The Improbable Voyage of the Poof! Academy: A Novel: The Poof Academy, #3

By Callie Raab

The little witches and wizard of the Poof! Academy are aghast when their schoolhouse takes flight, supposing that they've botched yet another spell. Little do they imagine that they've been summoned by powers unknown to them and that hair-raising adventures in fantastical realms lie in store.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Callie Raab
• Release date: May 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781943527052

Callie Raab

I was born in Minnesota and spent my childhood in the Twin Cities. Especially vivid are my memories of winter—of snowball fights and ice skating on a frozen tennis court and sledding down the steep slope of College Park. When my parents divorced, my mom, brother, and I moved to sunny California, where I went to high school and college, then taught at Seven Hills School. It had once been a ranch, so my first classroom was in a converted barn. We had cats and chickens and a peacock underfoot—and cows in our backyard. I loved making board and card games for my students to teach them numbers and letters. One day I was in a store, buying books for my class, and I read Where the Wild Things Are. That was the moment I knew I wanted to write and illustrate children’s books. But later, when I tried to make up a story, my mind went blank. From this experience, I learned an important lesson about believing in yourself. I didn’t know that, in my future, I would have a goddaughter named Arielle and a godson named Michael who would inspire me to write over seventy-five stories! I also learned a lesson about working hard at what you love, because, though eventually, the stories came easily to me, it took me time to polish them, as well as lots of practice to become an illustrator. I hope you too will discover what it is you most want to do—and won’t give up until you have!

Book preview

In the long-ago time of the Poof! Academy, the woods were so full of magic you never knew quite what to expect next. A cloud might settle just above you and snow on you in the middle of a heat wave, or a breeze might blow off your hat, play with it a while, then plop it back on your head. Such things happened every day. You never knew, either, whether the creature creeping or streaking past you in the forest or soaring overhead was what it appeared to be—or something bewitched.

So it didn’t strike Heppy and Zelly as odd that the stream they followed to school changed course every now and then—that most of the time it wound in its usual way through the forest, but every once in a while, however briefly, it wandered off in a new one.

One morning when the two were walking to school together, they realized that the stream was taking an unfamiliar route. They were about to turn back when, in the distance, they spotted a clearing with an odd heap in the middle of it. A sunbeam lit it up so brightly they just had to take a closer look. As usual, they were already tardy, so they figured it wouldn’t make much difference if they were even later to school.

What they found was a big pile of branches and, concealed beneath it, an upside-down boat. Now, as everyone knows, little witches have a mischievous streak, and these two were no exception. Eagerly, they tried to overturn the heavy boat, which took a lot more effort than they expected. A little inspection revealed it wasn’t the most ideal boat either. It had a hole in the bottom where a knot in the wood had fallen out and only one seat. Still, they went ahead and pushed it into the stream. Luckily, the hole was stuffed with enough leaves that it didn’t leak too badly, and the seat was wide enough for them to squeeze onto side by side.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Didn’t anyone teach these little witches it’s wrong to steal? We’ll bring it right back, so it’s no big deal, Heppy reasoned out loud. So you see, they were just borrowing it.

They’d heard it said that whatever direction the stream wound off in, if you followed it long enough it would carry you back to where you started from. Excitedly, they set off to find out if this was true. They didn’t expect the stream to weave in and out of the reeds the way it did, though. It doubled back so often that they began to wonder if they were making any progress towards anywhere. In the meantime the water swirled and bubbled, making the boat bob and twirl so much that Zelly began to feel queasy. Steady as she goes! she kept repeating, but the boat continued to bounce and spin.

Unsteady as she goes! Heppy kept teasing, until Zelly cried, Heppy, don’t be beastly! Finally she’d had enough. "We are going to be so late for school, she fretted. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to head back."

Oh, please, pleaded Heppy, just a little farther…after we reach the next bend. Let’s just see what’s around the corner.

When they rounded the bend, however, the boat came to a sudden standstill. In fact, everything came to a standstill. No breeze blew, not so much as a whisper. No leaf stirred on any tree; no wildflowers swayed on the banks of the stream. And strangest of all, the water wasn’t moving. I don’t mean to say it was smooth and calm—no, they could still see choppy waves and whirlpools—it was just that the motion of the water was stopped, as if it were frozen in time. They saw a turtle in mid-dive into the water from a rock and overhead an eagle hanging suspended in the air.

Wow! breathed Zelly. Is this for real, or are we dreaming?

Let’s find out! cried Heppy.

Well, there was no need to beach the boat; it wasn’t going anywhere. Beat you to the shore! Heppy shouted, scrambling out onto a steppingstone, then leaping from stone to stone until she reached the bank of the stream. Zelly followed, tottering because she was still a bit dizzy from their recent ordeal.

