In Willow’s experience Oswin only got this panicked when he detected powerful magic approaching and was feeling particularly afraid. Incidentally this happened every time her sister Camille was about to enter their bedroom.
But before she had a chance to worry about why he was reacting this way Moreg said ‘Bother’ in a resigned sort of way as a tall, skinny boy dressed in a long brown robe with three golden arrows emblazoned across the chest rounded the town wall and gaped at them in apparent surprise. He had very straight, almost straw-like blond hair, which looked like it had been thatched to his head, and his pale face was generously peppered with pimples. He made the sign of Wol by holding both hands together and pointing his second and last fingers up. Then, before they could stop him, he screamed, ‘WITCHES!’ This was followed closely by, ‘BROTHERS! THEY ARE HERE!’ and he hastened away, presumably to get the others.
‘That was a Brother of Wol, right?’ asked Willow in dismay, watching him leave. The trouble with the Brothers of Wol was that if you found one, you were sure to find others; they were a bit like roaches.
Moreg nodded, pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache and said, ‘I was afraid of this – I had hoped we had more time.’
‘Afraid of what?’ asked Willow, eyes following in the direction the Brother of Wol had gone. ‘Um, don’t you think we should make a run for it?’
‘Not yet, no.’ Moreg pursed her lips and reached into the pocket of her dress, where she fished out a bronze disc about the size of a large flat biscuit. Peering over Moreg’s elbow, Willow saw that it had a large brass needle and resembled a compass, although the destinations seemed more nonsensical than geographical. There was one that read ‘Turning Point’, another that suggested ‘Cup of Tea?’, one that said, ‘If I Were You, I’d Run’, another that warned ‘There be Dragons’, and one that appeared to commiserate with ‘One Might Have Suspected as Such’.
The needle was currently pointing to ‘One Might Have Suspected as Such’.
Moreg sighed resignedly. ‘So that’s that then.’
Willow frowned. ‘What is that thing?’
‘Oh, this?’ Moreg said. ‘It’s a StoryPass; got it in the town of Library. Apparently it’s meant to help with novel cataloguing, but I find it useful in life too. Here, take a look,’ she said, handing it to Willow.
While Willow was looking at the strange compass-like object, a low, drawling voice from behind said, ‘Well, well. If it isn’t Moreg Vaine? This is a surprise – caught in the act of attempting to enter the forbidden city of Beady Hill, I see. Tut-tut.’
They turned to find a portly, bald Brother, whose small black pebble eyes were shining with glee. Next to him were several more Brothers of Wol, including the young one from earlier.
The portly Brother was dressed slightly differently to the others; his brown robe had a red circle in the middle, and the three golden arrows inside it were pointing up. Willow wondered if this marked him as some kind of senior Brother.
‘Forbidden city?’ asked Willow, looking at Moreg in surprise. Surely the witch hadn’t knowingly brought them to one of the areas that outlawed entry to magical people?
‘Newly forbidden,’ admitted the Brother with the red circle. He allowed himself a small, sinister grin, which belied his next words. ‘We are not monsters; we’ve allowed the former residents a week to gather their belongings … But, yes, forbidden now – you are trespassing on the first official day …’
Moreg’s eyes glittered. ‘Former residents – with nowhere to go now as a result? Kicked out of their homes because the only crime they have committed is to be different from you?’
The Brother sniffed. ‘Well, if by different you mean dangerous, then yes … different. It makes sense then to have them separated. We cannot let you leave, you see. I’m sure you can appreciate our predicament?’
‘And mine,’ said Moreg, her voice mild, but more ominous somehow. ‘I am in the company of a child, after all, and I wouldn’t want to see her threatened, you understand. I may very well have to react a bit … you see.’
‘React a bit what?’ The bald Brother frowned.
‘A bit unfortunately towards you …’
The Brother paled slightly, his earlier bravado slipping somewhat. ‘See here … there are consequences for breaking the law.’
‘Indeed?’ said Moreg.
‘There are rules, that even you, Ms Vaine, cannot deny any longer,’ he spat. ‘I am the High Master of the Brothers of Wol … and you are under arrest, witch, for attempting to enter a forbidden area.’
‘I understand,’ said Moreg as the young Brother with spotty skin and blond hair came forward with two pairs of iron manacles that appeared to glow with an odd, almost magical light.
Willow frowned as she considered the manacles; they looked odd. Willow gasped as she realised. ‘Those manacles have been magicked!’
‘Well, how else would you lock up a witch?’ scoffed the High Master. Some of the Brothers next to him started chuckling.
From within the bag Oswin muttered darkly ‘’Tis a bit rich, don’t you fink? I mean, they don’ want magic in the world, but they isn’t afraid to use it?’
‘Shhhhh,’ whispered Willow, giving the carpetbag a shake, though she couldn’t help but agree with him. She could hear Oswin grumble. ‘Jes sayin’ …’
Moreg gave the High Master a thin smile. ‘Fascinating. But you see there are rules for me as well. Rules that I too must follow. Rules about fairness, about freedom, against bullying … Rules in short that protect those in my charge.’
Above their heads thunder shook the sky, which turned instantly dark. The noise was deafening, and very close to where they were standing a bolt of lightning shot down and scorched the ground.
The High Master jumped. There were burn marks from the lightning on the ends of his robe. ‘See here,’ he said, gulping, his eyes wide, ‘you were about to enter Beady Hill. I have no choice; I have to take you both.’
The witch stared at him for some time, her black eyes glittering in the sudden gloom. ‘I think you’ll find that even in the darkest, most hopeless of times there is always a choice when you look hard enough. Even if that choice is simply about how you will act. For instance, if I were you, I would choose to take only me. This is a choice, that I for one would have no cause to –’ she waved a hand, and all of the Brothers flinched – ‘make a fuss over.’ There was a ghost of a smile about her lips.
The High Master cleared his throat. ‘But I have to—’
Thunder ripped the sky once more, and a second bolt of lightning shot from above, leaving a fiery burn inches from the Brother’s feet. He didn’t jump, but his portly cheek flexed in anger, and he made a low, almost hissing sound.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Moreg.
He looked at her. ‘I suppose we can let the child go … with a warning.’
The other Brothers agreed.
Moreg nodded. ‘I think that’s best, yes.’ Then, straightening up, she said, ‘Very well,’ and the darkening sky turned to dusk once more, and the sound of thunder died instantly, as she stepped forward so that they could arrest her.