A Truly British Christmas

Chapter Twelve

"Here we are!" UK exclaimed, grinning and rushing off down one of the aisles. "1689!"

"Finally, my legs are killing me!" North sighed.

"Brit, I've just thought," Wales shuddered, "You haven't had any dreams in a while, have you?"

"Not for the past few nights, no..." UK grimaced, "Can't be a bad thing, though! Anyway, let's get looking! Where are the magic books?"

"How would we know?" North giggled, a little mockingly. "Let's start at this end!"

Nodding, UK and Wales began searching. Most of the books were thick volumes, bound in leather covers and containing yellowed pages, with the exception of a few documents left loose in piles, most of which simply contained deeds to land or census data. The siblings rifled though the shelf, the fluttering of the pages breaking the silence with their reassuring, almost melodic rustle. Still, tension weighed heavily upon the three, none of them daring to break concentration, even by speaking. For hours, they combed the shelves, even resorting to looking two years either side of 1689, as their efforts there were without reward.

"I might've found something!" Wales called across the library. "It was hidden underneath the 1687 shelf! There are notes in English all over it, and I'm sure it's his writing!"

"Does it talk about mind control? Is it definitely magic?" UK asked nervously, watching as her sister flicked through the volume.

"I don't know... It's all in Latin...." Wales groaned.

"Mentis Imperium et Hypnosis, Capitulum XXIV... That looks about right," North grimaced, pointing to the bottom of the contents page.

"Hypnosis, you're right... How do we translate it, though?" Wales asked, trying - and failing - to hide her frustration with the language.

"We could always-"

"Hello! Want some flapjacks?" UN beamed, perching himself of the top of a bookshelf and offering around a plate of still-warm baked goods.

"Cheers, UN," UK grinned, biting into a delicious-smelling flapjack, "And... do you have any paracetamol? I have a bit of a headache..."

"Oh, yes, I do!" UN smiled warmly, pulling two snow-white tablets from his pocket and placing them in Brit's hand. "Good job I brought water, too!" He handed each of the siblings a glass of water, clearly delighted to be able to help them without being called a nuisance. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Could we borrow a translator, please?" Wales smiled innocently, allowing UN to play with her hair, hugging him.

"Oh... I suppose... Be careful with it, though!" Union agreed somewhat uneasily, "May I ask why?"

Nervously, Wales handed him the spellbook as UK once again recited the tale of how they'd ended up in this particularly complex mess. As she explained what she knew of what was happening to her, UN visibly shuddered, nodding and squeezing her shoulder, more for his own reassurance than her's.

"It might be worth talking to the Head of Magic about that, she can translate the text into English for you!"

"You have a Head of Magic...?"

"Of course I do! I'll take you to her office now!"

Once again, the three followed UN up the narrow passageway, this time turning left at the end of the tunnel, leading them into a bright, welcoming corridor with green carpet and crème walls, decorated with various oil paintings and Celtic insignia. At last, they reached a well-polished wooden door. UN knocked sharply on it, which apparently surprised the room's occupant, who tripped over in surprise, judging by the bang and clattering from beyond the door.

About thirty seconds later, the Head of Magic called out (rather shakily), "E-Enter!"

As UN pushed open the door, UK tried to visualise the Head of Magic... An ancient wizard with a snow-white beard, perhaps... Or a young yet wise sorcerer draped in a read cloak... Soon enough, UK found out though; standing face to face with the witch, a small gasp escaped her lips as she stared at the all too familiar woman before her...

"Ireland?"

"Bhreatain? What are you doing here?"

"We need your help..."

"Who's 'we'?"

Awkwardly, UK and UN stepped aside, revealing Wales and North.

"Dia dhiut, Eireann!" Wales smiled, gliding across the room and hugging her third sister. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm alright, Cymru," Ireland grinned. "How've you been? I heard Sesana and Albain are at it again...?"

"Yeah, they are... Still, they've been worse to each other before, I suppose..."

"Um... Anyway..." UK interrupted, "We have a bit of a problem..."

Again, UK explained the bizarre situation, though this time to a - now rather intrigued - Ireland. By now, Wales and North were sick of hearing the events of the past few weeks repeated over and over again, so they just quietly chatted to each other (and prank-called England a few times, pretending to work for Over 50's Life Insurance).

"I always knew your relatives were dodgy!" Ireland shook her head as UK finished.

"They're your relatives too, Ireland..."

"Nah, don't lie 'bout it; I found out your father kidnapped me years ago! That's why I ran away when you were seven, remember!"

"You were kidnapped?!"

"You didn't know?!"

"WE HAVE BIGGER ISSUES, PEOPLE!" North finally yelled, shoving the book open onto Capitulum XXIV into Republic's arms. "Eireann, can you translate this or not?"

"Of course I can!" Ireland replied defensively, scanning the pages she'd been given through the translator and furiously tapping her computer keys. "Here, read this!"

Grinning, UK took a step forward, turning to her sister's laptop.

"I'll read it out, shall I?," she grinned triumphantly, gazing at the first line, now written in perfect English. However, without warning, she stumbled backwards, vision blurring, the world suddenly dimming around her...

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Translations:

Bhreatain [Irish Gaelic]: Britain

Dia dhuit [Irish Gaelic]: Hello

Eireann [Irish Gaelic]: Ireland

Cymru [Welsh]: Wales

Sesana [Irish Gaelic]: England

Albain [Irish Gaelic]: Scotland

I won't translate any of the Latin yet, that'll come later! ;)