Starfell: Willow Moss & the Lost Day

by Dominique Valente

  “But how does that help us?” asked Feathering. “If we can’t get inside? Can a dragon?”

  Sometimes shook his head. “I think Wolkana is sealed off from all magical creatures.”

  Willow blinked. “Maybe not.” Something had just occurred to her.

  “What do you mean?” asked Sometimes.

  She grinned at them. “Moreg said whenever she’s lost, she looks inside her pantry and that’s where she finds the answers. . . .”

  They all looked blank, so she continued. “Moreg’s cloak—which she was wearing when they took her—it’s a portal to the pantry in her home. If we can get inside that pantry, we can get to her!”

  “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant,” said Nolin Sometimes.

  “So can you show us the way to Moreg’s house?” Willow asked Sometimes.

  “Hmm, I was afraid you were going to ask that,” said Sometimes, before he keeled over backward again.

  Willow fished the StoryPass out of her pocket. The needle was currently aimed at “Turning Point.” It then swung around to point to “One Might Have Suspected As Such,” and she sighed.

  “I wish he’d stop that,” said Feathering. “This is no time to fall apart.”

  Willow looked from the StoryPass to Nolin Sometimes’s still form, then said, “I think that’s the problem, you see. . . .”

  “None of us knows where it is,” agreed Sometimes, sitting up and rubbing his head.

  “How is that possible?” asked Feathering, incredulous.

  Willow stared. “Well, she is Moreg Vaine, you know?”

  The dragon just stared. “Oh, yes, quite.”

  “She’s the most powerful witch in Starfell. There are rumors about where she lives . . . ,” said Sometimes.

  “Some say it’s in the Mists of Mitlaire, or the Lake of the Undead,” agreed Willow.

  “But the truth is, no one really knows,” continued Sometimes. “And she’s fiercely secretive; it’s not like she has friends we can just go and ask—” He turned to look at Willow; then his eyes went pale and white.

  “Except, what if she does?” Willow finished for him, guessing he’d just seen her memory of when Moreg had first come to her cottage. “Moreg told me that long ago she and my mother were friends. That they grew up together in Ditchwater. . . . What if my mum knows where she lives?”

  Sometimes started muttering to himself. “I’ll just have to let Harold know that I might be gone for a while. He’s capable of feeding himself . . . and I doubt he’d be up for the journey. . . . Anyway, it’s Sunday night, so the Fair is probably at the Midnight Market now—” Sometimes turned to Willow. “Looks like we’re going to have to go to the Traveling Fortune Fair,” he said.

  Willow didn’t bother asking him how he knew where her mother was or what the next stop on the traveling fair was likely to be—he must have read her memories. Her stomach plummeted in sudden fear at the thought of facing her family and having to explain why she’d lied . . . and why she was now in the company of a dragon and a forgotten teller. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  13

  The Midnight Market

  UNDER COVER OF darkness Feathering set Willow and her friends down in a wooded valley close to the Midnight Market, which was one of the stops of the Traveling Fortune Fair. Landing in a valley a little away from the market had been Willow’s idea, as she’d pictured the screams of terror that arriving in the center of the fair on a dragon might have caused.

  Admittedly, for one glorious second, she had also pictured the look on Camille’s and Juniper’s astonished faces when they saw her on the back of the dragon . . . but then she had decided, somewhat regretfully, that shocking them wasn’t worth risking their ultimate cause.

  “I’ll wait here for your return,” said Feathering.

  “Me too,” said Oswin, using a paw to cover a yawn and turning over inside the hairy carpetbag.

  Willow shot him a look, then picked up the hairy bag, and he grumbled, “Why does ’e get to stay?”

  “Because Feathering is a dragon—and therefore really hard to disguise. You, however, are not. You’re coming with me.”

  There was a harrumph, but he agreed. Mainly because she promised him something to eat along the way.

  Hairy bag in hand, Willow and Sometimes followed the sound of people’s voices, the scent of wood fires, and the twinkling lights until they’d found the Midnight Market.

