Untitled Starfell #2 (Starfell #2) - Dominique Valente Page 0,16

was waiting for something … something she couldn’t exactly deliver. The windows looked on reproachfully.

Willow bit her lip. It was a bit odd that the witch hadn’t actually reappeared yet. When she’d made her family vanish, they’d returned in mere minutes. It had been triple that amount of time already. She blinked as she realised something. The truth was she didn’t really want to find the witch – not just yet. And, now she thought about it, when her family had come back, they’d reappeared in the house rather than next to her, like missing things usually did. Could that have been because she’d needed to keep them at a distance in order to escape? She didn’t know if her wishes had anything to do with the way this misfiring magic worked or not.

‘Um,’ she hedged, clearing her throat slightly, ‘it might take some time, I’m not sure …’ She thought of her coat and nightdress, which had taken a couple of days to reappear. ‘I’ll find her somehow, erm, as soon as I figure out how to actually do that.’

The iron bar that ran along the middle of the door seemed to fold itself together, like someone crossing their arms. Then the door-knocker shaped like a witch’s hat turned itself into a mouth and stuck its tongue out at her.

Willow blinked. ‘Rude! It’s not like you treated me any better, locking me up like that … and anyway I didn’t mean to make her disappear. I was provoked, and—’ Then, catching sight of Holloway’s raised eyebrows and Oswin’s wide eye peeping out of the carpetbag, she blushed. She realised that she was trying to justify herself to a building. Shaking her head at herself, she said, ‘Come on, let’s just get out of here.’ And they set out towards the Howling Woods, towards freedom, at long last.

It was only later that Willow realised with a heavy heart that she’d left behind her broom, Whisper. But it was too late to go back, and besides she was sure that there was no way the tower would give it back if she didn’t give it its witch in return.

7

The Sudsfarer

They walked for close to an hour.

‘If we go this way, it’ll take us to a small tributary of the Knotweed River, where I keep me boat,’ said Holloway.

Willow swallowed. If what Pimpernell said was true, and the witch really did seem to know everything – like Willow’s ability, and the fact she had a kobold in her bag – then Moreg was gone, which meant that Willow was going to have to find Nolin Sometimes some other way. It couldn’t be helped. She figured the best place to start looking was where he’d been taken. Perhaps there was some clue left behind. She might even be able to find a plant that could help fix her magic. Now that she thought of it, if any garden could hold a cure, surely it would be his?

‘I need to get to Wisperia,’ Willow said.

The old wizard’s eye fairly popped out of his skull as he twisted to look at her. ‘Lass, ya don’t want to go there, trust me!’

‘I have to, Holloway. My friend needs me – he’s in danger …’ She swallowed. She hadn’t had that many friends before, and after losing Granny – Willow felt her stomach clench at the thought of her, but tried to push the feeling away – she couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing anyone else. ‘He’s counting on me.’

It meant a lot to her, more than she could say.

The wizard’s eye shone in the morning light, and he nodded. ‘I can take ya up the Knotweed, towards the Cloud Mountains.’

‘Thank you,’ said Willow.

‘No problem. It’s the least I can do as payment for breaking me out. But, if ya come back with leaves for fingers, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.’

Willow gave him a slightly strained smile. It was too late for that anyway, wasn’t it? She only hoped she wouldn’t make her magic worse by going back.

It was past midday when they reached the edge of the thick forest where a river was bordered by reeds and grass. It smelt of salt and marshland.

As they hacked through the bulrushes, they encountered the thick, cloying knotweed that lent the river its name. It was a creeping plant with rather delicate purple flowers shaped like bells.

‘Whatever ya do, don’t listen to the music,’ said Holloway as a tinkly bell chime began to play from the water. ‘It’ll lure ya