The Latest Magic News and the Wax Figure

Have you already forgotten Genka Bulonov, who made Tanya Grotter’s existence a misery when she was living at Uncle Herman’s and going to the same school with Pipa? In the body of the taciturn and sullen Bulonov, outwardly resembling more a barrel with legs or a safe with pedals, dwelled a vulnerable and dreamy soul.

Fairly often, hiding in a corner, Bulonov sat down on a stool, hugged his knees, and began to dream. Dreams appeared like a pink sweet haze before his small, often blinking eyes. Sometimes Bulonov imagined that he would become a space pirate, sometimes the dictator of an entire planet, and sometimes clearly scaled down his little plan and dreamed of nothing but robbing a bank and fleeing in a car from pursuit.

Bulonov began in earnest to prepare for the robbery of a bank and readied himself through the entire fourth grade, but this brilliant project was abolished because of the absence of a pistol and a cap with slits for the eyes. And stilts too. Without stilts the bank guard would assume the rather short Bulonov to be a belligerent dwarf or a raging gnome.

The life of our frustrated mini-Napoleon would flow so in its usual and dull river bed, if once, by chance, he had not seen how Tanya swooped swiftly on her double bass. Then — in the very beginning — Tanya did not yet know that magicians must keep their flights in secret from the moronoids, and did not hide herself much.

The wonder-struck Bulonov began to follow on Tanya’s heels, attempting to guess her secret, and hung around till that very day when she suddenly disappeared and Pipa stated in school that “stupid Grotter had fallen down somewhere, most likely left to gad about the stations. And wonderful that she did, less people — more oxygen.”

But even then Bulonov could not calm down and continued regularly to putter near Tanya’s former entrance, hiding behind either the slide or the dumpster.

Not without reason that they say: “If one suffers for a long time — something will happen.” And here Bulonov got lucky one day.

He had already intended on leaving when the yard-keeper, occupied with cleaning the rubbish chute, flung two black bags into the dumpster. Genka did not pay this any special attention — well, garbage is garbage, but here suddenly an energetic female voice was heard from the outer bag:

“Bad day, my non-dears! I, Nagiana Pripyatskaya, greet you from zoomer screens and on all magic radio waves! Kiss-kiss, my bowlegged old goats and dead poltergeists! The start of the broadcast, as always, is for you! In ether economic magnews. The recession in the world of magic markets continues. European toad warts rose a whole two-and-seven-tenth percentage last week. The exchange rate of overseas green corns continues to fall. The numerous erasures and additions of black magicians and bank goblins having access to the magledgers is mentioned as the main reason for the recession. According to our economic expert Charalampos the Absurd, the financial crisis will in no way affect the exchange rate of domestic bagel holes, which are strong as never before. ‘Our magicians can practice magic quietly! Their holes will stay as holes! ’ Charalampos the Absurd assured us.

“Scandalous magnews. Mandragora Orangeva, who easily became the 1400 Miss Candy Universe, having disappeared for two weeks, was discovered in Egypt, in the not unknown River Nile. As it became known, Orangeva was changed into a crocodile as the result of jealousy experienced by the witch Semiramis, whose husband Orangeva recently took away. Now Madame Semiramis testifies at the office of the magsecutor. Furthermore, it became known to our correspondent that at the catch the running wild Mandragora seriously bit one of the local sorcerers, who much too unceremoniously took it by the tail. At present the sorcerer is going through a course of exorcism from love rabies.

“Cultural magnews. Yesterday morning in the concert cave near the Shaitan Mountain the premier of the ballet Gargoyle Pond, which the well-known mageographer Caesar Javdetov places far beyond the bounds of the Bald Mountain, took place. According to the critics, the first act passed normally and deserved ovations of the assembled. However, already in the second act a mass fight broke out in a scene. The gargoyles could in no way agree on which of them would be the first to kiss the handsome prince, and they started to kick him with their pointes so that he could reach no one. The handsome prince is hospitalized. Furthermore, the floor of the concert cave suffered tremendously from the acidic tears of the gifted dancers. Caesar Javdetov is convinced that the reason for the flop of Gargoyle Pond was an evil eye, cast by malicious enviers. ‘Let them not rejoice. I inherited from my granddad a notebook with outstanding curses, many of which have no deflections! ’ He informed our correspondent Chatterer Chatterskii in an exclusive interview.

“Now magnews of sport! In Tibidox the quarter-final match between Tibidox and the gandharvas has concluded. The match was won by the composite team of Tibidox, throwing the immobilize ball into the mouth of the gandharva dragon. Especially notable in the game was the new forward of Tibidox – Coffinia Cryptova. The star Tatiana Grotter, showing so lustrously in the match with the babai, was likely on the wane. She threw not a single ball, got a serious injury, and was taken away from the field on a stretcher... With you was your Nagiana Pripyatskaya. Kiss-kiss, my dears! Till the evening broadcast of magnews! ”

Everything went silent.

