The Forbidden Expedition

by Alex Bell

  “I’ve been to a lot of teddy bear picnics,” Drusilla said. “Does that count?”

  “Well, you’re both welcome to come to my party,” Beanie said.

  “I think the jungle fairies want to come too,” Stella said. Mustafah was tugging at Beanie’s sleeve and pointing at himself and the others in an energetic fashion. “Looks like they’re feeling better,” she said. “And if the jungle fairies were to come as well as Cadi and Dru, then you’d actually have nine people at your birthday party.”

  Beanie looked as if he literally couldn’t think of anything more wonderful in the whole world. He glanced back at the pumpkin strapped to Nigel’s back and said, “And if this pumpkin makes Moira like me again, then it’ll be ten!”

  Stella sighed and shook her head.

  They traveled on up the mountain for the whole morning, stopping only briefly to snap up the magic fort blanket for lunch. Stella hated having to stop at all—she simply wanted to get to Felix as quickly as possible. Every time her thoughts turned to him she felt an awful tangle of worry, fear, and guilt deep down in her stomach.

  The moment the fort sprang up around them, however, Ruprekt was there with packed lunches lined up on the table for each of them, including the jungle fairies, and nose bags for Nigel and Gus.

  “I would have made a sit-down lunch, but I guessed you’d prefer to keep moving,” he said. “Explorers just need to keep going sometimes, don’t they?”

  “Oh, Ruprekt, you’re marvelous!” Stella said, throwing her arms around the genie in a tight hug. “Absolutely marvelous!”

  The genie flushed to the tips of his pointed ears. “It’s really no problem at all, Miss Stella,” he said. “I’m only too glad to help.”

  They collapsed the tent and continued on their way. Their boots crunched in new snow, and more flakes started to fall as they went, so they were all glad to find that the genie had packed flasks of piping-hot soup in their lunch bags. The jungle fairies seemed to have fully recovered from the gingerbread incident, because they wolfed their lunches and then had to be constantly batted away from Gus’s and Nigel’s nose bags.

  The path wound quite close to the side of the mountain at times, and Stella saw that they were now incredibly high up. High enough to make your head spin, in fact. It was a good thing that none of them were afraid of heights. The mountain dropped sharply away in places, while in others it sloped out more gently, covered in snow and frosted pumpkins.

  “There’s Weenus’s Trading Post. Look,” Stella said, pointing it out to the others. They could see the striped awning all the way at the bottom, with the Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club dirigible floating above it.

  The dirigible made Stella think of Gideon, so she turned to Shay and said, “You’ve still got that bag of frogs, haven’t you?”

  “Yep.” Shay hoisted the bag more firmly on his shoulders. “They’re wriggling around like anything in there. It’s rather nice, actually. They keep kicking at my back, and it feels like I’m having a massage.”

  “Oh, could I carry it for a while?” Cadi asked. “My back muscles are terribly stiff.”

  Shay handed the bag over. The hunter slipped it onto her shoulders and then sighed with pleasure. “Gosh, you’re right,” she said. “This is lovely. And not even that heavy. You should go into business selling frog massage bags. You’d make a fortune.”

  “Just don’t lose it,” Shay said. “One of the frogs in there is an explorer. Probably.”

  “How are we going to escape from Witch Mountain once we find Felix?” Beanie asked, suddenly joining the conversation. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m a bit worried, seeing as we had to trade away our dirigible and we’re surrounded by dangerous, monster-infested oceans on all sides.”

  “Perhaps we could steal that hot-air balloon we saw?” Stella suggested. “Remember? The big black one with the ‘Be gone! Witches only!’ sign hanging from it? Actually, I’m surprised we can’t see it by now—I would’ve thought it should be right here.”

  “Oh, it is,” Drusilla said from her broomstick. “It’s just around this corner, actually. You can’t see it because the mountain is blocking it from view, but it’s here—in fact, the balloon marks the witch gate.”

