly so far, not mentioning controlling the whole Magic Feather Graveyard! I’m just starting to learn magic, Gobry.”

“The Graveyard itself will teach you how to handle it. The feathers hardened long time ago, so you won’t need to do anything, William Calhoun! They only thing required is to visit this place every day.”

“Well, if it’s just visiting, then, I guess, I can give it a try!” William agreed. “You said bad things were happening here. What did you mean?”

“Dead Feathers!..” Gobry cried out angrily, then lowered his voice to a half-whisper and continued: “…are becoming alive again for some reason! Obviously, not without outside help!” One of his eyes was constantly twitching.

“But I thought there was nobody else here except for you!”

“That’s right! But somebody has been coming here for several years!” Gobry took a large gulp out of his cup. “And each time they come, they dig out somebody’s magic feather!”

“Why would anyone need buried magic feathers, if they have, as you say, hardened?”

“Gobry doesn’t know that! Perhaps, HE takes their energy to stay alive!” Gobry seemed to be afraid of his own words.

William immediately remembered El’s words. Back then, after their first Featherology class, at ‘Dwarf and Centaur’ El told him that some magic beings needed to replenish their energy and drew new life energy from magic feathers. That was why the hunchback’s words excited him and he asked with interest:

“But who is HE?”

“Gobry doesn’t know! He has just seen a few times how HE, all dressed in black, visits this place and does his dark deed, then leaves as quietly as he comes! But one thing I can say for sure,” Gobry switched to whisper again, as if he was afraid somebody would hear him. “Only one wizard can dig out magic feathers from the Magic Feather Graveyard!”

“Who is he?” William was all ears.

“The Keeper,” Gobry stared at William and then added: “But that wizard was older and bigger than you, William Calhoun, which means that it wasn’t you.”

“There you have it! He must be your Keeper, not me,” feeling relieved, William leaned back in his chair.

“Not a chance!” Gobry still had his examining look on William. “Gobry can always sense a Keeper.”

For a moment, William even thought that Gobry was sniffing.

“But you can be mistaken!”

“Actually, I can’t.” Gobry’s hands flinched at those words, which didn’t escape William’s attention. “I’m bound by a Contract with this place as well,” his eyes glanced at the window, then they were back to William almost at once. “I serve the feathers buried here and obey their will.”

“And so the feathers themselves…” William started to understand, “serve me.”

“That’s right!” Gobry nodded. “All their power and might will be under your command over time, William Calhoun.”

William suddenly remembered about the Hoggarts and asked: “Tell me about the former masters of the graveyard, Gobry! Who were they?”

Gobry took another large sip from his cup, glanced towards the window and started telling:

“Long time ago, the Hoggarts were the masters of the Magic Feather Graveyard. But after a while, they buried their own feathers, renouncing their duties as Keepers.”

“You said that the connection between the Keeper and the Magic Feather Graveyard is unbreakable. How did they manage to do it?”

“They renounced magic and thus betrayed their essence!” Gobry growled. “That was what broke their connection with the Graveyard! Only this horrible way can dissolve the Contract between the Magic Feather Graveyard and its Keeper!”

“Really!” William could already sense that Gobry’s story would be rather helpful for him. He didn’t regret coming here anymore, even though to do it, he had to wake up in horror and trudge through a graveyard at night into the unknown. “How long has the graveyard existed?” he inquired.

“For about four centuries! The Magic Feather Graveyard was created four hundred years ago!”

“Who created it? The Hoggarts?”

“This place has many creators!” Gobry replied thoughtfully. “There was unmeasurable amount of them, millions! But the Magic Feather Graveyard created itself!”

“I don’t understand, Gobry! Could you speak more clearly?” William asked him.

“Once it was an ordinary deserted area, and wizards who had to bury their feathers for one reason or another started coming here, because it was always empty and lifeless. They kept brining their feathers here and over some time, this place got a gloomy reputation! Since then, it has been called the Magic Feather Graveyard. At that time, there wasn’t a single wizard who hadn’t heard about this place. The Hoggarts, who owned this land, had become unspoken masters of the Magic Feather Graveyard without knowing it, because it needed someone to look after it. For there had always been those who wanted to dig out somebody’s magic feather and use it for bad things, keeping their own feather clean! And later the Magic Feather Graveyard had turned into a place where the feathers of murdered wizards were brought and buried. That was why the Hoggarts started looking after the graveyard, even if unwillingly. But then one morning they stopped coming here!” the hunchback Gobry said bitterly.

“Perhaps they had a really good reason for that?”

“Gobry doesn’t know that! One way or another, more than four hundred years have passed since that rainy morning, and all that time the Magic Feather Graveyard has remained orphaned! But as soon as a wizard stepped into the Hoggart’s basement, Gobry instantly felt the presence of a magic feather. At first, I didn’t believe it and I thought that I was sensing things. But then I decided to sneak into the house and see it for myself!”

