But, as she began to descend, a flock of ravens helicoptered from the sky, making bloodcurdling cries that made her stomach take a dive. With a horrid thrill, Willow realised they were aiming straight for her, as if she were some rather large prey they’d quite like to gobble up.
‘What ON WOL?’ She screamed and twisted the broom till she veered away from the village below and almost flew straight into a clump of trees, earning herself several scrapes and scratches as she collided with a branch. She righted Whisper and tried to go back towards the village, but the ravens continued to circle her, making their odd cries.
In the hairy green carpetbag, she could hear high-pitched wails from Oswin. ‘Oh NOOOOO! Oh, me ’orrid aunt, I don’ wanna die as bird food!’
Heart pounding, Willow flew in the opposite direction through low branches, twigs smacking her in the face, until they crash-landed with a thud in a thick pile of leaves. Willow tumbled off Whisper, and the broomstick came to a halt a few feet away.
From her landing place, she looked up in immense relief to see the ravens soaring away, the air full of their eerie cries. With a shaking hand, she shaded a palm against her forehead, and noticed that one of the birds had a strange wing that appeared blue and made of something like smoke. She blinked, and it was gone.
Still breathing rather heavily, she dusted herself off, wincing as her grazed palms stung. Then she picked up the hairy green bag, which harrumphed. ‘WOT was that abouts?’
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Willow, who was having a hard time convincing her legs that they should move. She’d never known birds to behave that way. ‘I think it might be safer if we go by foot for a while.’ She fetched her broom, which was covered in mud and leaves, and put it over her shoulder with a frown.
It was late afternoon when she neared a clearing in the woods. She could see a hand-painted sign that read:
‘Hmmm, it doesn’t seem like these are the type of villagers who’d appreciate another witch on their doorstep,’ said Willow, looking at the pink graffiti that had been added by some daring soul to the bit about a witch in residence.
Oswin agreed. ‘Let’s SKEDADDLE!’
Willow turned to go back the way she’d come – only it was too late. There was a loud clanking sound from behind her that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
‘Wot do we have here? Another witch, yeh say?’ hissed a voice that made her knees forget for a moment how to hold up her legs.
Willow turned, stumbled and swallowed. In that order. Her eyes widened, and stayed that way. She could well understand how this could be one witch too many. More than enough. She was like every rumour that you might have heard when it came to the word ‘witch’, every idea that set your skin to gooseflesh, every nightmare, all rolled into one. Though there wasn’t a wart on her chin or a tall black hat on her head, somehow, from deep within Willow’s chilled heart, she felt that the figure before her had all the allotted witchiness that could have been reserved for, say, a rash of witches. Or a botherment. Or, yes, a coven, if one wished to use the proper collective noun.
She was very tall, with long silver dreadlocks that fell down to her waist. She had skin the colour of dried almonds, and strange amber eyes, like wood snapping in a fire, which blazed into Willow’s, pinning her to the spot. There was a strange clanking sound when she walked, which was somehow unexplained by her long copper-and-silver-coloured robe, and she moved with the aid of a large opal-topped cane.
‘Ohnooonooooo, a curse upon yeh, Osbertrude! This is jes NOT turnin’ outs ter be a good day to be a kobold,’ cried Oswin, who zipped himself more securely into the carpetbag and began to shake in fear. Invoking the curse of his aunt always meant serious danger was coming.
The witch’s wood-fire eyes seemed to glow, and she spoke slowly, in a spooky yet lyrical voice that caused gooseflesh to rise all over Willow’s body. ‘Wot yeh doin’ down here in these woods, child?’
Willow tried to explain, while also attempting to mentally persuade her knees to stop knocking. ‘I-I need to get to Troll Country. I-I was going to look for a map, or ask for directions.’
The witch narrowed her eyes. ‘Troll Country, yeh say, hmmm? That be MIGHTY interestin’. And just wot do yeh want with Moreg Vaine, child?’
Willow blinked. ‘H-how did you know that?’ There were not many people who knew that the most fearsome witch in all of Starfell chose to live in a secret castle within a valley in Troll Country …
‘Pimpernell always knows, child … and wot she don’ know she finds out soon enough.’
Willow frowned, and the witch explained. ‘That’s me name. Blu-Scarly Pimpernell, ter be precise, though most call me by the latter. I’m a hedge witch round these parts.’
‘Oh noooooo!A hed witch?’ muttered Oswin from the bag, which begin to shake even more. ‘A brain scrambler? Let’s SKEDADDLE!’
The witch rolled her amber eyes at the bag. ‘A hedge witch, kobold. Not head. I’m a healer – use things that grow in these here hedges ter make people better in me healing tower in the woods, don’ yeh know.’
Willow’s mouth fell open in surprise.
The witch turned to give the village a dark look. ‘Them there don’ quite know wot they been missin’ all this time, as I got a knack fer colds and such-like. I don’ just fix magical people’s maladies … well, not by choice anyway.’
Willow frowned. Pimpernell … She’d heard that name before, hadn’t she? Hadn’t Granny said something about her? She racked her brain but nothing came to mind.
Pimpernell looked at Willow and said, ‘So tell me ’bout it, child. Wot’s been eatin’ yeh?’
Willow bit her lip, wondering if she could trust the witch, and decided perhaps not.
‘Um. Nothing. I’m absolutely, completely fine. I just need to find Moreg. I need her help with … something.’
The witch’s strange, fiery eyes raked over her. ‘Fine, yeh say?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’ buy it, child. Yeh don’ look well, if yeh don’ mind me sayin’ so – peaky-like. Somethin’ wrong with yer magic if yeh asks me …’
Willow blinked. ‘H-how did you know that?’ she gasped.
‘Pimpernell can always tell. ’Sides, I can help yeh with that, child – no need ter bother the witch … She’s away, last I heard, so yeh’d be wasting a journey anyway. ’Sides, I been missin’ me spectacles for ages, so yeh can repay me by findin’ them once I’ve helped yeh. Is that a deal?’
Willow nodded. That sounded fair.
It was only much later, when it was too late, that she realised she’d never told the witch what her power was …
5
The Wizard Beyond the Wall
At first, as Willow followed the witch into the heart of the Howling Woods, she thought that maybe visiting a healing tower before she tried saving Nolin Sometimes wasn’t the worst idea in the world …
Though there was a tiny part of her that looked at the tall, fearsome witch and her imposing tower, which was covered in moons and stars and gold glitter, and thought … was all this really necessary? Wasn’t it just the sort of thing that made people without a magical ability a bit suspicious of those who had one?