Explorers on Witch Mountain

by Alex Bell

  ‘Ooh, I’m going to go to Iced Spiced Gingerbread Street!’ Drusilla piped up at once. ‘That sounds smashing!’ She gave a shudder. ‘I don’t fancy being chased by any more incensed witches, or their scarecrows either, thank you very much. I’m sorry, everyone, but from here you’re on your own.’

  At the mention of the word gingerbread, one of the jungle fairies gave a dry heave, which immediately made Nigel spit in irritation. Stella thought this only fair, since no one really wants a jungle fairy being sick on their back, after all, especially when they’re so frightfully noisy about it.

  ‘Good luck with your witch hunt,’ Drusilla said. ‘I hope you find your father before a witch gobbles him up.’ And, with that, she plucked a hair from her head, passed it to Cadi, and then waved them goodbye before grabbing hold of her broomstick and zooming off in the direction of Iced Spiced Gingerbread Street.

  Cadi and the explorers watched her go and, for the first time, realised that the peak of the mountain was actually in sight. It rose sharp and black and jagged in the air, with snow scattered about in patches.

  The next moment, Stella spotted a stray confetti vulture hopping off down one of the paths.

  ‘Look over there!’ she cried, pointing it out to the others. ‘It’s a confetti vulture!’

  Everyone turned to look.

  ‘What path is that?’ Shay asked.

  It was bright orange in colour, and made from hundreds of tiny bricks. Embedded between some of them were black cats, bats, toads and cauldrons.

  ‘It’s the path for Witch Village,’ Cadi said, pointing at the sign.

  Just as she spoke, the confetti vulture lost the last of its magic and keeled over on the snow, fluttering limply.

  ‘Witch Village it is then,’ Shay said.

  ‘Is it safe to just go walking straight into Witch Village, though?’ Beanie asked, fiddling with his wooden narwhal anxiously. ‘Won’t it be full of witches?’

  ‘We’ll just have to deal with that when we get there,’ Stella said. She knew it wasn’t much of an answer, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Yes, it was dangerous, but they had already been slowed down by the witch and her scarecrows, and they couldn’t delay going after Felix another moment longer.

  As the explorers walked towards the village, Stella wondered what kind of awful place Jezzybella might live in. Visions of haunted castles, and freezing bat caves, and savage dungeons filled her mind, but she tried to push these away. They just had to concentrate on getting there for now. Still, the closer they got, the more terrible the thought became. Stella couldn’t help thinking of the nightmares that had tormented her for years – the screaming, the shuffling, burnt feet, the blood droplets scattered scarlet over the snow. She had never wished more fervently to be home, warm and safe with Felix, in her whole life.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the village, and they smelled it before they saw it – a heavenly mixture of spiced gingerbread and hot fruit punch. They came round the corner and were met with a collection of the most crooked buildings Stella had ever seen. There were wonky thatched cottages, and leaning towers, and twisted shops selling all kinds of things. The cobbled high street was made from barley sugar, and a fizzy sherbet fountain fizzed and frothed in the centre.

  As they had feared, there were, indeed, quite a few witches hurrying to and fro – but they didn’t look much like the angry one they’d just encountered. Most of them were pleasant-looking old ladies who wore their hair neatly arranged in buns tucked beneath their hats, and had outfits similar to the one Drusilla had worn: black dresses, pointed hats, striped stockings and buckled shoes. There wasn’t a scarecrow coat in sight. Some of the witches carried broomsticks, while others had cauldrons swinging from their arms. Stella noticed one or two with a bat, or a toad, or a newt balanced on their shoulder, or curling around at their feet, and realised they must be their familiars. Stella could tell they were no ordinary animals because every one of them wore a pointed black hat.

  The first witch that passed them stopped immediately. To Stella’s surprise, she was a kindly-looking old lady, with a hooked nose and twinkly blue eyes. She carried a cauldron with a raven in it. The bird wore a pointed hat and gazed over the rim at them with bright, beady eyes before squawking amicably.