  String lights cast their amber beams on tents of all shapes, sizes, and colors. People wove in and out, their arms filled with goods they’d bought or traded. Many of the goods looked dangerous, or deadly . . . the sort of thing you might expect only to get at midnight. . . . There were curly wots’ tails, which, if slipped inside a bed, found their way onto a person’s neck and began to strangle them, and glass flowers that had a strange sweet scent that could put someone into an enchanted sleep forevermore.

  Willow passed two women who were having a heated argument. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Gardelia—I never took your money. Even if I can’t recall right now what I did that Tuesday, that doesn’t mean I took your purse. . . .”

  “Yes it does!” screeched the other woman, red in the face. “I saw you eyeing it on Monday—and it’s now missing, so you must have!”

  Near one of the bigger tents, a wizard with purple dreadlocks, wearing multicolored trousers, was intoning, “Heva spice, heva spice! Throw it at your enemies, watch their faces melt!”

  “This place is a little shady, isn’t it?” said Willow. “Can’t believe this is one of my mother’s stops. . . .”

  There was a sound like “Mimble mumble,” and she turned and saw that Nolin Sometimes’s eyes had gone all white and glassy, and he was just about to pass out in a dead faint. “Oh no!” cried Willow, catching him.

  “Absolutely bonkers,” said Oswin, looking out from the hole within the bag.

  “It must be all the people—all their memories!” guessed Willow. “Now what am I going to do?”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” came a rather familiar voice from behind, a voice that caused Willow’s ears to burn a bright red. “You are going to explain what on Great Starfell you are doing here.”

  Willow turned around slowly. A tall, stern-looking witch dressed in maroon and gold with several shawls across her shoulders stood with her arms crossed. She had long black hair down to her waist, golden hoop earrings, and blazing green eyes. Raine Moss.

  Willow cringed. “Hello, Mum.”

  A few minutes later, Willow was being dragged into the back of her mother’s large red-and-gold traveling wagon. Her sister Camille, meanwhile, had moved Nolin Sometimes to the guards’ tent with her mind.

  Facing Willow now, Camille crowed, “Ooooh, you’re in for it now. . . . Dad sent a raven asking if Mum had lost her mind taking you along to the fair . . . and of course she hadn’t!”

  “Enough, Camille!” said her mother, holding up a hand. Her green eyes flashed fire. “Your sister is right, though. We’ve been worried sick! You left your father a note saying you were joining us—why? And where have you been? Why did you leave the cottage? Who was that old man? Explain yourself,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “He’s not an old man!”

  Willow’s mother’s nostrils flared. “Fine, the man with the white hair then. Who. Is. He?”

  Willow sat in a small chair across from her mother and sisters, took a deep breath, and tried to explain. “I. Well. You see, Moreg Vaine came to the cottage, looking for help.”

  “Moreg Vaine came to our cottage?” scoffed Camille.

  “Yes.”

  Her oldest sister, Juniper, looked incredulous too, but she tried to understand. “Really? But why?”

  Juniper and Camille started speaking at once. But their mother held up a hand for silence. “She was looking for me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you just send a raven? I could have come back, or she could have met up with us on the road.”

 
; Willow shook her head. “Um, no—she came looking for me.”

  “You?” said Juniper. Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

  Camille laughed. “Moreg Vaine came to look for you? What was wrong? She’d lost her marbles?” She snickered.

  Her mother shot Camille a look, and she stopped snickering at once. “Go on,” she said, though it was clear she too was struggling to believe Willow.

  Willow frowned. “She needed my help. It’s last Tuesday. You see, well, it’s gone missing, and she needed me to help find it.”

  “Last Tuesday has gone missing,” echoed Raine, somewhat incredulously. Her mother turned back to her, breathing heavily. “And where is Moreg now? Can she confirm this at all?”

  “You can’t tell me you believe this story—” said Camille.

  Her mother shot her another silencing look.

  Willow continued. “She—well, she got arrested.”

  “Arrested!” Juniper exclaimed.