Bulonov’s mouth dropped open in amazement, but in a second he jumped and, rolling his stomach over the edge of the dumpster, began hurriedly to dig in the bag of garbage. Potato peel, rumpled limp sheets of paper, even some other trash flew out. Not paying this any attention, Bulonov rummaged in the garbage exactly like a rat. Soon he already held in his hands two things, charred, somewhat similar to stumps. The sticks vibrated, shone, and occasionally began to mutter in different voices: “Transport division, come in! Which ass loaded my dragon? It took a breath — and all my packs caught fire! Promptly send me a shawl-parachute and safety braces! ” Bulonov hardly touched it and the right stick began to creak unhappily.

Genka began to yell, leaped, and knocked his head against the lid of the dumpster. It began to drone in his ears.

At this moment the shorter left fragment suddenly came alive and asked: “Listen, friend, don’t you remember the spell from the dead men? ”

Bulonov squeaked something fearfully.

“Don’t remember, eh? I also don’t remember! ”

Bulonov scooped air with his mouth.

“Listen, friend! I’m in That World, decided to search for treasure. Understand? Just came down and there’s this wimp. Need help? He says. Well I, fool, didn’t have a good look at who this was and answered... For the fifth hour now he has trailed behind me! Well, shoo from here, red eyes, or I’ll hit the sword hard — there’ll be two less heads! Until new ones grow — you’re worn out! ” The charred rod continued to reason.

Someone began to roar, the stick twitched, and everything went silent.

Genka hiccupped with relief and licked his lips. But he was not left in peace for long.

“ Blockus coachus wagonscrapus

“ Trivialnus aspirinus! ” Unexpectedly the other rod began to sing in a thin voice. Something began to rattle, rolled with the sound of glass and...

“Ah, Fedora, I didn’t want to change you into the lamp! Stop blinking, I’ll now call mom... Mom, she herself is guilty! She touched my ring again! ”

Someone’s rough hand decisively caught Bulonov by an ear. Genka squealed, imagining to himself heaven knows what, but almost immediately discovered that it was nothing but the yard-keeper. He dragged Bulonov out from the dumpster and in clear and simple words ordered him to take off.

Bulonov quickly shoved the talking sticks into his jacket and dived under the arch.

Despite his burning ear and his clothing smelling of all kinds of trash, Genka had not been in such an excellent mood for a long time. Intuition suggested that his life was beginning an extremely interesting period.

And he was not mistaken...

* * *

At home Bulonov examined the fragments for a long time, trying to think what such a thing was at all. He even put both sticks together in the manner they originally were, and put Scotch tape around them. Now the two fragments became a sufficiently long one. But nevertheless — to examine it was complicated. Except that it became noticeable that it very conveniently lay in the hand and once — before it was charred — was covered with varnish.

Genka took a rag, moistened it in the aquarium and cleaned off the cinders. Something dimly flashed. Armed with a magnifier, Bulonov managed to read:

“...5tus’o! g ta^gs’ezSh], ga’osY] — ta^egT. Grotter, 1b50”

“Oho! Grotter! Again Grotter! Well, Tanya! ” Without understanding the intricate family ties, Bulonov exclaimed.

He was so inspired that, having jumped up, he flew past the chair and greeted the carpet with his tailbone. Disappointment! And how could he not guess earlier that this quick-tongued girl with a birthmark like a lump of buckwheat porridge sticking on her nose, always dressed like a scarecrow, a girl, whom Pipa tormented and teachers did not like very much, was a sorceress?

The next time the broken bow glued together by Scotch tape exerted itself was around midnight, when Bulonov had gone to sleep long ago. He slept and had an incredible and captivating dream, as if in front of the entire class he flew on a mop out the window, shattering the glass. All this was so pleasant that throughout the dream Bulonov was squealing enthusiastically and biting his pillow.

Unexpectedly the box in which the bow lay began to tremble and tap on the table. Genka spat out the corner of the pillow case stuffed in his mouth and sat up on the bed with a jerk. A sharp bluish light shone through the slit. Having opened the box, Bulonov discovered that the bow had disappeared and in its place a small woollen ball was rolling impatiently. The ball jumped out from the box and froze in the middle of the room. Bulonov took a step towards it, but the ball, not to be caught, rolled away to the door.

Genka did not like the bow’s transformation into a ball with little prior notice. Fearing that the ball would slip away and the only connection tying him to the mysterious world would be broken, he gripped the pillow and started to chase the ball, attempting to cover it. The ball seemingly also did not slip away, but every time Bulonov for some reason found himself on the floor in an embrace with the pillow. The ball was bouncing quite close, teasing him, as if inviting him to follow it. If inspected closely, it was possible to discern on the ball a small label with the inscription: “Ariadne’s guiding thread (to 12 versts in length). Fortune-teller workshops, City of Ivanov.”

