CHRESTOMANCI'S CASTLE

CHAPTER ONE

PRISONER

Christopher put down the book with a much exaggerated sigh, Gabriel looked up from his work, his eyebrows raised, a frown on his face.

"If that book is boring you Christopher, do those theory questions I set you," he proclaimed with a grave air and a "I know what's best for you and you'll do it," tone, then preceded back to his work with no delay.

Christopher, ignoring this command as he so artfully did, got up and stretched, then flopping on the chair, his long limbs everywhere in his usual manner he picked up the book again and began to attempt to read it further. Five minutes of reading the same sentence and not taking any of it in at all, determined Christopher resolve that he was not in a reading mood.

Christopher, of course had nothing against books, his particular favorite being the Arabian nights, but there were just some times when you cannot possibly read a book because you just have to do something else, and yet there is nothing else to do. You could be reading the most exciting book, or your favorite torn and ripped, and yet you still cannot seem to take in a word, because all you can feel and hear and almost see is that itching and that urgent feeling that you should get up and do something. Christopher sighed heavily again, because the frustrating thing with this is that for the life of you, you cannot just jump around and start running, or whoop, because there are always restrictions such as rain and colds and don't forget guardians, as in Christopher's case.

These certain restrictions also prevent you from doing the particular thing that will satisfy the itch, and make you perfectly content. As if to remind Christopher of these annoying things he suddenly felt the urgent need to sneeze, he waited, dropping the book on the floor and closing his eyes, but it was just a tickle and disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Christopher sniffled instead, grabbing a silk handkerchief from his pocket he whipped his nose, and then sniffed again.

Gabriel looked up and gave him a dirty look, "Oh just a false alarm," Christopher said, waving his hand and with it his red spotted handkerchief, his vague manner which he knew annoyed Gabriel firmly in place, "Nothing to worry about, just particularly annoying."

Gabriel scowled at him, apparently annoyed, "When I ask you about your cold Christopher you may tell me, but as I have not, keep quiet, this is important and I am trying to concentrate," he said in his dry but snappish tone. He turned back to his work and Christopher made a face at him, not caring that it may be considered childish, and taking distinct pleasure in it. He gave a loud sniff, but when Gabriel did not look up, immersed in his work, he turned back to his immediate problem…the itch.

Christopher, having nine lives, well more accurately having had nine lives, was for some unknown reason to him, and complete frustration of his guardian, more attuned to this feeling then most children. Christopher was fourteen, he had grown even more, and didn't seem about to stop, Christopher was also very headstrong, and didn't like taking orders much when he didn't see the point to them, nor did he like doing things like bowing to people he didn't like, on the same principle. When Christopher got that itching feeling he felt that it was absolutely necessary to see to it, and he didn't see the point not to. This would be a very good attitude, if only Christopher could have applied it to his work, as Flavian often pointed out, but Christopher became artfully deaf whenever he said this, so of course he always did his homework at the last minute, see when it comes to homework there are always excuses.

It had taken Christopher many years to perfect his deafness, and he himself considered it a great art, so he used it whenever he could, especially against Gabriel. So maybe Christopher was especially attuned to this feeling of getting up and doing a jig because it would spite Gabriel, but he never really thought about it, and he would have been extremely smug if he realized that maybe this was another art to add to his many other talents such as vagueness and eccentricity.

As Christopher was lost in thought, immersed in the very odd ideas that sometimes popped into his mind, he noticed the brown streak with a touch of grey, push the door open. There stood Throgmorten, gazing at Christopher reproachfully, he was hungry, and as it was usually Christopher who fed him, the cook often abusing him out of the kitchen, he had come to find Christopher. Christopher, for the first time, had completely forgotten about Throgmorten's meal time. He jerked up suddenly, reminded by the obvious annoyed look on the cats face, and jumped up, knocking an antique vase sitting on the table near his feet.

"Christopher," Gabriel snapped, thoroughly annoyed, he waved his hand and the vase was just suspended in the air. "Can you not, for one day, just sit down quietly for one day and not let your clumsy ways come out."

