Clara Rocchiccioli took second place in the years 10/11/12 story category of the Wangaratta Young Writers Award with this piece. The competition is run annually by the Rotary Club of Appin Park Wangaratta and the Rotary Club of Wangaratta, and is supported by the Wangaratta Library. "The only way to fix this," declared Vivix, "is with time travel." His bright green hair, the accidental result of an experiment, flopped across his eyes as he looked down at the shattered fragments of glass near his feet. Quenn remained silent- her thoughts were evident from the sceptical look in her grey eyes. Kyira twirled her pencil between her fingers. "I'm sure your grandmother will forgive you, Vivix." Vivix sighed despondently. Grandma Vividrella was a genius, an expert in the magical sciences. The cube he had just shattered was one of her greatest inventions, the first magically created item to be resistant to magic. Thus, there was no way for him or his friends to repair it, except by travelling back in time to prevent it from being broken to begin with. A scratching at the latticed window interrupted Vivix's thoughts. The three friends turned from the ruined cube to see a little orange-red dragon perched on the sill outside, tapping at the pane and cheeping. "Flicker!" Kyira's midnight-blue coat swished around her ankles as she crossed the room to let in her pet. As he fluttered to his usual perch in her short black hair, Kyira remained motionless at the window, transfixed by something outside. "You should have told me your grandmother had a lettuce patch, Vivix," she muttered, dawning horror resonating through her voice. The garden looked like it had been attacked by a horde of giant snails. Flicker chirped sheepishly. "Can you write the garden back?" Vivix wondered. Kyira was a Storyweaver, who could shape reality just by scribbling in her notebook. Storyweaving was so rare, however, that she had never been properly trained: her magic was unreliable. "I can try..." "What do you know about Book Hoarders?" Kyira stared into space as she thought, tapping her pencil against her chin. "They're some of the most rarely seen dragons, because they spend all their time in their caves reading. When they seek out books, they use their sense of smell: it's finely attuned to the aroma of old paper. Book Hoarders have excellent memories and very long lifespans. They grow a new set of horns each century they live, resulting in a frill of horns all around their faces." Quenn nodded thoughtfully, brushing a piece of fluff off her stripy knitted vest. As always, her shirt was neatly ironed, and her red hair was combed and tidy. "Vivix is sure that the Strel Wizard is the only person capable of time travel. The way up to the wizard's floating tower has been lost for centuries, but surely a Book Hoarder would remember it." "Aha!" A spark lit up in Kyira's eyes, and she dashed from the room. Quenn glanced at the remains of the cube, which Vivix had swept into a dustpan. She could hear quiet muttering drifting from the house's small library, where he was talking to himself as he searched for information on the Strel Wizard. "Here it is!" Kyira had returned, brandishing a newspaper. She laid it on the table and jabbed her finger at an advertisement. Her eyes were fiery with the determination that she always had in the face of a challenge. 'Wanted: Books, preferably rare or unusual, or in the genres of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Pecuniary transactions will be made in gold. Direct enquiries to Cynderon, 1 Cave Road, Mount Thunderfall, Zayita.' In her dragon form, Quenn circled Mount Thunderfall slowly, looking for a place to land. Her shape-changing abilities had enabled the three friends to travel with more celerity than if they had hired a cabriolet. "Cave Road!" Kyira pointed at a gravelly path, bordered by small bushes, that snaked anfractuously up the mountainside. Quenn landed on the path, sending up a puff of dust. She folded her wings, waiting for Kyira and Vivix to scramble down from her scaly back before shimmering and rippling into human form. They set off up the track, which slanted steeply uphill as it curved along the side of the mountain. Kyira had expected it to end at the yawning mouth of a cave, the air filled with the Book Hoarder's smoke, and was surprised to discover that the path met its end at a wood-panelled door. The door was decorated with a mail slot and a door knocker in the shape of a book. Everything was so silent and still, Kyira felt as if the world was holding its breath, afraid to make the slightest sound in case it disturbed the dragon of Mount Thunderfall. Quenn marched up to the door and rapped on it with the knocker twice, while Flicker cheeped nervously from his perch on Kyira's shoulder. The door creaked open a little. "Humans! I have suffered enough contumely this week!" Coils of smoke accompanied the Book Hoarder's growling voice. "What do you mean?" asked Kyira. "What... contumely?" "An invidious, ignominious, impertinent person has taken one of my books! I am full of acrimony!" The Book Hoarder opened the door wider, poking out his head to glare at the three friends with golden eyes. He was covered in maroon scales, with two horns sprouting from the top of his head, and two more from the sides