I’d do myself … that’s the secret to being a good witch. Always be a step ahead if you can. Practical makes perfect.’
Willow frowned. ‘I thought it was practice?’
Moreg scoffed. ‘That’s just for people who like to waste time. Who needs to practise something when they can be prepared the first time around?’ she said, tapping her cloak.
That seemed true enough.
A small, rather grumpy voice from within Willow’s hairy bag mumbled, ‘An’ oo ’elps ’er to lose fings so she can find it? Jes like a witch to take all the credit. Din’t she say jes the other day that she wished she could lose her fisher’s net … sayin’ that it would be a bit more featrical when the time came for her to find people’s lost thingamababies she could summons it and ketch it? So din’t I frow it into Lost Man’s Lake where fings disappear never ter be seen again … Not that she cares. Oh no! Stick me in a bag made of ’air, only the last kobold and all … not like I wanted any of the stew, nohow.’
A loud silence followed this. Moreg looked at Willow. Willow looked at Moreg.
Then. ‘What was that?’ asked the witch.
‘That,’ sighed Willow, ‘was nothing …’
The witch raised a brow and Willow hastened to add, ‘That you would care to know about. Trust me.’
Witches for the most part aren’t stupid, so Moreg didn’t press it. But she did say rather loudly, ‘A witch’s business is none but her own. However, my cellar and pantry are off bounds … not unless a kobold wants to be turned into a full tabby cat.’
There was a distinctive gasp from within the bag. Willow snorted.
After helping Moreg do the dishes (Moreg, of course, had hot water and a tin basin ready), Willow climbed into her camp bed, and even though it was her first night away from the cottage in her whole life she fell instantly asleep, despite Oswin’s grumblings. ‘Why she ’ave to take it that far? Turn me into a common cat! Jes because I’s a monster don’ mean I don’ ’ave feelings … sniff.’
5
The Broom-makers
The next morning, after they’d packed up their sleeping bags, and Willow had attempted to brush her teeth with her finger, they came across a rather unwelcome sight. Standing with their backs to Willow and Moreg by a clump of tall trees were a large gaggle of around twenty men wearing distinctive brown and gold robes.
Moreg held up a hand, just as a faint ‘Oh no’ came from within Willow’s carpetbag.
‘Brothers of Wol,’ she said softly. Her face turned to marble, like she was annoyed, then gestured for Willow to go back the way she’d come.
Willow gave a silent gasp. The Brothers of Wol still had a rather archaic view of witches – mostly that they thought the best way to deal with them was by burning them at the stake. The Brothers lived in Wolkana – a hidden fortress that no magical being could find, let alone enter. And when they weren’t there, plotting and scheming, you could guarantee they were out causing trouble for people with magic in their veins. Such as trying to ensure that no witches or wizards entered Forbidden areas. These were towns and cities that had decided that they would prefer not to have magical residents on their doorstep.
When magic had at first begun to trickle back into the world, families like Willow’s and Moreg’s had been forced to live in enclosed settlements like Ditchwater. Gradually things had changed; as magical people grew in number, a compromise was needed. Magical people agreed not to use their abilities on people without their permission, as well as to only live in areas where they were welcome.
Some moved away to more accepting pockets of Starfell over the years, but they never forgot the shadow of persecution, which was why some witches and wizards – like Moreg Vaine, for instance – kept the location of their home a firm secret, vowing never to have to answer to anyone ever again.
‘We could fight them,’ said Moreg, who appeared for a moment to consider it. ‘I could get rid of them now …’
Willow swallowed, hoping the witch didn’t mean what she thought she meant. She was finding the nerve to ask when Moreg shook her head, her eyes going hazy for a second, before she blinked. ‘But not quite yet, no … She’ll need it, so this is best, yes.’
Willow stared blankly at Moreg. ‘Er, sorry?’
Moreg