figure. There were dark holes where her eyes should have been and on her head was a crown made of bones.
‘She’s ’orrid,’ said Oswin, looking at it and shivering. ‘The stories!’
Willow agreed. They were dreadful. All good ghost stories began with the Queen of the Undead. Still, it didn’t stop them trying their best to get her card as they began to play.
Later in the evening, after their fourth round of Witchstyx, Holloway sighed as he sat back in his armchair. He crossed his wooden leg over the other, then grimaced as he fiddled with it.
‘Is it hurting you?’
‘Some,’ he admitted. ‘’Tis not the same as the one I had made in Lael. Elves, ya know? They know how to make things that work. Fitted me skin like a glove, moved when I moved. This just chafes something rotten. Do ya mind?’ He looked at the leg and then at her.
It took Willow a while to realise he was asking her if she would mind if he took the artificial leg off – and she realised that he’d been keeping it on this whole time, despite his discomfort, for her benefit. She felt terrible. ‘Oh, Holloway, please take it off – you don’t have to wear it for me! Is there anything I can do?’
The wizard sighed in relief as he popped it off and gave the skin beneath it a rub. It looked red and painful. ‘Thanks. Not really, though, not unless ya can find me old one! Lost it to that darned sea serpent. Life of a sailor, always doing battle with something – be it sea or sea monster.’ He gave her a good-natured wink.
Willow bit her lip. He did say that it was lost.
Then, before she could even raise her hand to the sky to try and find it, a great cascade of water fell from above and something solid landed with a thunk on the floor.
‘WHAT IN WOL’S NAME? Is that mine?’ exclaimed Holloway, looking down at the wooden leg. It had a few bite marks, possibly from the run-in with the sea monster.
Willow blinked in shock. How had she done that without even thinking?
‘Th-thank you,’ stammered the wizard as he took up the leg. Then he hopped to the kitchen, dodging the great puddle of water where the leg had landed, and started filling up a kettle with water. ‘I’ll just give it a quick rinse before I put it on. Who knows where on Starfell it’s been!’ he said.
He washed the wooden leg tenderly with soap and water, then patted it dry. When he put it on, Willow could see the difference immediately. It fitted like a glove.
He looked at her in amazement. ‘I know things aren’t going according to plan with yer magic, but I can say this for nothing. Despite what you’ve told me about yourself, yer magic is far from ordinary, and I’m grateful as.’
Willow blushed to the roots of her hair at the compliment. But really, as she got up to fetch a mop to clear up the water, she was just relieved, considering the current state of her magic, that she hadn’t somehow made him or the boat disappear instead.
When night-time rolled around, Willow set up a bed on the floor, using the mound of cushions from the armchairs, topped with a large patchwork blanket. Holloway had offered to give her his bunk, but it didn’t seem right to take the old wizard’s bed.
As Oswin made himself comfortable at the foot of the makeshift bed and Willow plumped up one of the cushions, she couldn’t help wondering aloud, ‘But how did I make it happen? Finding his wooden leg, I mean. I didn’t even really try, and when I do it doesn’t seem to work.’
‘Mebbe that wos why it worked. Yew din’t try,’ said Oswin, rolling over to get more comfortable. ‘Yew jes did it.’
Willow sat up fast, her heart thudding in her chest. Was the kobold right? She thought about her friend, Nolin Sometimes, and tried not to think, while she attempted to summon him from the clutches of his kidnappers.
Then …
‘Rats!’ whined Oswin as the mound of cushions disappeared with a loud pop. Then he scowled at her, his fur turning bright orange. ‘DIN’T I JES SAY IT ’APPENS WHEN YEW DON’ TRYS?’
‘Sorry, yes, you did,’ said Willow. She was forced to share the blanket with Oswin, who glared at her in annoyance for five minutes straight before he finally turned to go to sleep, muttering