Willow Bloom and the Dream Keepers

by E. V. Farrell

  “No. Just thinking.” If only you knew …

  “Only ten days to the Christmas break,” Willow chortled as the three girls hurried along the cloisters to their next class.

  “Can’t wait,” Harriett muttered. “I can be home all day by the fire keeping warm and toasty instead of freezing my butt off here!”

  Willow looked over at her. “It’s not that bad.” But just at that moment they turned the corner of the building into the worst wind tunnel in the school. A bitterly cold wind blew straight into their faces.

  “Brr! You were saying …” Harriet thrust her books out in front of her face. “I’ll remind you that I’m originally from Botswana, so I can’t handle the cold very well. What I wouldn’t give to export Botswana’s sunshine to England right now.”

  Willow didn’t disagree. The wind was blowing straight through her. “I think the rest of England would thank you for it too.” Hmm … Could the Dream Keepers help to change the weather?

  The girls had arrived at the main school building for their music class. Haddon Hall was the oldest part of the school, dating back to the late 1700s. The stone turret cast a heavy shadow across the courtyard to a granite pillar, and each side of the pillar displayed a clock face that revealed they were later for their class than they had thought.

  “Crap,” Claire said. “Grennan won’t be happy.”

  “We’ll just tell him that Sykes kept us in a bit after the bell,” Willow said. Having their previous lesson in the furthest possible building hadn’t helped either.

  They hesitated outside the music room. It was too quiet. Usually by now there would be a cacophony of instruments warming up.

  “You go first,” Harriett said, nudging Claire. “You’re Grennan’s pet.”

  “Am not,” Claire retorted. “He just likes the fact that I’m a genius on the violin.” She fluttered her lashes and tucked her white-blonde hair behind her ears.

  Willow and Harriett poked their fingers in their mouths and made puking noises. Willow swung her around and gave her a gentle shove. “You are so going through the door first, Claire.”

  “Thanks!” Claire whispered. “Great friends you are not.” She reached for the handle and turned it slowly.

  They breathed a collective sigh of relief. Most of the class were still setting up and only a few of them had begun warming their instruments, but the sound of those instruments provided a good cover for their entry. Mr Grennan, in full suit and bow tie, was standing in the far corner of the room chatting to some students. He didn’t even turn around when the three girls sneaked into the room and found their seats.

  Willow sat down and took her clarinet out from its case. She turned to Claire and Harriett who were sitting behind her with violins on their laps. “We just dodged the wrath of Grennan,” she whispered. She turned back to the front and the girl to her left murmured, ‘You’re so lucky you didn’t walk in sooner. He just finished a rant about being on time. From now on, anyone who’s late gets detention.’

  “Thanks,” Willow said. She settled her fingers along several holes and keys of her clarinet and blew gently into the mouthpiece.

  Mr Grennan tapped his music stand with a ruler. “All right, everyone, enough chit-chat. You should have those instruments tuned by now. Please turn to page seventy-two in your music books.” He raised his hands to lead them into their first piece. The sounds from the instruments miraculously merged and harmonised, and Mr Grennan gave a satisfied smile.

  After several rounds of Elgar and Brahms, Mr Grennan announced a short break.

  “Willow, you missed your cue,” Harriett whispered as she put her violin down.

  “I know,” Willow answered. She had been following the musical notes from her book when she was taken straight to the pages of the TriGamon with all its images and symbols, a thrilling reminder of her other life.

  Harriett’s gaze lingered a little longer. “You okay? You seem … distracted.”

  “You have been a little vague lately,” Claire added.

  “I’m fine. Just lots on my mind, that’s all.” She wished she could tell them about the Light Keepers’ world and the amazing things she’d been reading in the TriGamon. Her friends would totally freak if they knew what she knew – that there were real witches, sorcerers and Wood Folk, and a tall glamorous Guardian called Peonie who came out of a green mist! To say nothing of the fact that you really could travel to other worlds. But she knew she would never be able to reveal her secret. And even if she was allowed to tell them, she could never show them any of it, so they would never believe her. She just had to accept that keeping secrets was now a major part of her life.

