Untitled Starfell #2 (Starfell #2) - Dominique Valente Page 0,44

turning dark, suspicious. ‘This is what I feared when I met you. That you would take her there …’

‘I know,’ said Sprig, ‘but if I did she’d be safe with me.’

The dragon snorted. ‘So long as you didn’t leave.’

Sprig nodded. It was true.

Willow swallowed. That was scary.

Sprig looked at them. ‘We have other things to worry about, though. Like how we’re all going to get there. I can spread my magic, but we can’t all fly on Feathering, not without risking his life.’

‘What? Why?’ cried Willow.

‘The Mists are tricky. They are designed to make the traveller weary, and the bigger the beast the worse the effects will feel and the longer it will take to cross. In the Mists, the smaller you are, the quicker you pass. It could take days for Feathering, and exhaust him to the point that he wouldn’t be able to make the journey back.’

‘Oh no!’ cried Essential.

‘How will we manage then?’ asked Willow. ‘On foot, so long as we form a chain and keep hold of you?’

‘I think that would be incredibly risky. You’d all be exhausted too – I mean, you aren’t Feathering’s size, but you’re not as small as me when I’m a raven. Besides, we can’t walk across the lake.’

They all shared a worried look. Once you were through the Mists, you reached the Lake of the Undead, the gateway to Netherfell.

Willow blinked. ‘So travelling on a large creature won’t work. But what if the thing that carries you isn’t alive … like, say, a boat? Is there a waterway through the Mists?’

‘Yes, there’s a stream that runs all the way to the lake,’ said Sprig. ‘I think a boat would work.’

‘But Willow, how are we going to find a boat?’ asked Essential.

Willow grinned at her, and reached into her pocket. Inside it was the small copper harmonica that Holloway had given her in case she ever needed him. She touched it and said, ‘Don’t worry – it’ll find us. Looks like we’re going to have to head towards the river, so that I can call on a wizard-sailor friend I made.’ Willow pulled out the harmonica, and it gave a soft little hoot.

They flew towards the Knotweed River on Feathering and set up camp along a dry, sandy bank. There Willow blew on the harmonica that was linked to the Sudsfarer.

‘It’ll take a few hours for him to come through, I imagine,’ said Sprig. ‘We should get some rest. There’s a lot we will have to face. Trust me, you’ll need it.’

‘That’s true,’ said Feathering, who curled up along the riverbank. There were already snores from within the hairy green bag.

Willow couldn’t sleep, though. She sat and waited, worrying about Sometimes, worrying about the state of her magic, and how she would actually get him back from the fearsome ruler of the underworld.

When dawn arrived, there were dark patches beneath Willow’s eyes. She turned in surprise at the sound of a distant foghorn. She was cold and stiff from sitting on the ground, but she stood up fast.

‘W-w-whaat’s that?’ asked Essential, yawning and stretching before she stood up to look.

Willow beamed. ‘It’s Holloway!’

The Sudsfarer was making its way up the river in the dawn light. There was the sound of marsh birds and the sky was a pinky gold that glinted off the copper bath-boat.

‘That’s a boat?’ asked Essential, blinking as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. It was reflected in her large lenses.

‘Looks like a washtub!’ exclaimed Feathering, darting Willow a surprised look.

Willow grinned. ‘Well, I think it was … once. Wait till you see the feet – they move!’

‘So we’re going to the most dangerous place in the world in a bathtub?’ Essential asked, snorting.

‘Um. Yes,’ said Willow, who couldn’t stop a nervous giggle from escaping too.

Holloway, who had seen them through his copper spyglass, called out, ‘Ahoy there!’ And then, dropping anchor near the bank, he lowered a set of steps that they could use to climb aboard. Unavoidably, though, they had to wade through cold water to get there.

‘Holloway! Hello!’ Willow called, then climbed up, the carpetbag tucked beneath one arm. Holloway reached out to take the bag before pulling her into a large bear hug.

‘Hello to you too, lass! Came as soon as we got the call,’ he said, tapping the side of the boat with a gloved hand, his sea-green eye shining.

‘Thanks!’ she said.

Essential and Sprig followed after her, and he greeted them.

‘This is Essential Jones,’ Willow said. ‘And over there is Feathering.’

Holloway,