Oswin shot out from under the table to glare at her. ‘WOT? Such LIES! Such undeservedable SLEWS against me fine koboldish character! A curse upon yeh … yeh harpy-hag – a CURSE!’
‘Control your monster!’ snapped Camille. ‘Or I’ll send him away!’
Willow felt her temper go from simmer to boil, and she stood up fast. ‘You will NOT touch him. It IS NOT A DELUSION and I haven’t LOST TOUCH WITH REALITY. Oswin WAS there!’
She took a deep, calming breath, which didn’t work, and tried again to get them to see reason. ‘It really happened, you just don’t remember it – but that’s only because you weren’t THERE! Because you didn’t want to help then EITHER!’
Camille gave a derisive snort, flinging her midnight hair back. ‘Oh really, Willow … like we’d not help save the world!’
Juniper made a huffing, dismissive sound too.
Willow sighed. ‘Well, you didn’t because you wouldn’t believe me then either. But that’s not the point. The way you’re all reacting now doesn’t make sense because you’ve seen what happened. You SAW Moreg – she came here after Granny’s funeral. You saw her speak to me and bring me my broom, Whisper, which I only got because I was helping her! How else would I have it? And, before she came, you saw the DRAGONS, so you must know that I’m telling the truth. How else would I have known her, or met a cloud dragon? How else would you explain that?’
There was a long moment when no one spoke.
Then, over the sound of Willow’s thundering heart, her mother let out a deep sigh. ‘Oh, Willow. You probably don’t know this, but Moreg was a family friend. I grew up with her sister, Molsa, you see. Moreg thought very highly of Granny Flossy. As you know, your grandmother was once the best potion-maker in all of Starfell, which is why Moreg came to pay her respects to all of us when she passed. I believe that she brought you your broom as a gift, to take your mind off Granny’s death. I mean, granted, Moreg is not generally known for, erm, spontaneous acts of kindness … but that’s what it was – a kind act to a child at a difficult time. I’m afraid that, with all the shock and upset, you’ve got a bit muddled and turned it into something else … some wild story about saving the world with her, as well as an imaginary friend needing your help, and trees that move and deliver letters … Oh, Wol.’
She gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘Which is DEEPLY worrying for all of us, don’t you see? Because not only do you seem troubled, it’s dangerous to be around you as it’s affected your magic in a rather violent way. We have to get you help, and soon!’
Willow stared at her mother through eyes that were misted by sudden angry tears. There was a lump in her throat, making it hard to speak. She’d never needed Granny Flossy more than she did in that moment. Granny would have made them see, made them hear, somehow. She would probably have known the truth about the trees – she knew things like that, things no one else did – and she would have gone outside to try talking to the oak, even if they all thought that was bonkers. She would have trusted Willow, or at least tried to. But Granny Flossy was gone, and there was nothing Willow could do.
Her chin started to shake, and in a very small, choked voice she tried one last time to make them see that she was telling the truth. ‘B-b-but you heard what Feathering the dragon said, Mum. About how I helped him. Please can you just –’ she sniffed – ‘try to believe me?’
Raine spoke to her in a soft, kind voice, which only made things worse. ‘I do believe that, of course I do – the big dragon said that you helped him find his egg. I mean, I think that’s a WONDERFUL thing to have done.’
She shot Juniper and Camille a look and they both quickly nodded too. ‘We all do,’ continued her mother. ‘But, you see, it might have been the very excitement of meeting him and Moreg, mixed in with your grief, that caused things to get scrambled somehow … and made you think that you’d met before.’
Willow’s mouth closed over a wordless scream, hot tears leaking from her eyes unchecked.
They just wouldn’t believe her. Willow felt her hurt begin to grow as she considered the hard truth about her family. It wasn’t just that they didn’t believe her: they didn’t believe in her … and they never would. They couldn’t even imagine that it was possible for Willow to have done something even slightly remarkable, even with help. They would never see her as one of them.
She felt winded, as if something hard and jagged had hit her in the chest. The blood rushed to her ears, and there was a ringing sound – later she would wonder if it was the sound of her own heart breaking – and suddenly there was a loud pop.
She looked up to see that she had made everyone, except Oswin, vanish.
Meanwhile, somewhere far away, a throne glinted like opals and diamonds in the shadows. Though, if you were to look closer, it seemed to be made of feathers and roots and darkness.
The queen who sat upon it had shadowy eyes like a night devoid of stars. She steepled her fingers and asked her servant, ‘You know what you need to do?’
The servant nodded, once. His gaze flicked towards the white-haired man on the floor whose eyes were pale and unseeing, though from his mumbling lips came a low moan.
The queen shifted in her seat like moving ink, and her hair floated in the air above as if she were underwater. She made a motion with her fingers and a small, shadow-like bird flew towards the figure on the ground, and into his open mouth. No more sound escaped his lips.
The servant watched in silence, then turned to leave.
‘Be careful,’ the queen warned. ‘Remember who you are up against. The witch sees all – you must play your game well if you are to succeed.’
‘I know what is at stake,’ said the servant.
The queen said nothing. She simply lifted a finger. It was the colour of birch bark, silver and dry and stronger than steel. A mist appeared, and there was a flash of wings, and then nothing at all.
3
An Unlikely Accomplice
In the silence between the thunderclaps of Willow’s own heartbeats, Oswin stared up at her in horror. ‘Oh NOOOOO! Oh, me ’orrid aunt! They’ll never believes yew now that yer magic has gon’ proper squifflesticks,’ he groaned, covering his large, lamp-like eyes with his paws as if he really didn’t want to watch what happened next.
‘You’re right,’ said Willow in a small, scared voice. She swallowed, and took a wary step back from where the table had been, knocking a chair over in her fright. ‘Oswin, I’m going to have to find Moreg myself. I think I should go now, quickly, before my father gets here or they come back. I just don’t think they’ll believe me … and, to be honest, right now they’re right about one thing. I-I’m a danger to be around. Y-you can stay if you want.’
The kobold went from green to orange in a flash, his eyes shooting daggers at her. ‘WOT? Yew wants to leave me behind?’
‘No – but you might be safer here.’
Oswin shot her a dark look and harrumphed. ‘Wiffout yew ’ere, that harpy-hag will gets rid of me faster than I could blink. I’ll take me chances wiff yew any day – ’sides,’ he said in a small voice, ‘yew mights needs me.’