The first thing they spotted was a fox, stopped in the act of scratching its ear. When they petted it, it didn’t so much as blink an eye, but its back felt warm to the touch.

Is it alive? Zelly asked, mystified.

It appears to be, answered Heppy.

Next they saw a beaver. The tree it had been chewing on was leaning so far over it appeared to be falling—and would have been if it had been moving at all.

They saw rabbits and squirrels and birds, all paused in the middle of something they were doing, even a crow with a worm in its beak that was still half-stuck in the ground. Of course, they had to pet every one of them—those they could reach, at least. This was quite thrilling for the two little witches, who had hardly ever seen any woodland creatures up close. Why? Because the creatures knew about little witches and their mischievous streaks and always steered clear of them.

After they had petted all the animals they came across, including a low-flying red owl, Heppy suggested they have a bite to eat. They filled their peaked hats with all the sloproot and other edible weeds they found along the muddy bank and had a feast. Now, Heppy had a weakness for skunkberries and happened to have a few in her pocket as a treat. (Actually, she liked them even better than snap pea cookies dunked in peach pit tea.) When she offered some to her friend, who was one of those rare witches who didn’t fancy the odor of skunks, Zelly tried the berries a little squeamishly but decided they weren’t so bad after all.

Well, little witches aren’t neat eaters, and soon they had green sloproot sap all over their faces. At least they wiped their mouths from time to time with their greasy hair, which they considered good manners if you didn’t have your cloak handy.

After finishing her meal, Heppy sighed, I really hate to leave, but I guess we should head back.

As they stood up, however, Heppy spotted a weasel, crouched down under a bush as though it were sneaking up on something. When they got a little closer, they saw it was about to pounce on a tiny mouse. So what did Heppy do? She gently picked up the mouse and carried it over to its hole by the stream, where she set it down.

Why did you do that? asked Zelly.

Because I just realized something, said Heppy. "Everything around us is moving, just much, much slower than we’re used to. Now the mouse will reach its hole before the weasel can catch it."

Huh? said Zelly. I don’t get it.

I’m pretty sure we’re in the midst of a Realm Spell, Heppy pronounced sagely.

A Realm Spell? repeated Zelly, who didn’t know as much as Heppy because she hadn’t read as many books.

It’s when a whole area is bewitched, Heppy explained.

Ah, nodded Zelly, realizing then that she had heard of Realm Spells, though she couldn’t remember where or when.

What did Heppy mean, you ask, about everything moving? How could that be? Well, you know how, if you look at a clock, you can’t see the hour hand advancing? At three o’clock it’s pointing at the three, and an hour later, it’s pointing at the four, but you don’t actually see it move? That’s how things were in this strange part of the woods. Everything was slowed down except Heppy and Zelly.

So they pushed their boat back around the bend where the water was still flowing—where the breeze was blowing and the forest creatures fled when they saw them.

Let’s come back tomorrow, whispered Zelly, as though, even at a distance, she feared that if she spoke any louder she would break the Realm Spell.

What if we can’t? said Heppy as they clambered into the boat. What if the stream takes a different route tomorrow? We might never see this place again.

Oh, yeah, sighed Zelly, squeezing in beside Heppy on the narrow seat. Well, at least we got to see it once.

Let’s not tell anyone about our discovery, urged Heppy. Let’s keep it our secret.

So Zelly made the my lips are sealed sign, pressing the back of her ring finger to her lips. (In those days sealing meant dripping a blob of hot wax on a folded letter and pressing it with a signet ring.)

Then each little witch took up an oar to row back the way they’d come, only to realize that, inexplicably, the current had reversed direction. Instead of flowing downhill, it was now flowing uphill. So all they had to do was pull in their oars and let the stream carry them—with a lot of bobbing and spinning—back to their starting point.

And did the little witches get a scolding from their teacher for being so late that morning? No, because their teacher had misplaced her broom and was too arthritic to hobble to school. Besides, they could have spent the whole afternoon in the Realm Spell, and it wouldn’t have amounted to more than a few seconds in normal time.

It was the day of the snail races at the Poof! Academy, and the little witches were brimming with excitement. This was an event they waited for all year.

Now, you probably think of a snail as something quite small and plain. But not in the long-ago time of the Poof! Academy. Snails were much larger then—their shells about the size of a muffin—and every little witch just had to have one. Why would witches want to raise snails as pets? you ask. Well, as you probably know, they love slimy things, and also…snails were among the few forest creatures not fast enough to run away from them.

Besides, the snails of olden days were beautiful in their