Christopher, feeling this very injustice, protested. "I just remembered I had to feed Throgmorton," he said, feeling quite hurt at the remark about him being clumsy, he wasn't half as clumsy as Michael, of course he didn't point that particular thing out because Michael was his best friend, along with Millie, and it would be completely disloyal. Michael got into as much trouble as he himself did with Gabriel, so mentioning him would probably remind Gabriel about yesterday, when they had proclaimed they would live in the tree house, as the castle thoroughly mistreated them. Of course it had been Christopher's idea, and when lightening began to strike it was he who had gotten thoroughly wet, as he had to help collect and carry some of the silver cutlery they had brought out with them, back into the castle, which didn't seem so bad after all.

That event had led Christopher to his current predicament, while all the other children, including Michael were taken to the circus that had come to Wolvercotte, by Mordecai and Flavian. Despite the heavy rain, it was well known that the dry spell on the circus top, was extremely well set, and Gabriel had even helped with some of the spells in his younger days, of course he was far too busy now to deal with such trivial things. This, though, had provided permission for the children from Gabriel, beside Christopher, who had a cold. Gabriel instilled that it was too dangerous for him to go out, that young enchanters with no control like Christopher often had sudden bursts of magic when sick, especially colds for some reason, and so they both were forced to spend a very torturous day with each other, as most of the servants had taken leave to go and see the circus. Gabriel demanded that Christopher needed constant supervision, and unlike most, like the castle maids who had taken a liking to Christopher, he disapproved completely of 'molly codling' as he called taking care of a sick child.

If it was not for Miss Rosalie Christopher was sure he would have been given a mountain of questions to do on theory magic, but at least she, Christopher thought with some self satisfaction, recognized a suffering child at the hands of a tyrant when she saw one. As it was Gabriel gave Christopher a choice, if it could be called that, of sitting down and doing some theory homework, or sitting down and reading a book, both to be done quietly.

Despite his inability to use Micheal though, Christopher had something else up his sleeve, which would give him a few spare seconds of peace to work out what to do with the itch and a laugh of course.

"Of course," he said, giving Gabriel one of his vaguest looks yet, "I could just call him here and explain that you won't let me feed him. I don't know how he'll take it…."

He trailed off, enjoying Gabriel's face which had paled considerably, Throgmorten seemed to take distinct pleasure in scratching him, and sometimes forced Gabriel to stay in his office for hours until he demanded Christopher lock him up somewhere or he'd give him away. Christopher had denied completely the allegations that he purposefully told Throgmorten to wait outside Gabriel's door, after all you never told Throgmorten anything, you always asked him. Though Millie had taken Gabriel very seriously and put an avoidance spell on Throgmorten. Christopher pointed out that this was also breaking one of Gabriel's rules, using magic without supervision, but he didn't take it off Throgmorten. After all Gabriel may yell at Millie, but he would not give her away, Christopher was sure of that, and he also loved the ugly bossy cat, no matter what anyone said.

"Go straight down to the kitchen," Gabriel finally snapped, "And come straight back." He waved his hand and what Christopher hoped would happen did. He had now taken off the restriction spell he had placed on the door to keep Christopher in, to insure he wouldn't sneak off.

"No really, I can call him here if you want," Christopher said, thoroughly enjoying himself and in no hurry, "Throgmorten," he called.

Throgmorten looking highly affronted gave a loud WONG, which was not what Christopher had expected, he quickly sprang from his chair and ran out the door, Throgmorten at his heels as there came a loud crash from behind them. Christopher laughed as he quickly slipped down the banister, Gabriel had forgotten all about the vase and had gotten such a shock from Throgmorten he had lost his forgotten hold on it. Christopher was finally free, at least until Gabriel decided to chase after him, and by that time Christopher was resolved he would take care of the itch, but first he would take care of lunch.

This is my first Chrestomanci fic, hope you enjoyed, please review : p

Sairra : P