Starfell Willow Moss and the Lost Day (Starfell #1) - Dominique Valente Page 0,3

that it had not. Tuesday was still there. Along with the Leightons’ advertisement for apple cider to cure all ailments.

‘But it’s still …?’

Moreg nodded impatiently. ‘It’s there – yes – but look closely.’

Willow looked. Printed on each day of the calendar were fairs, village meetings, harvest schedules, phases of the moon and other events. Each day had at least one item – except Tuesday.

She frowned. ‘But that could mean any—’

‘—thing. Yes. I thought that too. But, still, I can’t shake this feeling that it means something. Something bad.’ Moreg paused before explaining. ‘Do you remember what you did on Tuesday?’

Willow frowned. She closed her eyes and for just a second a big moth-eaten purple hat with a long green feather sticking up jauntily to the side swam before her eyes, with Granny Flossy’s face turning away from her, and for a moment she felt her stomach clench with fear. But then, just as fast as the image had appeared, it was gone, taking the momentary feeling of disquiet along with it.

She thought hard, the way you think about a dream that feels so real when you just wake up but is gone within seconds and is almost impossible to recall. On Monday she helped farmer Lonnis find his lease. Without it he would have lost his rights to grow oranges, but luckily Willow had been dispatched, and all was well with Lonnis Farms now – she’d got a whole bag of oranges for that. Then she’d come home and helped Granny Flossy to repot the grumbling Gertrudes. The sweet purple fruits were used for masking some of the nastier flavours from her potions (it didn’t really work, just like most of Granny’s potions didn’t really work since her accident). On Wednesday she’d gone to the market – helping the housewives of Herm find their misplaced household goods. Thursday, her mother left for the fair, and then it was today …

‘Not really – I can’t seem to remember what I did that day.’

Moreg nodded, then sighed. ‘I was hoping it may be different, but it’s the same with everyone I’ve spoken to – they seem to recall most of what they did this week, but Tuesday is a real blank.’

Willow bit her lip, hesitating. ‘But isn’t that …?’

‘Normal?’ supplied Moreg, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Yes, of course. Most people struggle to remember what they had for dinner the night before. Usually, though, if they put their minds to it, something will come up. But the thing is, when it comes to Tuesday, not a single person I have questioned can remember what happened. Not even me.’

Willow frowned. She had to admit that it was strange. ‘How many people have you asked?’

Moreg gave her an appraising look. ‘All of Hoyp.’

Willow’s eyebrows shot up. That was surprising: an entire village. Okay, a small village that was really more like one long road, but still, that was around fifteen families at least.

Another thought occurred to her. She hesitated, but asked anyway. ‘Why did you say even me?’

A ghost of a smile crossed Moreg’s face. ‘You’re sharp – that’s good. I meant only that it was strange, as it had never happened to me before.’

Willow was taken aback. ‘You’ve never forgotten what you’ve done before?’

‘Never.’

Willow’s eyes popped. She didn’t really know what to do with that information. She felt equal parts awe and dismay at the prospect.

Moreg changed the subject. ‘I believe that you are a finder?’

Willow hesitated; she’d never been called that before. Mentally she cringed. The closest she’d ever come to being called that was when her sister Camille took to calling her ‘Fetch’ for a large portion of her childhood. She’d stopped that now. Mostly.

‘Yes. Well. No. Not exactly. I mean … I find things … things that are lost.’

Moreg said nothing.

Willow filled the silence in a rush. ‘I mean … I could find your keys if you lost them, but I don’t think I could find an entire day … even if it was lost.’

Moreg raised a brow. ‘But you could try, couldn’t you?’

Willow considered. She could. There was nothing stopping her from at least trying. She took a deep, nervous breath, closed her eyes, and raised her arm to the sky, concentrated hard on Tuesday then –

‘STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!’ thundered Moreg, jumping out of her seat so fast she overturned her chair, which hit the flagstone floor with a deafening clatter. Willow gulped, while Moreg watched her lower her arm as if it were a dangerous viper. Clutching her