  “Like what?” Claire asked.

  “Oh … you know … stuff,” she said absent-mindedly, checking some of the keys on her clarinet and hoping she looked too busy to elaborate.

  Mr Grennan tapped his ruler again, calling out the next page number – a welcome excuse for Willow to focus on her music book again.

  Halfway through their next piece a loud knock on the door interrupted the flow of Mr Grennan’s hand waving, and the music abruptly came to a halt. He made his way towards the door and as he opened it, she caught a glimpse of a balding man and a blonde woman she recognised but what were they doing here? She then noticed a figure standing behind them come forward to shake Mr Grennan’s hand. Willow’s eyes grew wide.

  Mr Grennan spoke to them for a moment and then turned back to face his class. “Okay, everyone, amuse yourselves for a few minutes – but quietly.” He lowered his glasses further down his nose to search amongst the students. “Willow,” he beckoned, “would you come here, please?”

  Willow could feel Harriett and Claire eyeballing her from behind as she rose. She gave them a sideways glance and shrugged before walking over to the door, all the while wondering why the Babbington family were at her school.

  Willow joined them in the Doorway. Her eyes met Hugo’s briefly before he looked away.

  “I take it you know Mr and Mrs Babbington and their son Hugo,” Mr Grennan said.

  “I do. Hi.” The last time she’d seen him was at least a year ago, and their conversation then had been fairly stilted. After being childhood friends for years, he’d suddenly clammed up and had barely told her anything about his boarding school in France. She’d decided he was being snooty about going abroad to school, and not somewhere more local, and they had not spoken since.

  “Hugo will be coming to our school and joining the orchestra next week,” Mr Grennan informed her. “He’ll be adding a bit of extra oomph with his bass guitar.”

  “Great,” Willow said. Her eyes darted from John to Helen, who were both smiling at her warmly, and then to Hugo. She was sure he had said something about being away for a few years. He was in the year above her so that meant he shouldn’t have been back for at least another two years.

  “The Babbingtons can’t stay any longer today,” Mr Grennan said, “so Hugo will be dropping back in again tomorrow to finish his school tour. Perhaps you could show him around, since I gather you two are old friends.”

  “Sure.” Willow smiled at Helen and John, who nodded appreciatively, but Hugo stood there, staring over her shoulder, as if he was watching someone do something much more interesting behind her. She began wondering if perhaps he had caused trouble at his old school and been expelled. Maybe he’d got into a fight? Or perhaps he hated his teachers and had convinced his parents that he had to leave. He’d always been good at talking his way out of trouble. Or maybe he was just home sick, but he didn’t look like it …

  “Right then – all organised. I look forward to hearing you play, Hugo,” Mr Grennan told him.

  Hugo nodded, forcing a smile.

  Willow headed back to her seat. Quite a few girls were whispering and staring in her direction.

  “Who was that?” Claire hissed. “He’s cute.”

  Willow picked up her clarinet and sat down.

  “Seriously cute,” agreed Harriet. She leant in to wh
isper behind Willow’s ear. “So! Who is he then? Don’t hold back!”

  Willow turned around to face them. “Just a family friend. Hugo. I haven’t seen him in ages – over a year.”

  “No ‘just’ about it. A fine example of beachy-blonde super cuteness,” Claire announced dreamily.

  “Yeah, what she said,” Harriett echoed.

  “You’re kidding, right? He’s like, a bossy big brother! Not someone you go ga-ga over.”

  “You can have him as your big brother,” Harriett said. “Not me.”

  Willow shook her head at Harriett. “Look at you! You barely glimpsed him and you’ve gone all … mushy.” She made a face.

  Mr Grennan tapped his ruler again.

  “Seriously, don’t go there,” Willow added before turning back to the front.

  “Too late, she cried!” Claire whispered. She stifled a giggle.

