When daylight came, Adam had another shock. Below the towers stretched a too-familiar landscape. Gone was the previous day’s scenery; gone, even the river. In its place was the wilderness of stagnant pools and tangled gorse. Adam dashed from the window and found Deductio. “Quick!” he said, “Come to the window. There’s something wrong.”
“Of course, it’s wrong,” Deductio smiled, “but what did you expect?”
“We're in the Land of Poverty,” Adam said.
The old wizard nodded. “After War comes Poverty,” he said grimly.
“What about the Hag?” Adam asked anxiously.
“I think you’d better go out and face her,” Deductio said flatly. “I have an idea that the time has come.”
“Meet her?” Adam felt a cold grip on his heart. “That’s about the last thing I was planning to do!”
“And, yet,” said Deductio with a thin smile, “there is a time and a place for everything. Good-bye, Adam.” The old wizard turned away from the boy and vanished from the room.
Adam went after him, but there was no sign of him on the stairs, either. In fact, there was a silence which struck him as odd. He dashed down to Emily’s room, throwing the door open, shocking her into wakefulness.
“What’s the matter?”
“Em! We’re in the Land of Poverty!”
“Eh?” Emily sat up in bed and pulled her silver hair out of her face.
“And we’ve got to face the Hag—Deductio said so!”
“What!”
“Get up, look out of the window!”
Emily stood looking out of the window for a long time. She turned to Adam. “Of course,” she smiled, “this world is governed by the same laws and principles as ours; it’s what you’d expect.”
“Is it? Well, I'm glad you understand.” Adam shrugged and, frustrated, gave up trying.
Some minutes later, they had checked both Towers and found no-one. There was no sign of Lar nor Palustric, nor the wizards. They were alone.
“It’s what you’d expect,” Emily repeated.
Adam gritted his teeth and refused to ask why. “Yeah. Of course!” he said.
They set off once more into the wilderness, Emily shivering in the cold air. She looked back longingly at the Towers, where she thought of her warm bed, but, of course, the Towers, too, were gone. Emily nodded, smiled and kept on walking—it was only to be expected.
Soon, the Hag, in her weeds, was standing in front of them. Her colourless eyes glistened with evil as she bared her white, pointed teeth.
“So, we meet again, my lovelies, I knew we would—”
Adam had fought hobgoblins to the death, but he hadn’t been so afraid as at this moment. He cringed behind Emily, his heart thumping wildly.
“I see there’s no fairy magic to save you this time, the Hag hissed maliciously, pointing a long-nailed, curved finger at Emily’s wrist. She cackled at the thought of turning them into ghouls, taking a menacing step towards them.
Emily turned to Adam and smiled sweetly, without the slightest trace of fear. She smiled wider at his pale face. Taking his hand, she said, “I think it’s time to leave.”
Adam and Emily saw themselves as if from the outside. The girl watched one of her hands take her brother’s and the other point to a dragonfly circling their heads so that its wings almost touched Adam’s nose. Seated on the dragonfly was a woman dressed in white. Tiny and perfectly formed with a golden crown above her long, silver hair; she smiled at Emily.
This time, Emily waved back and smiled. She clutched Adam’s hand tightly, and her words came in their own tongue. Adam wished to tell her that he preferred the tongue of the Other World, but the air vibrated and whirled. It felt as though they would be swept off their feet and into the air while the grip of Emily’s hand became painful. The Hag and the wilderness in front of them blurred as they spun, and the air became opaque like a steamed-up mirror. The mirror cracked across while the gap widened, all else spinning and whirling around it. The scene within the crack was firm and well-defined while the outer, opaque part swirled like an impenetrable fog. Adam and Emily found themselves inside the gap as if sucked in, but Emily swore she hadn’t taken a step. There was no sign of the dragonfly, but they were standing on a green in the middle of familiar woodland. Behind them stood a copse in which was their secret den.