  The explorers turned the corner in the winding mountain path and suddenly found themselves face-to-face with the witch gate, set right into the rocky wall of the mountain. It was a looming, formidable thing, all black iron and frosted metal. The iron bars were so tall that they would have kept out even a yeti, and images of broomsticks and bats twisted around on themselves in the curling metal. As Drusilla had said, the hot-air balloon floated high above the gates, tethered to one of its vast posts by a long rope. Any one of them could simply untie it if they wanted to.

  “There isn’t even anyone guarding it,” Shay said, looking around. “We could take it on the way back down.”

  “Oh, you don’t want to escape in that,” Drusilla said.

  “Why not?” Stella asked. “It looks perfect.”

  “No, that’s the Balloon of Death and Madness,” Drusilla said. “Anyone who flies in it will go mad and die, you know.”

  Everyone stared at her.

  “Why on earth would anyone invent such a depraved thing?” Ethan demanded.

  “It was Mad Agnes who did it,” Drusilla said. Then she added, “Oh dear, you’re not after Mad Agnes, are you? She really is completely mad—even madder than that bag of frogs you’re carrying around. And any witch who’s madder than a bag of frogs is probably better off left alone, I’d say.”

  “You can all come back with me in my father’s ship,” Cadi said. “It’s moored just offshore. You probably saw it when you arrived. I’ve got a flare gun to signal when I’m ready to be picked up.”

  “That’s great,” Stella said. “Thank you.”

  “So, are you after Mad Agnes?” Drusilla pressed.

  “No. We’re after a witch called Jezzybella,” Stella replied. “Have you heard of her?”

  Drusilla tilted her head. “Is she the one who turns children into matchsticks?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Or the scarecrow queen? She’s the one who gave life to all the scarecrows, which then went on a rampage.” Drusilla shuddered. “Gosh, the night of the rampaging scarecrows was pretty awful, from what I hear.”

  “No. She didn’t do that either,” Stella said. Then she frowned and added, “At least, I don’t think she did. But I don’t really know much about her except for the fact that she murdered my parents.”

  “Why did she do that?” Drusilla asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Stella replied. “My parents were very cruel to her. And the magic mirror in my castle said she did it because she was evil.”

  Drusilla frowned. “There must have been more to it than that. Even bad witches don’t go around murdering people without a reason. The thing is that a bad witch doesn’t believe they’re bad, you see. To them, everything they do makes perfect sense and is quite reasonable.”

  Stella would have liked to protest this and say that her parents couldn’t possibly have done anything bad enough to give a witch reason to kill them, but she’d seen the iron slippers and the burned feet of the puppet.

  “Nothing excuses murder, though,” she said. “And my parents were the snow queen and king, so this witch must be very powerful.”

  Drusilla stared at her with big eyes. Then she glanced at the gate and said, “Look, are you sure you want to go after her? Just because not all witches are evil doesn’t mean that some of them aren’t really dangerous.”

  “I don’t want to go after her, really,” Stella said. “In fact, I didn’t choose this at all. She’s the one who came after me with a vulture. So Felix went chasing after her, and I can’t let him face her alone. If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I would do.”

  She could feel all her fear and panic rising up in her chest at the thought, and was glad of Shay’s comforting hand on her shoulde
r.

  “Nothing will happen to Felix, Sparky,” he said. “Not when he’s got such a superb rescue party racing after him.”

  “Well, this might be your last chance to reconsider,” Drusilla said. “Once we go past the witch gate, there’s no knowing what will happen or what we might come up against.”

  Stella glanced back at the others and said, “Listen, I’m so grateful to you all for coming with me this far,” she said. “But if anyone wants to stop and wait here, I really will completely understand. There’s no obligation to continue on.”

  But the boys were already shaking their heads.

  “You know, you really talk rubbish sometimes,” Ethan said. “Of course we’re coming.”

  Beanie folded his arms over his chest. “Friends don’t let friends face dangerous, murderous witches alone, and you’re the best friend anyone could ask for, Stella.”

  Shay just lifted her up in a great big hug, her boots coming right off the ground. “Beanie is quite right,” he said, setting her down. “You’re one of the best friends anyone could ask for, Sparky. We love you, and there’s no way we’re letting you do this by yourself.”