William thanked the fate that Gobry had doubts about the appearance of a wizard. The mere thought about the hunchback peregrining into the study of Reginald Hoggart the moment Mr. and Mrs. Hoggart were carelessly discussing the possibility of inert gases in there and that they could suddenly replace a very real Gobry instead, made William panic. He realized that next time Gobry could catch the poor Hoggarts off guard…

Meanwhile, Gobry continued his story:

“Rightfully believing that after all those years the Magic Feather Graveyard had finally acquired a Keeper, I considered my duty to meet the chosen wizard and to bring him here! YOU are that wizard, William Calhoun and now YOU are the master around here! I am going to be your loyal assistant, like I used to be for the Hoggarts.”

Suddenly becoming aware of the great responsibility now placed upon him, William asked Gobry:

“You said someone has been digging graves for many years… How long has it been?”

“It’s been fifteen years since the first dug-out graves have appeared, William Calhoun.”

“When was the last time?”

“Very recently! About two weeks ago!”

William started thinking about it, but Gobry’s voice brought him back to reality:

“Three feathers were dug out last time! And the villain who had done it disappeared without a trace and hasn’t come ever since.”

“Oh, I see!” William was going to get up when Gobry came up to an old rickety cupboard and took out a cracked book in a wooden cover out of it. After which he placed the tome in front of William.

“What is it, Gobry?” William gave the unusual book a curious look.

“It’s a log that lists the names of the owners of the buried feathers!” Gobry explained. He opened the log and pointed at the pages that were full of notes.

William scanned the names, then gave Gobry a puzzled look.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Just know about it,” he replied mysteriously.

“Well, let’s consider that I already know! Alright, I’ll visit the place every day after classes, to see how you are doing, then return home. And now,” he got up and walked to the door, “would you be so kind to take me back?”

“Wouldn’t William Calhoun like to look at the dugout graves?”

“Not today!” William refused wearily. “I’ve got Featherology tomorrow and I really want to sleep! Perhaps, next time!”

“Well, then, I’ll escort William Calhoun back to the featherture!” Gobry moved towards the exit and William followed him.

They headed to the edge of the Graveyard. As promised, Gobry took him to one of the moss-covered gravestones, shaped like a huge bird beak sticking out of the ground.

When it was time to part, William spoke up first:

“Tell me, Gobry! I’ve encountered a featherture once, but I’d like to know more about them. Tell me, what is it?”

“It’s a portrait of a wizard that has been created to peregrine, not to look at!” Gobry wheezed.

“How to distinguish it from an ordinary portrait?”

“Wizards are depicted WITHOUT a magic feather on the ordinary portraits. It’s not the only, but the main difference, William Calhoun.”

“I see!” A thought ran through William’s head and he hurried to take his leave. “Well, Gobry! See you tomorrow! And, please, don’t make it a habit of yours to wake me up in the middle of the night or come to my house! You can be seen and I’ll be in trouble because of it!”

“Gobry will not visit the young wizard without a dire need!” Gobry bowed clumsily.

William placed his hand on the stone beak sticking out of the ground and peregrined into the study of Reginald Hoggart, leaving the Magic Feather Graveyard, the Keeper of which he’d become that night. He went up to his room, made sure that the door was closed tight and lay down into his bed again. After giving everything he’d learned from Gobry some thought, William paid extra attention to his words about the strong connection between the Keeper and the Magic Feather Graveyard. Then he remembered the silly circumstances that had led to discovering the bare part of the wall.

Indeed, a trifle turned into a real story, day by day sprouting incredible consequences. How could he have even imagined that: only a couple of days later, a large hunchback came after him in the middle of the night and proclaimed him the Keeper of the Magic Feather Graveyard!

William had almost stopped being surprised with the fact that these incredible events were happening to him. He had almost believed that the chain of events wasn’t accidental and that his first meeting with Nymus at the café had been predetermined by some higher powers that had a yet unclear destiny laid out for him. After thinking this all over, he really believed in the connection of the Keeper and the Graveyard Gobry was so serious about.

“Poor Hoggarts,” he thought, falling into sleep gradually, “they know absolutely nothing about their ancestors!”

Even though they differed so little from William in this matter, he felt ashamed for doubting the nice Hoggarts, believing that they could do him even the slightest harm. He fell asleep to this calming thought, making a promise to himself never to doubt their sincerity and kindness again, as he had done before.

***

The next day, during the Featherology class, William told El in detail how his conversation with the Hoggarts went and what their reaction to the study of Reginald Hoggart was. After learning all the details, El said that they were feathermages indeed and they weren’t to be suspected of anything. And when William told him about the events of the last night, El wanted to visit the Magic Feather Graveyard himself! According to him, he’d heard a lot about it from his cousin Lenny! He also confirmed Gobry’s words, that there were legends about that place. Like, many people still argued if it existed at all or if it was merely a scary made-up story for children. In the end, they decided to peregrine to William’s house after the class and then to head straight to the Magic Feather Graveyard.

