‘If the witch sent yew the broom, mebbe it means she’s working on getting the forgotten teller back too,’ said Oswin.
Willow nodded. That was true. She bit her nail, wishing the boy would just wake up so she could ask him if that were true, if the witch had some kind of plan for rescuing Nolin Sometimes.
‘C’mon, lass. Nothing to be done right now – might as well have some dinner,’ added Holloway.
The boy woke at last to the scent of fish frying in the small kitchen. The wizard had speared a ferntail, which was large enough to feed everyone comfortably.
The boy ran a hand nervously through his dark, messy hair as he found them all sitting just outside the bedroom. Willow had been playing a round of Witchstyx with Oswin, trying to distract herself from her impatience, but when he reappeared she stood up so fast that she made her chair wobble.
The boy didn’t notice. He just looked round and said, ‘This is some boat.’
‘Thanks,’ said Holloway.
‘I’m Sprig,’ said the boy. ‘I didn’t introduce myself properly earlier, sorry.’
‘You were tired,’ said Holloway. There were still deep circles beneath the boy’s dark eyes.
Barely containing her impatience, Willow tried to be polite. ‘This is Oswin, and Holloway,’ she said quickly, indicating the old wizard with his long grey hair and glass eye, who waved a spatula at Sprig in greeting.
Sprig smiled. He seemed to find the sight of Oswin the most diverting, and couldn’t help staring. The kobold looked up from matching a cauldron card with one of Willow’s, his green fur turning ever so slightly orange at the edges, and said, ‘Wot?’
‘I’ve just never seen a ca—’ He broke off at Willow and Holloway’s violent head-shaking.
Willow mouthed, ‘Don’t call him a cat!’
The boy’s eyes widened, but he nodded and seemed to hide a grin as he said, ‘I just haven’t seen that game played in a while is all.’
The kobold nodded, his fur going back to green.
Willow cut to the chase. ‘Do you know where Moreg is? I need to speak to her urgently. My friend is missing and I think she might know something about it!’
Sprig’s eyes widened. ‘Oh. I – um, no … She didn’t say anything about that to me. Besides, she’s gone – some Enchancil business. Be away for a while, I gather.’
Willow felt her heart sink down to her toes. The Enchancil was the official body for magical people in Starfell, short for Enchanted Council.
Sprig added, ‘All she told me was that you needed your broom – that it’d help you. She told me it was in a tower and paid me to bring it to you. I’m sorry – that’s all I know.’
Willow’s brows knitted in thought as she considered his words. Not many people knew it, but Moreg Vaine, the most powerful witch in Starfell, was a seer. She saw visions of things before they happened. She must have known that Willow would need her broom, perhaps to find Sometimes … If the witch wasn’t coming, maybe it was because she’d seen Willow finding him? Was that it? She tried to draw courage from this.
‘Right. Well, in that case, I think I should head off to Wisperia straight away,’ she said, going over to get the carpetbag.
But Holloway came forward and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. ‘It’s late now. No point trying to fly in the dark – you’ll need a clear head to pass through Wisperia, trust me. Have an early start at first light.’
Willow bit her lip. The old wizard’s words made sense, but she still had to fight the impulse to jump on Whisper and fly through the night.
‘You’re telling me,’ said the boy. ‘Wisperia is dangerous enough when you can see where you’re going.’
Willow nodded and took her seat opposite Oswin again.
‘Anyway, food’s ready,’ said Holloway.
Sprig sat on the edge of the kobold’s armchair and, when Holloway offered him a plate of food, he took it gratefully.
Oswin looked up at the boy suspiciously. Generally, people liked to keep a bit clear of kobolds due to the rather persistent smell of boiled cabbage, but Sprig seemed to ignore this. Perhaps ravens didn’t smell that much better.
‘Could you always turn into a raven, or did it develop later?’ asked Holloway.
‘Um, since birth. I’m the only one in my family who can.’
Willow shrugged. ‘My ability only came when I was about six.’
Willow had heard that some people – like Nolin Sometimes’s family – seemed to pass down their abilities to their children, but it wasn’t usual. It only happened with some forms of powerful magic.
‘It was random in mine too,’ she said. ‘We’ve all got different abilities, some more powerful than others.’ She didn’t admit that hers was the least powerful of them all.
‘She finds lost things,’ added Holloway.
Willow shrugged. ‘It’s useful.’
‘I’d say,’ said Holloway, tapping his leg. ‘Been missing this for at least two years now, and just like that – poof – she made it appear!’
She smiled at Holloway, glad at least that she had made the old wizard happy.
For a long time she’d wondered if there was only so much magic to go around, so that by the time her mother had had her last child only the scraps were left. But Willow kept that thought to herself. The truth was it was a useful skill. She was realising that now more than ever, when she couldn’t access it like she used to. Truth be told, she missed her powers. It felt like a part of her was gone, and it made her feel odd.
‘What do you do?’ said Sprig to the wizard, who explained about his acquired ability – turning things to copper – and his old one, which hadn’t been that much fun – his clouded eye.
Sprig grinned. ‘So that’s how this happened,’ he said, looking around at the copper bath-boat. ‘It’s a nice talent. Sorry it came at such a high price.’
‘That’s life, son,’ said the wizard. ‘We all pay a price, one way or another. Choosing to make it worth the price – that’s what makes the difference.’
The boy nodded. ‘Maybe you’re right.’
Willow spent a restless night worrying about Nolin Sometimes and Moreg Vaine. The witch had to have had a reason for sending her Whisper. Willow wished that she’d just sent her a message instead. Did Moreg know who had taken Sometimes? Couldn’t she have given her some idea of what to do?
In the morning, there were deep shadows beneath Willow’s eyes as she prepared to leave.
The old wizard pulled her to one side and gave her a bear hug. ‘I’m going to miss you, young Willow, and you too, Oswin,’ he said, reaching down to pat the kobold’s head, which was currently poking out of the hairy carpetbag.
There was the sound of soft purring, followed by the sound of a throat being cleared. Oswin muttered, ‘Fanks,’ and shot back inside the bag.
The wizard’s lips twitched in amusement. He looked over Willow’s shoulder, checking to see they were alone. Then he pressed something into her hands. It was the harmonica, which gave a soft hoot. Willow stared at it in surprise.
‘I want ya to have this. It’s old magic. It was once a part of the boat – a bit of extra metal I had left over when I made it. But the two are linked, like it’s part of the same body, with one heart, if ya know what I mean?’ Willow didn’t, so he explained further. ‘If ya blow on it, the boat will know, and if ya need me then I’ll come.’