hair shining, her dark, tunnel-like eyes seeming to peer into Willow’s very soul. ‘Tell me, child, what do you know of the Long War?’
Willow frowned. It was the worst war in Starfell’s history, one that had almost ended all magic. ‘It began a thousand years ago. The Brothers of Wol tried to convince the world that magic was unnatural – that it wasn’t a gift from the god Wol, but something evil, something that needed to be destroyed. This led to a war, and many magicians died … and for a long time everyone believed that they had succeeded in stamping out all traces of magic.’
‘Go on.’
‘But they hadn’t, not really … because, after many years, magic came back.’
Willow remembered what Granny Flossy had told her, that magic never really dies – it simply waits until we’re ready for it. She looked up at the queen, wondering if she should tell her the rest … about what she and Moreg and the others had found out in the Brothers of Wol’s fortress, Wolkana. Perhaps telling Umbellifer what she knew might help to ensure the release of Sometimes and the others, so Willow continued.
‘During the war, the old magicians gathered together their most powerful spells to try and fight the Brothers. Everyone thought those spells had been lost or destroyed, but we found out they’d been hidden in Wolkana for centuries. The High Master of the Brothers of Wol said it was to protect the world from this powerful magic … but Silas, the Brother who stole the missing day, said that that was a lie. He believed that the real reason the Brothers had kept the spells all those years ago was so they could use them. My friends and I managed to get back the day Silas stole, but we think he still has the Lost Spells …’
The queen’s dark eyes seemed to glitter as she hissed, ‘Oh, he has more than that, child.’
Willow swallowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Thanks to your friend Sometimes, I have now seen a very important memory. A memory that the forgotten teller read when he was inside Wolkana with you and the others. Maybe it’s best if I show you …’
Umbellifer waved her hands, and in the air before them the mist and shadows began to change. They shifted to form a scene in what looked like Wolkana. A short-haired boy in long robes scurried down a long, twisting corridor, glancing behind him furtively as if he were afraid someone was watching …
Willow gasped. He might have been made of Umbellifer’s shadows, but Willow recognised that distinctive walk, that hair. It was Silas.
In the shadowy scene before her, he got to the end of the corridor and took out a key from his robes. He looked over his shoulder once again, then opened the door and rushed inside a small room. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for as he knelt down and lifted a loose floorboard, bringing from under it a small, heavy-looking chest. He opened it and took out a thick book.
Behind him there was a noise, and an old man appeared in the doorway. He was stooped over and using a cane. Oddly, even though the figures were depicted in shadow, Willow could hear them speak, the sound somewhat hollow, like an echo, or a noise from behind walls. ‘What are you doing in this room, boy? You know it’s the private storeroom of the High Master.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, yes – he asked me to bring him the wine for the blessing,’ said the boy, blocking the floorboard and the chest from view.
The old man bent forward as he stared intently at Silas. Then a coughing fit took hold of him and, when he at last recovered, he seemed to think better of pursuing the matter. He made a dismissive sound and said, ‘Well, hurry up. It’s most irregular for him to send someone down here.’
The boy nodded and picked up a bottle from a table. When the old man’s back was turned, Silas slipped the book inside his robes.
‘Out with you, come on,’ said the old man, and Silas followed.
The shadows whirled and the scene changed. Silas was now sitting on a bed in a small cell. He touched the cover of the book. As much as he tried, though, he could not open it. It was tightly shut, as if it had been locked by magic. On the front Willow could see a title that read