"Never fear, Christopher. You know enough to start, and I feel
reasonably sure that you will be quite able to change back again. If
you get stuck I can help you. Come now," he said, putting out his hand
to touch Chris's shoulder in a reassuring way, "here you go. Remember
Incantation Seventy-three, Book One."
Chris stared at the fishbowl, empty now. He remembered Incantation 73,
Book One, quite well, but his knees began to tremble and he stood as
if paralyzed. Mr. Wicker waited patiently beside him for a few moments
for Chris to get up his courage.
Then as nothing happened, with a voice like a whip Mr. Wicker said:
"Start at once!"
Chris was so startled at his usually gentle master's tone that without
further thought or effort on his part, he began intoning to himself
the words and sounds of Incantation 73, Book One. As he went on,
concentrating on becoming a goldfish in the bowl on the table, he
became aware of a humming sensation in his head. This grew until it
seemed that all his body was filled with the strange new vibration,
tingling from his feet to the crown of his head. The sensation spread,
faster and faster. His head swam and he felt faint and a little sick,
but he persisted through the final words. Somewhere deep inside him
there seemed a sudden lurch, and then a wonderfully cool, liquid
sensation. He felt buoyant and rested and looked about, only to get a
wavery, enlarged glimpse of Mr. Wicker, looking more like a reflection
in a circus mirror than himself. With a light twist of his body Chris
floated over, to see that the room looked the same, and rolling back,
could see that Mr. Wicker was peering in at him from above and smiling
broadly.
[Illustration]
"Good Lord--I'm a fish!" Chris said, and he heard the words muffled as
they came back to him through the water of his bowl. Well, what do you
know? he thought, not without a feeling of pride, and commenced
experimenting with his tail and fins with such enthusiasm and delight
that some little time elapsed before Mr. Wicker's voice boomed close
by.
"Better come back now. Take it slowly, son. Seventy-four, Book One:
The Return."
The same strange sensations flooded Chris as he made the change back
to his own shape, but when he stood once more on his own two feet on
the carpet in Mr. Wicker's study, he was pleased and happy despite his
weakness. Mr. Wicker took hold of his arm and helped him to a chair,
and taking a small vial from the cupboa
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