  ‘What’s this then?’ the witch asked, looking them up and down. ‘How on earth did you manage to get past the witch gate? Never mind the flying sharks and biting pumpkins and whatnot? I mean, what’s the point in us putting all these things there if they’re not going to keep nosy parkers away?’

  The raven squawked in agreement.

  ‘We’re not nosy parkers,’ Beanie told her. ‘We’re explorers.’

  ‘But you’re not supposed to be here,’ the old witch almost wailed. A couple of passing witches heard her and stopped to see what all the fuss was about.

  ‘Are these explorers?’ one of the new witches exclaimed. ‘But why have they come here? Surely they know that Witch Mountain is too perilous for exploring?’

  ‘I thought the hunters said that to everyone they met, including the Explorers’ Clubs,’ the third witch said. ‘To keep their prices high, you know.’

  Cadi blushed. ‘Well, everyone has to earn a living,’ she said.

  ‘We don’t mean any harm,’ Stella said. The explorers were already starting to inch away. ‘We’re just looking for my father. As soon as we find him, we’ll go home.’

  ‘But—’ one of the witches began.

  ‘And we’ll write a fearsome Flag Report,’ Shay added. ‘Telling everyone about what a terrible place Witch Mountain is.’

  ‘Just see that you do,’ the witch with the raven huffed. ‘We’ve made a great effort to keep people out. Is it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet in your retirement?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Stella said. ‘We’ll be gone before you know it.’

  The explorers hastily took their leave before the witches could question them any further. As they moved away from the centre and into the outskirts, the streets became darker and narrower, and the shops looked like they catered for hexes and curses and evil magic. The explorers started to avoid looking in through the windows in case they saw a rat nailed to the wall, or a pile of warty toads, or a barrel of poisonous apples. Everything smelled of damp and rot and grease.

  The witches shopping here were distinctly less kindly looking too. If they acknowledged them at all it was to mutter about how visitors shouldn’t be allowed on Witch Mountain, and the only thing children were good for was eating, and it was a shame it was generally frowned upon to hex people in Witch Village.

  They all became rather keen to get out of the village as quickly as possible but, unfortunately, the streets had become quite maze-like, twisting around and around on themselves, veering off into little alleyways and side streets, all filled with the same unsavoury shops.

  ‘We’re going round in circles,’ Ethan said eventually.

  ‘No, we’re not,’ Cadi said. ‘I’m sure this is the way out.’

  ‘I recognise the mask in that window,’ Ethan said, pointing at a nearby shop. ‘I noticed it the first time because of how snarly it is. Nigel noticed it too. He spat at it, look.’ He pointed at what did, indeed, appear to be a large trail of camel spit running down the filthy window.

  Right on cue, Nigel spat at the mask again, and the big glob hit the window with a splat. A moment later, a man came hurrying out of the shop. He was bent-backed, and almost entirely bald, and seemed quite irritated. Stella thought he must have had some goblin blood in him because his ears were slightly pointed and his eyes were very large.

  ‘Can’t you control your camel?’ the man demanded. ‘Why do you even have a camel here anyway? It’s absurd and I won’t stand for it! It’s an outrage! I’ve worked too long and too hard to build up this shop only to have camels come along and spit at it.’

  ‘I don’t see what difference it makes,’ Ethan said, ‘given that the window’s already filthy.�
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  ‘We’re very sorry,’ Shay hurried to apologise. ‘We’re lost. We’re actually trying to find our way out of the village. Perhaps you could direct us? We’re looking for a witch called Jezzybella.’

  The shopkeeper stared – his eyes becoming even larger in his face. ‘No one goes to Jezzybella’s house,’ he said. ‘No one. There’s a frightful thing living there.’

  ‘Do you know the address?’ Stella asked eagerly. ‘It’s really very important that we see her.’

  The man was already shaking his head and backing away from them into the shop. ‘Mad,’ he muttered. ‘You’d have to be mad to go there. Jezzybella has a dangerous taste in pets.’