  Camille gasped. “The most powerful witch in Starfell, arrested?” She started to snicker, and Juniper joined in.

  Raine looked at Willow, her expression sad. “Willow, I know you think that I don’t take you with me because I don’t want you with me, but that is just not true. You are too young to be here. But you didn’t need to make up some farfetched lie to get yourself here.”

  Willow stood up. They were wasting time. “I’m not lying!”

  An angry bright-orange fur-covered head popped out of the carpetbag and growled. “Oi! Yeh cackling hens, she’s telling the truth!”

  Camille’s eyes widened, disgust smeared across her face. “You brought that—that thing along with you? I mean, I thought I smelled something horrid, but I assumed it was just you. . . .”

  Willow’s eyes flashed. “He’s more useful than you. At least he listens.”

  Willow’s mother pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “If that were remotely true, I’m sure we’d notice that the day was missing—”

  “But just think—what were you doing on Tuesday? Please, Mum, you’ll see what I mean.”

  Willow’s mother closed her eyes, then pinched her nose again. “Willow, I’m disappointed in you. I’ve never taken you for a liar before.”

  Camille smirked at this, and Willow fought the urge to scream. Her mother continued. “We still have a few things to finish up here before we go home tomorrow morning,” she said, her mouth in a thin line. “So for tonight you will stay with a friend of mine. In the morning I will take you home myself.”

  Willow’s mouth fell open. Why wouldn’t she just believe her? “No—please, you must understand! We have to save Tuesday—I have to find Moreg’s house—you’re the only one who knows where she lives. That’s why we came here. Mum, I really need to do this. If we don’t, it could mean the end of the world.”

  There was silence. Then Camille and Juniper burst out laughing again.

  “Can you believe this? The end of the world! She’s lost it, honestly,” scoffed Camille.

  Willow’s mother shook her head, muttering to her daughters. “I blame myself. Left her alone too much with your crazy grandmother, and now look. . . .” She broke off, looking a bit sad.

  Ten minutes later, Willow found herself in the home of her mother’s friend Rubix, who seemed to take the craft a bit too seriously. The house was shaped like a pentagram, and everything in it, from the stove to the sofa and the kitchen table, was made to fit precisely into one of the points and nooks and crannies of the star-shaped house. The walls were a pleasing blue and sunset pink, a bit like a galaxy. There were even little speckles of stars all over the floors.

  Sitting across from Willow was a rather short girl of around her own age, who was wearing a nightgown that was at least two sizes too big. She had very long curly hair, pretty skin the color of a hazelnut, and large round glasses that rested on the edge of a small button nose. Next to her was a black cat, who was eying Willow’s hairy suitcase with some interest. Oswin was currently muttering “Oh noooo,” though rather softly.

  “This is Essential Jones,” said Rubix. “I’m afraid I have to dash off—need to get some ratwort from the market—but Essential here will make up a bed for you. Mind you two go straight to sleep, though, and don’t go anywhere.” She gave Willow a kindly look as she continued, “At your mother’s request I’ve put a charm on the door—just in case you try to escape, you understand.” And with that she left.

  The girl was eyeing Willow with interest, her brown eyes huge behind the frames. “So, you’re one of Raine Moss’s children?”

  Willow nodded, her face a bit glum. “Yes. Not one of the ones you would have heard about, though.”

  Essential shrugged. “Still, to come from a family of witches, that’s something. I was the first one in mine for ages. . . . That’s why I was sent to Rubix—the law, you know,” she said with a small shrug.

  Willow looked puzzled, so Essential explained. “Well, if no one in your family has a magical ability and one of your children develops a fizz of magic, the law is that they have to be sent to someone who can help them control it. So I was sent here just after I was born, to Rubix, as she was the closest witch. My mother was really upset—not only because I was sent away, but because after five boys I was the only girl. See, that’s how I got my name. My mother said, ‘You can’t take my girl, she’s essential.’ And Rubix took it a bit literally.”

  Willow grinned. Then frowned. Something Moreg had said before she was taken by the Brothers of Wol floated in her mind.