  Stella suddenly felt a bit like she might be about to cry, but an expedition was no place for crying and carrying on, so she swallowed the feeling down and smiled at the other explorers instead.

  “Thank you,” she said. “If I can ever repay you, then I will.” She glanced over at Cadi and Drusilla and said, “I expect you two would like to stay behind, though?”

  “Not me.” Cadi shook her head. “I want to be an explorer, remember? And what kind of explorer turns down the chance to explore a part of Witch Mountain they’ve never seen before? I’ve still got three days left before Father mounts a search party in case I’ve been captured by a witch or gobbled up by a swamp ogre.”

  “You mean rescue party, don’t you?” Beanie asked.

  Cadi gave him a look. “Really not much rescuing that can be done if you get gobbled up by a swamp ogre.”

  “Well, I’ve got to come with you because the witch gate will only open for a witch,” Drusilla said. “Besides, now that I’m a witch in training, I have every right to finally see what lies behind these gates. I can’t promise to stick around if some furious witch comes after you, though. In fact, I’ll probably fly straight off on my broomstick if that happens.”

  “That seems fair enough,” Shay said. “Let’s press on, then. The days go by fast, and there’s no time to lose.” He glanced at Drusilla and said, “How do we get past the gates? They look like they’re locked pretty tight.”

  Stella saw that he was right. A huge chain was wound through the iron bars, with the most gigantic padlock fastened at the front. Strangely, there was a small plume of smoke twisting from the top of it.

  Drusilla noticed this too and said, “Perhaps there’s a dragon key in there.” She stepped up to the lock and pressed her eye right up to the keyhole. “Oh, it’s a fairy lock,” she said. “Yes, I can see that there’s a spells fairy in there.” She stepped back, gestured to Stella, and said, “Take a look.”

  Stella stepped up to the padlock eagerly. Although she had grown up with a fairyologist and had been surrounded by fairies her whole life, she was always eager to see a new one. She squinted through the keyhole and immediately saw that this wasn’t just a padlock but was, in fact, a little house. There was a fireplace with a tiny fire crackling in it (which accounted for the smoke), a thick rug, and a line of bookshelves filled with fairy tales. There was also a table, on which sat a spotty teapot and a dainty teacup, and a wing-backed armchair, in which sat the spells fairy herself, who was just in the act of pouring herself a cup of tea. It looked ever so cozy, especially as there was a tiny white fairy cat curled up in a ball on the rug before the fire.

  Stella would have loved to peer in for longer, but just then she felt a whiskery face pushing her out of the way as Gus muscled in, pressing his eye up against the keyhole.

  “Sorry,” Cadi said. “He just wants to see what all the fuss is about.”

  Unfortunately, the excellent lunch Ruprekt had prepared for him (consisting mostly of clams, clams, and more clams), caught up with Gus just then, and he produced a loud, long belch that absolutely stank of fish and walrus breath and went straight into the spells fairy’s house.

  She was out within seconds, gasping and choking for breath as she clutched on to the iron bar. She was similar to the fairies Stella had seen at home, except for the fact that she wore a robe rather than a dress. It was fur-trimmed and covered in glittering gold stars. She also wore a pointed hat, beneath which frizzed a mass of dark ringlets. She carried a tiny wand with a star at the end of it, which she gripped in one hand as she gasped for air.

  “Gracious me, what is this?” she demanded. “Is the witch gate under attack?”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry,” Drusilla said. “You’re not under attack. It was an accident. Our walrus had a little too much lunch.”

  “Walrus!” The fairy gasped. “Is that what that was?” She gave a shudder and said, “You almost killed my cat!”

  “We really are very sorry,” Cadi said. “Gus doesn’t have the best manners. He is a walrus, after all—”

  The fairy held up her hand and said, “I don’t care. What do you want? Why have you come to the witch gate?” She looked at them properly for the first time then and seemed startled. Stella supposed they did make rather a strange group. It wasn’t every day that you saw four explorers, four jungle fairies, one hunter, one witch in training, one camel, an entire bag of wriggling wonky squish-squish frogs, and one walrus wearing a pith helmet.