  ‘We already know about the vulture,’ Stella said.

  ‘I ain’t talking about the vulture, girl,’ the man grunted.

  Stella wondered whether he had meant the poisonous rabbits but, before she could ask, he said, ‘Look, if it’ll get you away from here then just follow the path around the corner, turn right and then right again. That’ll take you out of Witch Village.’

  He stepped into his shop and was about to close the door when Stella said, ‘And how do we get to Jezzybella’s house after that?’

  The man glanced at her, his eyes like saucers in the dim light. ‘From there you just follow the blood,’ he said.

  ‘Blood?’ Stella repeated, startled.

  ‘Saw Jezzybella’s vulture going up there yesterday with some chap in tow,’ he said. ‘You’ll see the blood trail all right. Can’t miss it.’

  And, with that, he firmly closed the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Stella practically fled from the village, and the others had to hurry to keep up with her. She could feel her hands shaking as she raced around the corners of the little cobbled streets.

  A trail of blood …

  That must mean Felix was hurt. Perhaps the magic cuff on the vulture had worn off. Or perhaps he had been attacked by something else on his way up Witch Mountain. And now he had an entire day’s head start on them and was going to face Jezzybella alone – in fact, he might already have done so, and perhaps they were too late …

  They found a side exit in the form of an arched gate and, as soon as they stepped out, saw the blood on the snowy path leading away from them. There was no time to lose and the explorers followed the path quickly and in silence. They were too tense to talk – no one wanted to speculate about what they might find when they reached the witch. The path led steeply up to the very top of the mountain where the air felt cold and thin and sharp, burning their ears and making their chests ache with the effort of breathing.

  Finally, the path cut straight through a mountain tunnel. The explorers went through it with the icy wind whistling past their ears, sounding strangely like voices. Stella was reminded of the cold, frozen spirits she’d heard on their last expedition to the Icelands – the tormented souls of all the people who’d died feeling cold. As an ice princess, she didn’t normally feel the cold too badly – and seemed to be feeling it less and less all the time – but she shivered now, and drew her cloak closer about her.

  When they reached the other end of the tunnel it looked like a dead end at first – just a solid wall of rock rising up above them.

  ‘Perhaps we took a wrong turn somewhere,’ Shay said.

  ‘But this has got to be it,’ Stella replied. ‘The … the blood trail carries on through here.’

  There was, indeed, a trail of smeared blood along the stone floor.

  ‘Perhaps Felix realised it was a dead end and turned round and walked back the way he’d come,’ Shay suggested.

  ‘But there was only one trail going into the tunnel,’ Stella said. ‘There must be another way out of here somewhere.’

  She lifted the pixie lantern higher and the explorers examined every inch of the wall. Finally, Beanie spotted the narrow gap in the rock.

  Cadi shook her head. ‘No way Gus is going to fit through that. He’ll have to wait here for us.’

  ‘So will Nigel,’ Ethan said.

  Gus didn’t like not being able to follow Cadi, and there was a great deal of fuss and bellowing as they left. They distinctly heard the thump of his pith helmet hitting the rock multiple times as he tried to follow them, with zero success.

  ‘Gus, you can’t come through here, you’re not going to fit,’ Cadi said. ‘You’re ginormous and this gap is tiny, look.’ She reached an arm through to pat him on his whiskery face. ‘We’ll be back to get you before you know it. Promise.’

  After squeezing through the gap, the expedition found themselves in a larger tunnel, and followed this to the open air on the other side. They stepped out not knowing quite what they would find, but fully expecting it to be bad.

  In fact, it was worse than they’d thought.

  They were surrounded, on all sides, by spider webs. Only these were no ordinary webs. For one thing, they were absolutely giant – far bigger than the explorers themselves – and, for another, they were made of ice. The frozen webs glittered dangerously at them, blocking their sight of whatever lay ahead.

  ‘Gosh,’ Stella finally said. ‘I wonder what could have made these?’