In the end even the not too clever Genka understood that if he did not go after the ball now, it would simply roll away without him. Kicking the pillow as if it was guilty of everything, he hurriedly dived into his pants, put a sweater on his naked body, and shoved his bare feet into his sneakers.

It was worthwhile to open the door as the ball, bouncing purposefully, rolled along the stairs. The never-ending luminous thread was pulled after it. On the street the ball, for a while, absent-mindedly turned on the spot, as if sniffing, and then decisively bounced between the houses. A stumbling Genka hardly kept pace with it. Good though that the golden thread clearly showed the way.

Soon Bulonov was loosing his breath. The sneakers squelched. He was especially irritated that the ball clearly did not examine the road. If there was a puddle on the way, it rolled through the puddle, a fence, it bounced through it, leaving the shining thread.

“Ugh! These magicians are clearly somewhat skewed! Simply stop at nothing! No looking for a gate! ” Genka muttered crossly, when for a second time he had to crawl under the high concrete enclosure around a building.

When Bulonov, worn out, had already intended to flop to the ground on his stomach and catch the thread with both hands, the ball suddenly bounced several times and knocked demandingly on the cover of the sewerage hatch.

Having looked around, the awe-struck Genka understood they had again returned to that arch of the Durnev place on Rublev Road, where he had already been the day before.

“Well, you’re simply some snake! Here are only three stops on the trolley bus — why cut right through all those blocks? ” Bulonov turned reproachfully to the ball.

The ball continued to bounce by the hatch. The golden thread lay down as loops around the cover. Having found an iron rod near the dumpster, Genka returned and after several unsuccessful attempts got the hatch off. The ball immediately jumped inside, pulling the thread.

Bulonov wavered for a while. Finally he made up his mind and also began to climb down. The rungs joyfully shared their rust with him. It continued this way until one rung broke off.

“Ma-a-a-a-a! ” Genka only had time to shout.

And then, not having had time to be frightened until the end, Genka understood that he was sitting on an old dead mattress, which someone had thrown into the hatch. The mattress crunched, taking into its somewhat icky but friendly embrace the roguish sullen person of eleven years.

Bulonov got up. All his bones were intact. His teeth also. The abrasion on his forehead was not taken into account. Genka sighed and, puckering from the smell of the boards growing mouldy, he set off to follow the ball. He turned twice in a low tunnel, following a pipe with the constancy of a pestering admirer, and then Genka found himself suddenly in a small enclosure. The ball was already pinned there, spilling a bluish light.

“Aha! ” Genka thought, not knowing why.

Looking around, he discovered that in the middle of the enclosure, a couple of metres from a warm water pipe, was an altar built of bricks. At its base, under the bricks, lay some mucus-covered crumpled rags, which Genka failed to identify as the sweater of his former classmate.

But then a wax figure, lying on the very top of the brick, he recognized immediately — it was shaped with such skill.

“And here’s Grotter! ” Bulonov sighed.

A thick needle protruded slightly higher than the knee of the right leg of the figure. Heated up by unknown means, the needle was melting the wax, which dripped onto the sweater. It seemed to Bulonov that the figure was puckering from the pain. Or, it was not inconceivable that this was simply a play of the shadows.

Having some doubts, Genka stretched out his hand and took the figure. The warm wax warmed up his palm. Bulonov grabbed the needle and pulled it out. The wax on the edge of the wound instantly sealed up. The figure trembled gratefully.

The guiding ball of the work of the Ivanov fortune-teller workshops bounced and rolled outside again making its way to the icky mattress. Without the ball in the stone the enclosure immediately became dark.

“Hey you, spool of threads, wait! Don’t mess around! ” Genka shouted and, shoving the figure into a pocket, rushed after it.

He was afraid that the ball would get out first and then bolt, but this did not take place. The shining ball patiently waited for him above, by the raised hatch cover. Here it began to twirl swiftly, flared up, and — disappeared. In its place was revealed again the broken bow of the double bass. Bulonov picked it up and, squelching in the sneakers, set out for home.

Genka did not know that hardly had he left the hatch when, in a crack where the pipes went out, something rustled unpleasantly and out came from it a plump essence with a naked pink tail like that of a rat. The thin arms had no elbows and bent in all directions. The upper part of the head with the enormous mouth leaned back as on a hinge.

The essence squeezed itself into the place where the wax figure was lying recently and burst out laughing revoltingly — like slime started to boil rapidly in a teapot.

“H-ha! Cannot h-hinder me, I’ll take vengeance! G-good that the boy took it! The main thing is that Lifeless Griffin will trail where he l-lives! ” It creaked.

The described events took place in the middle of August, exactly when Tanya, on whose leg Yagge unsuccessfully tried to join the break, setting loose under the plaster all new bonegrafts, was quickly on the mend.