  As soon as the lesson was over and they were packing their instruments, Claire was straight in. “So what’s he like? How old is he?”

  “What?” Willow sucked in her annoyance. “Fourteen. And that’s it – the end.”

  “Okay, okay! No need to get so snappy,” Claire huffed. “Sheesh!”

  “Fine. Can we move on now? Please? He’s really not worth it.” Willow could hear the girls on either side whispering; she heard the words “cute” and “hunk” several times. Ugh.

  “Earth to Willow …” Harriett said during lunch. “Where are you?”

  “Huh? Nowhere – just …”

  “You’re somewhere else,” Harriett informed her. “Are you thinking about Hugo?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

  “No!” Willow lied. Annoyingly, since the music class, she’d been struggling to get Hugo out of her head for more than a few minutes. But she wasn’t thinking about him in the same way as Harriett or Claire.

  The bus trip home wasn’t any better either. Several girls asked Willow who the new guy was – word got around fast.

  “So does he have a girlfriend?” Rachel Sanders queried.

  “I don’t know,” Willow moaned. “I hadn’t seen him in ages till today, and it’s not something I’d ask him.”

  “Is he into sport?” Anna asked. “He looks pretty fit …”

  “No idea.” Willow gazed out the window in a show of vast disinterest. She vaguely remembered him liking rugby but she didn’t want to encourage the conversation. She couldn’t wait to get off the bus.

  Willow dropped her school bag on the kitchen floor. Her parents were sipping mugs of tea and discussing something at the table over several open books.

  “Hi. You won’t believe who I saw at school today! John and Helen – and Hugo!” She plonked herself down on a chair and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

  “Aah, so they’re enrolling already,” her mother remarked.

  Willow watched her parents exchange the silent look that only parents knew how to do, the one that could compress a long discussion in under a second. “What! You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We were going to,” she replied. “We didn’t think they’d get back until next week some time.”

  “Did he get in trouble or something? Why’s he back?”

  “No, he did not!” her mother rebuked. “Stop making up stories. Hugo has enrolled at your school because he needs to be back home for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “Willow, the Babbingtons are Light Keeper Helpers,” her father said.

  Willow stared at him. What? The Babbingtons – Helpers? Were they the words that had spilled out of her father’s mouth? Had she heard correctly? Her parents were looking at her expectantly.

  A light bulb switched on in Willow’s head as the significance of what her father had just said began to filter through. “They live in the only other cottage that borders the Sanctuary …” she said slowly.

  “Got it in one,” he said.

  “John and Helen?” She shook her head. “Are they my …?” In the silence that followed, Willow felt a rising panic. “But I thought you would be my Helper, Dad! If I end up trekking across the Universe I’d much rather have you helping me. John and Helen are really nice, but I don’t really know them … I don’t trust them the way I trust you …”

  “Of course I can help you, Willow. But if you become a Light Keeper, you’ll have a whole family of dedicated Helpers. You can throw me in as a bonus.”

  “Family?” And then it fully dawned on her. “No-o-o,” she groaned. “You mean Hugo’s a Helper too? Is that why he’s coming to my school?” The looks on her parents’ faces said it all. “Aagh. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

  Thomas frowned at his daughter. “He’s left the Academy in France to come back and be of service to you, Willow, so have a little respect. He’s probably left a big circle of friends too.”

  “You mean he’s been at the Keepers Academy!” Unbelievable! Her new secret world included Hugo – and he’d been to the Academy before her. “But we’ve hardly seen each other in ages. How am I supposed to trust him?”

  “Come on, Willow. You’ve known him for years,” her mother said. “He hasn’t been away that long.”

  “But if I’ve got John and Helen and you, Dad, I won’t need him! I mean, how many Helpers does a possible new Light Keeper need? And …” feeling really clever now, “surely, with me being so young, it would be better to have mature and responsible adult Helpers? And not a silly …”

  “Hmm, good play,” her father smiled, “but the decision relates to just that – your age. Where possible, best practice is to have Keepers and their Helpers at similar ages. And if you’re that concerned about maturity and responsibility, well, Hugo ticks both of those boxes. Look on the bright side: you’ll be able to talk to him about the TriGamon too. He’s read it.”