  ‘Ice spiders,’ Beanie said in a low voice at her side. She glanced at him and saw that he looked a little sick. ‘They’re extremely dangerous.’

  Stella recalled what the goblin man had said about Jezzybella’s taste in pets.

  ‘Of course they are,’ Ethan sighed.

  ‘No wonder that man back at the village said no one ever comes here,’ Stella said.

  She couldn’t help thinking the webs were rather beautiful, though. They were fantastically delicate and intricate, reminding her of the way each individual snowflake was completely unique and special in its own way. But she shuddered at the thought of a spider large enough to build webs this big – they towered over the explorers, chilling the air, and blocking out the sunlight, which filtered through, pale blue and ghostly. The space around them was freezing cold and utterly still and silent, like all the air had been sucked out of it, as if something was crouching close by, holding its breath and watching them …

  ‘We can climb through the web,’ Stella said. ‘The gaps between the strands are big enough to squeeze through. I don’t think we should touch it, though—’

  Unfortunately, the jungle fairies were perhaps a little too intrepid for their own good and had already started forwards. Before Stella could finish speaking, Humphrey had brushed up against one of the icy strands. It was so cold that it gave him a frost burn on his hand and he snatched his arm back with an aggrieved cry. Unlike a normal web, this one wasn’t sticky, and didn’t ensnare the jungle fairy. Instead, it rang out at his touch with a chiming sound that echoed from one strand to the other, until the air seemed full of peals, like hundreds of frozen bells all ringing at the same time.

  The explorers stared around in dismay as the jungle fairies fled to the safety of Stella’s cloak pockets, poking their heads over the top and peering around wildly. They all realised instantly that the chiming was an alarm system designed to alert something to their presence, and, moments later, there was a frantic scrabbling sound as something rapidly clinked and chinked its way towards them, sending off more chimes – echoes upon echoes of them – that were almost deafening.

  The next second, the creature had arrived, and a shadow fell across the expedition as a huge ice spider, easily the size of a house, loomed over them, its spindly ice legs ending in points as sharp as daggers; its pincers pinching together in frenzied excitement; and its eight burning red eyes staring down at them with an awful look of greed.

  There is only one suitable response when faced with such a monster, and that is to scream and shout and run for your lives. The explorers raced through the icy strands of the web, trying not to notice that their boots were crunching on a deep carpet of bones as they went. Every time one of them knocked against part of the web, the chimes and peals set off all over again, ringing out so loudly it hurt their e
ars. A couple of times one of them bumped into the web so hard that a strand of it shattered, and this made even more of a din, like a trumpet going off beside their heads.

  It was impossible to outrun the spider. It was there at every turn, using the web to climb up above them and drop down onto the path before them, cutting off any route of escape. The explorers fled deeper into the web and hunkered down together in one of the clearings as the spider scuttled to and fro above them, trying to work out where they had gone.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Cadi gasped. ‘Didn’t you bring any weapons with you?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Ethan replied.

  ‘Nothing big enough to use on an ice spider,’ the hunter replied.

  ‘Ice spiders are blind,’ Beanie said. ‘If we tiptoe through without touching the web and don’t make any noise then it might not find us.’

  ‘That could work,’ Shay said. ‘If we just take it slow and don’t panic then we can avoid touching the web.’

  Stella made sure the jungle fairies were all securely tucked in her pocket before they carried on, carefully ducking and weaving and stepping over each icy strand. For a while, it seemed to be working. The spider ran back and forth above them but had lost their trail and, finally, it came to a halt in the middle of the web, its legs trembling with anticipation as it waited for someone to make a sound and give away their position.

  Shay nudged Stella and pointed ahead. Through the last strands they could make out a house ahead. It had to be the witch’s. Stella nodded at Shay. They were almost there …

  And then Beanie stepped on a bone that broke with a loud snap beneath his boot. Everyone immediately froze, but it was too late. The spider had heard them and came racing over, the web ringing and pealing around it as it skittered right up to them, stopping just a few feet from Beanie.