Harper and the Night Forest

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Harper and the Night Forest Page 5

by Cerrie Burnell


  “Close every window,” said Harper breathlessly, and at once her friends did. Then Ferdie blocked the bottom of the door with his serious scarf and Midnight stretched out on top of it to make sure it was secure. Very carefully, Harper opened the Scarlet Umbrella and emptied out the cloud. It was quite spectacular; suddenly, the room was full of mist that coated the children’s skin with the quiet wish of rain.

  “Here goes nothing,” said Liesel in a giddy voice, picking up the scissors and, on the count of three, snipping the cloud open.

  A rush of ice and wind poured out, making the children giggle and the wolf yelp. Ferdie delicately pinched one side of the cloud between his fingers, while Nate took the other. Harper raised her harp through the shimmering specks of rain and began to sweetly play.

  As her fingers plucked the silken strings, Liesel jumped up and down on the bellows, sending every note of music sailing into the cloud. It was a melody of late-night moons over mystical forests, fierce wolves, and birds with dazzling wings.

  “It’s the Ice Raven’s song,” gasped Liesel, and everyone smiled.

  Once the last notes had glided into the open cloud, Ferdie and Nate snapped it closed, their fingers trembling against the cloud’s iciness. Quick as a mouse, Liesel stitched it back together with the length of glistening guitar string, hardly pausing to blink until it was done. Nate bound the remaining edentwine around the cloud’s middle and carefully attached it to the bicycle.

  “Let go,” said Harper in a tiny voice.

  The children all looked at one another and, at exactly the same moment, they all let go of the bicycle and seized one another’s hands. The cloud hovered strangely above them, and the children held their breath as Harper opened the door, hardly daring to look.

  Liesel gave a great gasp, Ferdie heaved a sigh of relief, Nate chuckled, and Harper clapped with delight. The instrument sewn from silver-lined cloud—the instrument Harper had long dreamed of—was hovering just above the rooftop. “All it needs now is a rider,” she said, smiling, “and I know just the person.”

  The Wild Conductor stood at the foot of his turret watching the last of his ravens soar away. He pulled his long satin coat tightly around him, and he was just about to go and find Harper and get his bicycle back, when it floated past him. His eyes widened in bemusement as he took in the shimmering cloud above it and saw it was fastened to the bicycle’s pedals in such a way that, when you rode it, the cloud would be squeezed in and out like an airborne accordion.

  “Climb on,” Harper urged, hopping from foot to foot with excitement.

  For a moment, the tall man hesitated, then slowly, a little unsteadily, he got on. Everybody waited in perfect stillness, even the wolf, the pink dove, and the cat.

  As the Wild Conductor began to pedal, a drop of rain fell from the cloud, and with it came a sound—a little splashed note. As the bike climbed higher and the raindrops fell faster, a rich, beautiful tune came tumbling down, echoing wild wood magic: the tune of a fairy-tale bird played with harp and echoed in rain. It was quite the loveliest sound ever to be heard in the City of Singing Clocks. A song that could tame the fiercest heart.

  The best thing about it for Harper was the light that appeared in the Wild Conductor’s eyes, a glow of impossible joy. “Follow me,” he bellowed, pointing toward the Night Forest.

  He didn’t need to ask twice. Soon everyone was gathered in the fairy-tale keeper’s garden in the middle of the deep, dark wood, smiling up at the Wild Conductor as he pedaled over the dark tree. The prince and the maiden recognized their song and began to sing in time. The fairy-tale keepers came rushing out, too, and they started up a merry dance while Harper and her friends picked up the tune on their instruments.

  From the sky above, the Wild Conductor found himself laughing. He had almost given up on his dream entirely, until a child had shown him it was still possible. A child with a rare musical gift. As the musical rain spilled down on the forest, a plan for a sky-bound concert began filling his mind.

  As dusk fell, a curious sound rang through the forest—the whir of spinning blades!

  “Great Aunt Sassy!” Harper shrieked, dashing to meet her by the hovering helicopter and falling into her arms.

  “Hello, my darling girl,” Great Aunt Sassy cooed, wrapping Harper in a lavender-scented embrace. “Have you had a wondrous adventure?” Harper nodded and pointed to the sky, where a dark shape was pedaling through the sunset. “What do you call this fabulous instrument?” Sassy asked.

  Harper thought for a moment. “A cloudian,” she answered proudly.

  “We can make room for it in the kitchen.” Sassy grinned, but Harper shook her head.

  “It’s a gift for the Wild Conductor,” she explained. “One day it will help him win back his place in the Circus of Dreams.”

  “I’m certain it will,” Sassy said, beaming, “but that is an adventure yet to come. For now, my darling, let’s celebrate all the wonders of the Night Forest.”

  And so it was that the girl with the rare musical gift, the poetic boy with the serious scarf, the girl who longed for wicked witches, and the boy with the silver-bright wolf and a knack for finding fairy tales stayed in the Night Forest until the dawn broke once more, dancing with a family of fairy-tale keepers, alongside the prince and the maiden, to magical music that would never be forgotten, music played on an instrument woven from silver-lined cloud.

  Much, much later, when all the children had snuggled up in Harper’s turret, she tucked her golden harp back inside her Scarlet Umbrella and wrapped her arms around Midnight. Soon they would fly back home to the City of Clouds, but for now, it was time to drift to sleep and dream of dark forests and stories written on trees.

  “Good night, Midnight,” she whispered, but Midnight was already gently snoring. All Harper could do was join him.

  Deep in her dream sleep, Harper rode through a sky of burning stars, her feet pedaling the cloudian. Musical melodies spilled down from the sky, and Harper saw the red-and-gold tent of the Circus of Dreams. Even in her deepest sleep, she knew that the cloudian would help the Wild Conductor win back his place in the floating circus. And she knew that she would help him.

  About the Author

  Cerrie Burnell is a presenter, actress, and writer, best known for her work in British children’s TV. She was featured in the Guardian’s 2011 list of the one hundred most inspirational women. She lives in the United Kingdom.

  About the Illustrator

  Laura Ellen Anderson is the creator of the Evil Emperor Penguin comic and the Amelia Fang series, the illustrator for many books including the Witch Wars series. She lives in the United Kingdom.

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