She blinked. ‘You’d do that?’
He clamped a hand on her shoulder, making her knees buckle slightly. ‘Course I will, lass.’
She grinned. There was a sound from behind, and she turned to find Sprig standing there. ‘Thanks for bringing me Whisper.’
‘Maybe we’ll see each other again,’ said Sprig.
‘That would be nice,’ she replied, her ears reddening slightly. Then she climbed on to the broomstick, placing the carpetbag at the end, and launched herself up into the air.
The sounds of Oswin’s panicked cries of, ‘Oh nOoo, NOT this blooming feathered flying sticks again!’ grew in volume as they made their way towards the burgundy dawn sky.
11
Oh, Brother
As Willow flew, she saw a raven circle overhead. It gave a haunting cry, as if it were saying a last goodbye, and then it was gone, faster than she could blink.
Holloway had given her a rough map so that she could find her way to Wisperia. She squinted at the tiny scrawled diagram with the wizard’s rather illegible writing, and the broom jerked around wildly, making Oswin’s cries get even louder – if that were possible.
‘Oh NOOOO!’
‘Sorry, Os,’ she said, quickly shoving the map back into her pocket and steadying the broom. They were heading the right way at least.
They flew for over an hour until there was a sudden rumble of thunder, followed by the light tickle of rain that soon turned into a heavy downpour. Willow huddled against the broomstick. The wind was icy and blowing hard, and water dripped down her nose, making it increasingly difficult to see.
When the water started creeping down her neck, making her shiver uncontrollably, she shook her head. ‘I’m g-g-going t-t-o have to l-l-and.’
‘Proberbelly,’ was Oswin’s reply from within the dry carpetbag.
Teeth chattering, Willow pointed her broomstick down towards a town near the winding river.
She landed just outside the town walls under an increasingly heavy downpour of rain, her hair clinging to her face in long, wet hanks. She climbed off Whisper with some difficulty, her hands frozen and claw-like from their grip.
‘We’ll t-t-try and find somewhere warm and d-dry,’ she said with a shiver as she hunched against the rain.
In her hands, the carpetbag began to shake, and there was the familiar sound of Oswin’s panicked wailings. ‘Oh nooooo! Oh, me greedy aunt! Oh, Osbertrude, why’d yew ’ave ter curse us kobolds?’
Willow could understand his distress, as up ahead a band of men in familiar long brown-and-gold robes began to race towards her. The Brothers of Wol.
Willow’s heart stuttered in her chest. She hadn’t had a run-in with the Brothers since she had infiltrated their fortress, Wolkana, to get back the missing day.
One of them pointed and shouted, ‘Witch! Attempting to enter a Forbidden area! Seize her!’
Willow didn’t have time to think. She jumped back on Whisper and hurtled away, dodging an arrow that missed her by inches.
She swallowed, barely able to see in the stinging rain. Forbidden areas were enforced by the Brothers. Parts of Starfell were off limits to magical people, as part of the treaty that was meant to keep the peace between magical and non-magical folk. However, it only seemed to be making things worse.
Another arrow shot past her, grazing her cheek. ‘Oh no!’ cried Oswin.
Willow gulped as more and more arrows rained down on her. She couldn’t see properly in the gloom, and she was forced to veer to the left as a tree branch nearly whacked her over the head. At that moment, a strange, haunting cry pierced the gloom. She cried out as a raven with a smoky blue-black wing flew in front of her.
There was a low gasp from within the bag. ‘OH NO, OH NOOOOOOOOO … OH, ME GREEDY AUNT, A CURSE UPON YEH! I’M GONNA DIE AND ME LAST MEAL WILL ’AVE BEEN ’ORRID FRIED FISH! ’TIS NOT HOW A KOBOLD DESERVES TER GO!’
Willow’s heart thundered in her ears as Sprig chased her to the right, just in time to avoid an arrow that had been heading straight for her.
‘Sprig!’ she shouted as she watched the raven swoop down. Had he been hit?
She pointed her broom to follow him, her heart in her throat.
The wind was a mighty beast, and before she knew it they had crash-landed into a large, muddy patch, the carpetbag rolling off with a thud. She jumped up to find Sprig, but she couldn’t see anything much in the gloom. ‘Dear Wol! Sprig? Are you all right? Please, please be all right!’
She heard a rustling noise and the sound of a low moan. Then, ‘I’m okay. It only grazed me. Just winded.’
Willow felt her knees give out.
There was a huff from within the carpetbag. ‘I’s fine too, fanks fer asking.’
The boy gave a chuckle and Willow couldn’t help grinning despite everything.
The kobold peered out of the carpetbag as the rain eased. ‘Did you follow us?’ he demanded, his lamp-like eyes narrowing.
Sprig turned to look at Oswin and his face coloured slightly. ‘Um, yes … I thought, I dunno, maybe I could help. I felt like I should have offered on the boat. I mean …’ He cleared his throat, then glanced up at Willow. ‘It’s not every day someone says they’re heading to Wisperia. I just felt – I don’t know – responsible somehow.’
Willow shook her head. ‘Why? I was always going to go. You bringing me Whisper just makes it a bit easier.’
He looked at her with his solemn black eyes. ‘Nothing about Wisperia is easy. Besides, I felt bad that the witch left you to go after your friend alone.’
Despite how cold Willow was, she felt something warm creep inside her. ‘Thank you.’
He gave her a small, shy smile.
Oswin crossed his arms, muttering darkly to himself that it seemed a bit odd that he wanted to come …
Willow decided to ignore him as she picked up the carpetbag. ‘Will you be all right to fly?’ she asked Sprig.
In answer, his body shuddered and he transformed back into a raven, flying to perch on the back of her broom.
Willow peered up at the sky and saw the gloom was clearing, and there was no further sign of arrows.
As the sun rose higher, they flew up towards its warmth. She managed to dry out somewhat as they made their way past winding rivers, and the floating Cloud Mountains, towards the most dangerous and beautiful forest Willow had ever known.
Wisperia.
12
The Iris Inside the Jar
Wisperia was even more magnificent than Willow remembered. Impossibly vast, the multicoloured forest stretched for miles, as far as the eye could see.
Perhaps it was seeing it from her broomstick, and therefore going more slowly than she had been when she first saw the forest from the back of Feathering, but Willow felt like she could take in more this time than she had in between the rapid wingbeats of the dragon.
There were strange birds with translucent wings that appeared to have been created out of bright turquoise and cerise watercolour ink. There were wind monkeys with white fur and orange spots down their backs, and purple deer with blue tails. Trees grew in every colour imaginable, with electric leaves of pink and blue and purple.
In the canopy, dotted here and there,Willow spotted small communities that wound round the vast trees.