of his face. Vivix, Quenn and Kyira glanced at each other in puzzlement. In response, the Book Hoarder gave a huff of laughter. "What, does my grandiloquent exordium befuddle and bamboozle your brains? Is my sesquipedalian vocabulary abstruse and insuperable to your comprehension?" "Um," stammered Vivix, fiddling nervously with the fringe of his scarf, "I think so." "I have read so many books, over the centuries of my life," said the Book Hoarder, "that my vocabulary is capacious. I will try to be more luculent. My name is Cynderon, and I am distraught that a book has been stolen from my hoard. It would not have been taken, had I been there to guard my cave..." Cynderon trailed off with a gloomy sigh. "We're not here to steal your books," assured Vivix. "We are in need of help." "Go on." Cynderon emerged from the doorway, scaly tail rasping over the ground, and pulled the door shut. Kyira caught a glimpse of the room beyond: floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with books, and a whiff of old paper. "We believe that the Strel Wizard can enable us to travel in time, but we don't know how to reach the wizard's floating tower. Do you remember how it can be done? It’s a very urgent business." Cynderon growled, slow and rumbling like thunder before a storm. "I cannot tell you that. I apologise if it incommodes you, but the Strel Wizard is very pertinacious about not being disturbed. That is why the wizard has not promulgated the knowledge of how to reach the tower, and it has been forgotten." Vivix sighed, bowing his head as if he could already feel the weight of his grandmother's disappointment. Cynderon turned away, seeming eager to return to his reading, but Kyira called out, "Wait! I know what to do about your stolen book!" The Book Hoarder snorted, smoke coiling around his head. "That is mendacious of you." "If you were to join us on our quest, and travel back in time, Cynderon," continued Kyira, "then you could prevent your book from ever being stolen in the first place." "Caliginous," muttered Cynderon, as the island of Strela came into sight. Vivix and Kyira rode on his back, along with Quenn, whose dragon shape had run out. Strela, one of the twenty-six Wild Isles, was almost entirely covered by the Great City of Strel. Above the city's spires and domes and crenellated walls lay an ever-present bank of misty clouds, and from those clouds, the Wizard’s Tower emerged, suspended above the city. The tower was painted with an abstract mural that moved whenever one looked away from it. Round, porthole-like windows were cut into its sides, but they shimmered like the surface of a mirror, revealing no hint of the tower's interior. "I would recommend that Kyira write an invisibility spell for us, so none of the people of Strel may perceive our actions," said Cynderon, as he circled slowly above the city. "We are already obtruding far too much upon the wizard's peace and quiet. The way to the tower must remain secret." Kyira nodded, scribbling furiously in her notebook with a furrowed brow. Cynderon landed on a rooftop, and the three friends scrambled down from his back. Kyira tore a page from her notebook, writing down their request for the Strel Wizard as Cynderon had told her. She folded it into a dart shape and threw it at the mass of clouds overhead. Vivix watched in wonder as a breeze caught the dart, whisking it up into the clouds, towards the Wizard’s Tower. If the Strel Wizard denied their request for help, the friends would have to return home, quest unfulfilled. Vivix was afraid of Grandma Vividrella’s disappointment, rather than her anger. He twisted his fingers in his scarf’s fringe, scuffing his boots on the roofs tiles. "Look!" Quenn pointed at the tenebrous clouds, which were shifting and swirling as if stirred by an invisible spoon. There was a small patch of sky free of clouds, a perfect circle through which the sunset sky was visible. It looked like a portal to another dimension. "Splendiferous!" Cynderon fanned out his wings. "Now we may fly up, through that opening in the clouds, to the Wizard's Tower." Inside the tower, a stairwell twisted upward, spiralling like a DNA molecule into dimness. The friends ascended slowly, Cynderon folding his wings in tightly so that he could fit, claws clicking against the steps. As they neared the top of the stairs, familiar noises drifted down to Vivix’s ears. Laboratory noises: bubbling, clattering, fizzing. There was a magical sizzling in the air that made all his hair stand on end. The stairs ended in a circular room filled to the brim with the paraphernalia of magical science. Red-orange, sunset light spilled in through the round windows, reflecting off flasks, beakers and metal implements. There was even a brand-new, shiny microscope. The Strel Wizard stood with her back turned to Vivix, silver hair in a neat bun, wearing her distinctive tie-dyed lab coat. She turned around with an amused smirk as Vivix exclaimed, "Grandma Vividrella!" Vividrella sighed exasperatedly. "So, what have you broken now, Vivix?" "The cube," muttered Vivix to his feet. "And there was an incident with your lettuce garden." Flicker hid himself in Kyira's coat pocket. "Well." Vividrella began gathering her equipment as she spoke. "The only way to fix this is with time travel."
