Category: The Magic Quill

“The next event in which I faced Shmedly,” said the cloaked wizard after a long, thoughtful sip of firewhisky, “was the Owlympic Team Duel. The Romanian team met ours in the semifinal, and the match was delayed because the judges wanted to make sure our spells wouldn’t break through the magic circle around the combatants, as mine had in the final of the Relay event.

“In the first round of the Owlympic Relay Dueling Final, Crinkle and Lobster were given the task of tying a knot in a tree trunk. This time, Crinkle proved himself the cleverer wizard. Lobster conjured an oak seedling, which he bespelled to grow extremely fast. He was still busy bending and straining and trying to bend the growing thing into a loop when Crinkle simply conjured a large hollow log, crawled inside, and made a knot in his handkerchief. I remember he was still picking woodlice out of his robes at the closing ceremonies.

by Robbie Fischer, concepts contributed by: “Angelbot,” B* and Katya S. The Marathon,” Spanky continued after a dramatic pause, “is the one event in which Shmedly and I didn’t face each other. But make...

“The Marathon,” Spanky continued after a dramatic pause, “is the one event in which Shmedly and I didn’t face each other. But make no mistake: this was part of his overall strategy. The Romanian team got themselves eliminated in the qualifying round (something about Lobster transfiguring himself into a shield so that Quadrille could fend off spells), which is such a blatant and elementary rule-violation that they had to be tryingto get kicked out.

There are seven Owlympic dueling events,” narrated the cloaked and hooded narrator, as his three listeners–one veiled, two covered by invisibility cloaks–drank their drinks and listened. Sparks danced in the smoke haze that hung over their goblets of firewhisky. The distant cheers and applause from a nearby fire-breathing cockfight helped them imagine a cheering crowd of spectators from all the countries of the world, spectating at the wizarding games.

Spanky found Sadie at dusk, standing in the street outside the Hog’s Head, ringing a handbell loudly and already wearing her broom-veil. Enough of the veil was pushed aside by the pipe clenched in Sadie’s teeth that Spanky could glimpse the forest of pale stubble on the witch’s chin. Between every series of four or five rings, Sadie bellowed in a hoarse, coarse voice:

“As Joe Albuquerque’’s killing curse echoed down the corridor,” Spanky continued as his audience hung on every word, “something large and heavy crashed to the floor behind us. Ms. Noir and I spun around. It must have been almost on top of us when Joe stopped it. It was an acromantula, big enough to eat me for dinner and Ms. Noir for dessert.

‘What is your relationship with Joe Albuquerque?’ I asked her. My flesh crawled with dread as I waited for Bette Noir to answer.

“’I met him in Egypt,’ she replied, leading me out of the vault and up a great, curving staircase. ‘He was disguised as a Pakistani carpet trader. I was in the identity of a film actress–