  The witch had said, Remember, practical makes perfect. . . . And when you think of it, a little rain is essential for uncovering what you might need.

  Willow jumped out of her chair. Unless she’d meant Raine and Essential—as in two people.

  “I think I was supposed to find you!”

  Essential stared at her as if she’d gone mad.

  Willow fished the StoryPass from within her pocket. The needle was currently pointed to “One Might Have Suspected As Such,” and she grinned.

  Essential blinked. “You were supposed to find me?”

  She nodded. “I think that’s what Moreg Vaine wanted.”

  Essential was still frowning, so Willow explained about everything and how they needed to find Moreg’s house.

  “Moreg said she knew my mother—Raine. Which is why I came here, because I thought my mother would be able to tell me where Moreg’s house is—but maybe she also wanted me to find you—something Essential.”

  Essential blinked. “But . . . but I’m nothing special. I mean, I can’t do much besides freeze things, and that’s only for about a second, if it’s going slow enough.”

  “Freeze things?”

  Essential turned to the cat, who was licking his paw, and flung out her hand. The next second the cat froze, midlick, his tongue sticking out at them.

  Essential gave a rueful sort of grin. “It’s a bit hit and miss, to be honest. If I’m upset, it’s a bit more powerful. Once I stopped a bucket of water from being thrown at me when I was walking outside. I mean, it was just for a second; I still got drenched, and I got this,” she said, lifting her hair and showing Willow a scar, which was shiny and pale against her dark skin, on the side of her head where the bucket had hit her.

  Willow shrugged. “Maybe that’s enough. I’m nobody special—I mean, all I do is find lost things—socks mostly, or wallets and keys. Maybe you don’t need big magic to save the world? Maybe you’ve just got to be willing to try?”

  Essential nodded and then stood up. “Okay.”

  “So you’ll help me?”

  Essential pushed up her glasses and grinned. “Yes.” Then she stopped. “Well, um, let me just get out of my nightgown first.”

  When she returned, she was wearing a black dress with little gold moons and silver stars all over it that Willow couldn’t help admiring.

  “Ready.” Willow smiled.

  “Ready.” Essential nodded.

  But when they t
ried the door, just as Rubix had warned, it was charmed shut.

  “Now what?” cried Willow.

  14

  The Hag Stone

  IT WASN’T JUST the door; the windows were locked too. Nothing would budge, and even when Willow tried breaking one of the panes of glass with a large cast-iron pot from the kitchen, nothing happened. It didn’t even crack.

  Essential sighed. “It’s all been charmed shut. That’s Rubix’s gift—she can charm objects to do what she wants.”

  Willow frowned, her eyes huge. “But we need to get out of here! I’ve got to find Nolin Sometimes, try to get him awake. Hopefully he’ll be able to read my mother’s memories so that we can find Moreg’s house!”

  Oswin cleared his throat, like he was trying to get her attention, but Willow was distracted when Essential suddenly smacked her forehead. “I have an idea!” she cried, dashing away to fetch something from inside her bedroom.

  Oswin reached out a paw and tapped her hand. “Not now, Oswin,” she said as Essential came back into the room holding an ordinary black stone with a hole in its center.

  “It’s a hag stone,” she explained, a grin splitting apart her face.

  “A hag stone?”

  There was a huff from the bag and some dark muttering.

  Essential raised an eyebrow and Willow mouthed, “Don’t ask.”

  Essential shrugged. “Yes. It can help you see things that are magic—things that pretend otherwise. But it can also undo charms—especially magic that has already been cast, like Rubix’s charm to shut the door!” She looked at Willow and shook her head. “Actually, you’ll never guess who I got it from! Something you said reminded me of it . . . even though I’ve had it for about four years. . . . I mean, it’s not like I needed it with Rubix; she can cast off charms too. . . .”

  Willow raised an eyebrow. “Moreg Vaine?” she guessed.

  Essential nodded. “She gave it to me at a fair—said that it might come in handy one day. I mean, it was Moreg Vaine, so of course I kept it, but I’d sort of forgotten about it till now.”