When they entered William’s house, they didn’t replace the Hoggarts there, as expected. They immediately went down to the study of Reginald Hoggart and peregrined to the Graveyard. There, they headed to Gobry’s hut, where they found him kindling the stove. When he saw William, he seemed immensely happy about him returning like promised.

“William Calhoun! I’m glad you don’t forget about your property!” he greeted him, then gave El a look of distrust, while El stood speechless at the mere sight of Gobry.

“Hello, Gobry! I did promise to come here!” William said and pointed at El: “Meet Elian Gibbs!”

“Gobry Beakok!” the hunchback held out his large hand to El. “It’s an honour to meet Keeper’s friends!”

“Likewise, Gobry!” El replied. “You know, I’ve heard so much about this place, but I couldn’t even imagine that I’d come here one day! I can’t wait to look around!”

“It’s best not to wander around the swamps today!” Gobry wheezed, glancing at the window. “It has been raining since morning and it’s not safe to move around the Magic Feather Graveyard!”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be visiting this place with Will from time to time,” El told Gobry.

“You like the Graveyard so much?” William grinned.

“Are you kidding?! I love such places, mate! Yeah… honestly, you’re lucky to get this job!”

“Gobry is always happy to see Keeper’s friends! And Gobry is always happy to have extra helping hands. Gobry agrees!”

“Simple, like a feather without hairs!” El pointed at Gobry with a smile. “Listen, Will, I’m almost starting to adore him!”

Gobry offered them tea and crackers, and over tea, El, who was genuinely happy to be here, bombarded Gobry with questions about the Graveyard and the local area, often accompanying his questions with distrustful shake of his head and the words: “Or did my cousin imagine all that?!”. They spent over an hour sitting like that, and, finally, William stood up, saying:

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got along well so fast, but we’ve got to go, El! You’ll have time to ask the rest of your endless questions to Gobry! And now we need to get back!” he turned to Gobry. “Thank you for the tea, Gobry!”

“I’m always happy to treat the Keeper!” he replied. He took El and him to the featherture and the young men peregrined.

***

About two months passed since the night Gobry had first showed William the Magic Feather Graveyard. December arrived. Nymus sometimes visited him, passing him letters from his demit school, sent to the Hoggarts. William almost immediately told him about Gobry and the Magic Feather Graveyard and offered to go there together. But Nymus refused this offer straight away.

“Master Calhoun, mailmages should not visit places where magic feathers are buried!” he explained his refusal in a slightly frightened voice. “That can have a bad influence on our mailmage instincts later! For Letters Sake, don’t ask me that again!”

As for the letters Nymus kept bringing him, William was still mentioned there as William Hoggart. Giving his past a sad smile, William burnt them one by one. He honestly kept the promise he had given Gobry. Every day, after returning home from class, he visited the Magic Feather Graveyard first and spent some time there. According to Gobry’s reports, after the Graveyard had gotten its Keeper again, there were no more feathers dug out. Those were the quiet times, there was nothing substantial happening in William’s life, except for the Featherology classes. During his studies, he learned all the basic spells. And knowing them was already enough for studying at a MUni. He was able to use his magic feather much better than before. Actually, during the Featherology classes, all Professor Pickwick did was giving them assignments to study the properties of magic spells and the theory of using them, and in class, they were supposed to demonstrate their skills of practical use. William had the best results in the entire group. He was able to manage almost each spell from the first attempt and excellently, too. Even Professor Pickwick stopped ignoring him and praised him openly, delighted with his abilities. The Professor even told him once that it was the first time he saw someone so young being so skilful with the magic feather. Moreover, at the end of the classes, he offered William come visit him, to tell him over a cup of tea about his progress at a MUni or just to ask for an advice or for help in the matters connected with the use of magic spells. No wonder William was delighted because of that and he was very proud of his friendship with Pickwick.

In December, the Featherology classes came to an end. William and El spent the last week getting their Featherology reports ready, a task given by Pickwick to all enrolees. Each of them got their own topic. As they defended their topic later, they had to demonstrate their skills in practice. William had to write a report about ‘Properties of Magic feathers and their connection to their owners’. As he was preparing it, he learned a lot of useful information. For example, that a magic feather could submit another, weaker feather. Which, in its turn, gave the power over the owner of the weaker feather. El got a rather explicit topic ‘Interaction of magic feathers with higher plants’. Higher plants meant magic plants, the ivy guard being one of them, naturally. Much to El’s dismay, Pickwick hadn’t forgiven him for violent treatment of the ivy guard of his house. When their reports were completely finished, they started vigorously practicing the practical part, and in the end, they both managed to pass the Featherology with the highest grades, receiving fifteen out of fifteen possible.