  “Um … we’d like to pass through the witch gate, please?” Drusilla said. “I’m a witch in training, you see.” She pointed at her hat and waved her broomstick.

  “And who are these other people? And beasts and things?” the fairy asked.

  “They’re my prisoners,” Drusilla said promptly.

  The fairy looked them up and down. “You’ve taken an awful lot of prisoners for such a small witch,” she remarked.

  “They’re all very stupid,” Drusilla said. “Quite remarkably so. Just look at their walrus. And this one thought he could disguise himself as Little Red Riding Boot,” she said, pointing at Ethan, whose hair was still bunched up in tight ringlets. “It wasn’t very difficult to take them prisoner at all. So, will you open the gate for us?”

  “Fine.” The fairy shook her head. “Anything as long as you take that walrus away with you.”

  She tapped the padlock with her wand, and it clicked open. The chain magically unwound itself, and the big iron gates swung slowly forward with a creaking sound that was loud enough to make the snow on the mountain tremble and had everyone thinking about avalanches.

  Gus immediately dragged himself forward across the snow, tongue lolling happily. The others passed with a little more trepidation, trying not to feel too intimidated as the gates of Witch Mountain swung shut behind them with a loud clang.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NO ONE REALLY KNEW quite what to expect from the top of Witch Mountain, but they were all fairly sure that it wouldn’t be anything good. Stella felt a renewed sense of urgency—there’d been no sign of any confetti vultures for a while, and Felix could be confronting the witch right at this very moment for all they knew. Reluctantly, she took the magic tiara from her cloak and put it on her head. She had no wish to wear it really, but she needed to be ready in case some awful witch or monster came bursting out at them unexpectedly.

  They set off along the snowy path leading through a gorge in the rock, the dark sides of the mountain looming overhead in a threatening sort of way. Stella saw that the sides were covered in dramatic frozen waterfalls, which would have been quite pretty if it weren’t for the sight of the glow-piranhas trapped inside the water, still glowing softly, their bulging eyes staring out from behind their ice prison.

  As they made their way deeper into the chasm, they saw other things trapped within the fr
ozen water, including a pith helmet, a set of false vampire teeth, a cascade of star-tipped, sparkling fairy wands, a picnic basket full of chocolate broomsticks, and a teeny-tiny (definitely fairy-size) raft with a Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club flag attached to it. Upon seeing this last one, Stella felt obliged to return the drums to the jungle fairies so they could resume the chant of doom they were clearly desperate to perform.

  “It was a Jungle Cat expedition that first discovered Witch Mountain,” Beanie said. “There must have been some jungle fairies with them too. Some of them must have gotten past the witch gate, after all. It was headed by Captain Archibald Primrose Perkins, you know, and he’s generally seen as being one of the most determined and intrepid explorers ever.”

  “And what happened to him?” Cadi asked eagerly. “Showered with accolades when he got home, I expect?”

  “No,” Beanie said. “He was killed by witch wolves on the mountain.”

  As if on cue, a lone witch wolf howled in the distance—a high, keening sound that ripped through the cold air. Shay immediately flinched, and Koa tipped back her head and howled as well.

  “Oh dear. You’d better stop her from doing that, if you can,” Drusilla said, looking worried. “We really don’t want the witch wolves to know where we are.”

  “Sshhh. It’s okay, girl. It’s okay,” Shay said to Koa in a soothing voice. He glanced at the others and said, “Everything about those witch wolves feels wrong, dreadfully wrong. Koa must feel it too, which is why she’s reacting like that.”

  “How do you mean?” Stella asked, frowning at the sight of Koa, who had her tail between her legs and was cowering at Shay’s side once again.

  “Well, when normal wolves talk to me, I hear their words inside my head and it feels … kind of warm. But when the witch wolves howl like that, it feels icy cold, and sharp, and it actually hurts. Like having shards of ice packed inside your skull.”