  She glared at her father, hot and irritated. So Hugo had already done that too! Great!

  “We know it’s all very sudden but so was your Awakening,” her mother said. “Hugo will be better suited for the task. You’ll just have to trust us on this.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Willow grunted, folding her arms across her chest. “He just turns up out of nowhere – and now he’s my Helper!”

  “The Keepers’ world is now a part of your life. The more you learn about it and the more involved you become, the more your feelings about Hugo will change,” her mother said. “You won’t share your experiences with John and Helen in the same way you will with Hugo.”

  “Yeah, can’t wait,” she mumbled.

  Her father gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s early days, Willow, and there are going to be many challenges ahead. This is but a small one.”

  “Fine,” she said, stiffly. “Guess it’s already done, whether I like it or not.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’ve got homework.” She left the kitchen and trudged upstairs to her room.

  Mixed Beginnings

  Walking to her locker with Claire and Harriet at school the next day, Willow spied Hugo at the end of the corridor with Mrs Guthrie, the school headmistress. Catching sight of Willow, Mrs Guthrie raised an imperious hand and summoned her over. Willow shoved her books in her locker. “Have to go,” she said to the girls.

  She wasn’t looking forward to giving Hugo a school tour. Knowing that he’d already been studying the Dream Keeper world and preparing for the possibility of being her Helper before she even knew any of it existed made it all that much worse. And now, here he was, nodding and smiling at the dragon headmistress like some teacher’s pet. Guthrie’s eyes, magnified through thick lenses, were fixed on Willow as she made her way towards them. She was a plump woman, though there was nothing soft about her. Her hair was pulled up and twisted in a tight grey knot at the back of her head, with not a single hair out of place. Willow was sure she modelled her appearance and demeanour on some steely headmistress from an old black and white movie. Someone really needed to tell her it was the twenty-first century.

  “Willow, I hear you have
volunteered to show Hugo around the school today,” she said in her trademark clipped voice. She looked at her watch. “If you set off now, you’ll have just enough time to do the tour and eat your lunch. Make sure you point out our newly refurbished science labs.”

  Hugo glanced at Willow.

  “No problem. I’ll take care of it.” Willow’s cheesy smile lingered until Mrs Guthrie turned away, barking something about upholding the school motto as she went.

  “She’s a bit special,” Hugo said.

  “She sure is. You’ll want to stay on her good side,” Willow advised. “Guthrie believes she sits on a powerful throne.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Hugo dug his hands in his pockets. “Sorry you got lumped with the rest of the tour. I can tell you’d rather be somewhere else.”

  “It’s fine,” Willow said.

  An awkward silence followed.

  “Look,” she launched in, “I know you’re my Helper and for some reason, my parents think this is a good idea. Me – honestly? I think I was doing just fine the way things were. No offence,” she added. She waited for Hugo’s retort but he said nothing. He stood there coolly looking at the kids milling around their lockers. She glanced at him curiously, wondering at his silence. “Right. Guess I’d better show you around then.”

  Claire and Harriet were watching them. “They’re my friends,” Willow said, with a nod in their direction. “We may as well get the introductions over and done with first.”

  The girls beamed as they approached.

  “Harriet, Claire, this is Hugo,” Willow said. She smiled at them with tight lips, before turning back to Hugo. “Hugo, this is Harriett Lesego and this is Claire Bellamy.”

  “Hi,” they chirped, as if they’d rehearsed the timing of their greeting to perfection.

  Willow rolled her eyes at her friends. How could a boy turn her friends into this?

  “Hi,” Hugo replied. “Here for the school tour.”

  “And I have to give the tour, so I can’t hang out today,” Willow added. “Sorry, gals.”