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, who had been smiling all round, gasped. ‘Is that a dragon?’ Incredibly, he hadn’t noticed the large blue shape on the ground till then.
‘Cloud dragon,’ said Feathering from the bank. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
Willow ran a hand through her hair as she explained the situation to Holloway. ‘I’m afraid, Holloway, that I need a rather large favour actually.’ She explained about the mimic plant, and how they would need to cross the Mists of Mitlaire and travel to Netherfell.
‘Great Starfell!’ he gasped, turning pale.
‘Um, maybe we could use your boat – um, if you could give me a few pointers on how to sail it? You don’t have to come … but I really do need to rescue my friend. His life depends on it. I’m sorry – it’s a huge thing to ask.’
‘Ah, lass, Sudsfarer will only sail for me. And look – the way I see it, being stuck in a tower for a year was huge. Helping the young witch who broke me out? That’s a small price to pay,’ he said. Then he paused. ‘Well … apart from—’
‘The fing about losing yer soul,’ supplied Oswin with a nod. ‘Apparentlies, the boy can helps wiff that.’
Holloway looked from Oswin to Sprig, who nodded and explained about his ability and why it was important that he was on board as they went through the Mists.
‘Er, okay,’ said the wizard.
Sprig nodded. ‘I’ll fly in front of the boat for now. Follow me, and wait for me as we enter the Mists, so I can land on the boat. The metal should help to conduct my magic to a wide area, but I’ll need to be on board.’
Feathering waded into the river, then climbed aboard the bath-boat, making it sway wildly.
‘Great Starfell,’ said Holloway, staggering backwards. The boat seemed to groan slightly under the new weight as the dragon made himself a perch that was half on, half off the side of the boat.
‘I didn’t realise we’d be taking … um … you,’ said the wizard, looking at the enormous dragon occupying most of the boat.
The dragon looked at Holloway and said, ‘My apologies for this frankly undignified moment, but unfortunately I have been told that I cannot fly across, and I’d very much like to go to ensure the safety of my friends.’ Then he looked down at the boat, which had sunk quite considerably in the water. ‘Unless,’ he sighed, looking at it doubtfully, ‘it won’t be able to carry me.’
Holloway, it must be said, was the sort of sailor made of sterner stuff, because all at once he straightened and said, ‘Dragon, we’d be delighted to have ya on board.’ Then he muttered that a little firepower was not a bad thing, and something about strengthening the joints, as he took off a glove. He closed his eyes and touched the boat. ‘Buck up there, Sudsfarer! Think strong … Think of the stories we’ll be able to tell as a dragon barge!’ And the boat seemed to rise a little out of the water, the copper gleaming that bit brighter. Willow could even have sworn that it somehow grew a little bigger.
Sprig watched them, then said, ‘Follow me.’ With that, he changed into a raven, flew up into the sky and beat his wings as he made his way towards the Mists.
Holloway nodded, taking the wheel. ‘You heard him, Sudsfarer. All the way to …’ He hesitated, swallowed and whispered, ‘The Mists of Mitlaire.’
And, despite the heavy weight of the dragon on board, the boat began to cut through the water in fast pursuit of the raven’s blue-tinged wings.
20
Netherfell
They sailed all day, and it was several hours into the evening when they spotted the Mists.
‘Oh no, oh, me aunt Osbertrude, me eyeballs don’ works,’ breathed Oswin from within the hairy bag.
The Mists were like a living, breathing thing that swirled across their faces in wet, finger-like tendrils, so cold they seemed to cut to the bone.
There was a bump, and Essential screamed, but it was only Sprig landing on top of the weathervane.
The further they went, the denser and thicker the Mists became, the air colder and cloudier. The stumpy bath-boat legs plodded slowly through the shallow stream like an animal wading in mud.
‘Steady there, boat, keep going,’ called Holloway as the Sudsfarer inched forward.
‘Doesn’t it ever clear?’ asked Willow, eyes straining against the endless white horizon.