The most bewildering thing for them was that nobody had missed them. Whereas they’d passed several years in the Other World, only a few hours had passed in theirs. Adam pestered Emily for several days, but she wouldn’t explain. She smiled secretly, saying, “You’ll work it out, then you’ll have a lovely surprise!”
Adam was growing more and more frustrated by the day, but one night, as he lay in bed, an answer came.
He understood, as Deductio promised he would. Everything fell into place easily. The secret lay in being a simple person; the humble soul is free to fly where it will, to pass through barriers of time and space. That was why he saw Lar’s hat on his chair and how he found the pixy waiting patiently with Palustric. Simple really! They were not an illusion; Emily was with them, too, because she already knew. What a welcome they gave him! Silver-eyed Emily kissed him, telling him that he could go whenever and do whatever he wanted as long as he kept his guard up against the deceitfulness of Pride. Who knew what new adventures awaited? The whirligig keeps on spinning.
Epilogue
Emily gazed admiringly at Jayne’s black leggings sculpting her long legs. Previously, those legs were a source of envy, but Emily now knew better than to succumb to the green-eyed monster.
“I’ve spoken to Miss Harrington, Jayney. I told her you should represent the school in the high jump. You’re much better than me; remember, you had tummy-ache on the day of the trials.”
Jayne stared in amazement at her former best friend, her eyes uncertain and hopeful.
“Did you honestly speak to her, Em?”
“I told you. She agreed and said you can compete. It’s better for the school, isn’t it? You’re sure to win, Jayney.”
“Oh, Em! You did that for me!”
“We’re best friends, aren’t we? It’s only right.”
“Oh, Em!” Jayne threw herself into her best friend’s arms. When their heads came together, Emily whispered in her ear, “Friendship is worth more than treasure, isn’t it so, Jayne?”
To the taller girl, it seemed a curious way of speaking but sincere. When Jayne stood back, just for an illusionary moment, it seemed to her that Emily’s eyes changed from silver to their normal blue. Jayne put it down to a trick of the light or her indescribable happiness.
The euphoria of regaining her best friend was surpassed only by winning the high jump competition and raising the cup with her, whose gritty performances had won the sprint and the long jump. When Emily played down her part in the school’s victory and praised Jayne to all and sundry, the girl wondered if she was living in an alternative and better world.
THE END
An appeal to readers: please help me out—
I sincerely hope you enjoyed Whirligig. I would greatly appreciate your feedback with an honest review.
First and foremost, I’m always looking to grow and improve as a writer. It is reassuring to hear what works, as well as receive constructive feedback on what should improve. Second, starting out as an unknown author is exceedingly difficult, and reviews go a long way toward making the journey out of anonymity possible. Please take a few minutes to write an honest review.
Best regards,
John Broughton
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About the Author
John Broughton was born in Cleethorpes, Lincolnshire, UK in 1948: just one of the many post-war babies. After attending grammar school and studying to the sound of Bob Dylan, he went to Nottingham University and studied Medieval and Modern History (Archaeology subsidiary). The subsidiary course led to one of his greatest academic achievements: tipping the soil content of a wheelbarrow from the summit of a spoil heap on an old lady hobbling past the dig. He did many different jobs while living in Radcliffe-on-Trent, Leamington, Glossop, the Scilly Isles, Puglia and Calabria. They include teaching English and History, managing a Day Care Centre, being a Director of a Trade Institute and teaching university students English. He even tried being a fisherman and a flower picker when he was on St. Agnes Island, Scilly. He has lived in Calabria since 1992, where he settled into a long-term job at the University of Calabria teaching English. No doubt his lovely Calabrian wife, Maria, stopped him being restless. His two kids are grown up now, but he wrote books for them when they were little. Hamish Hamilton and then Thomas Nelson published 6 of these in England in the 1980s. They are now out of print. He’s a granddad, and happily, the parents wisely named his grandson Dylan. He decided to take up writing again late in his career. When teaching and working as a translator, you don’t really have time for writing. As soon as he stopped the translation work, he resumed writing in 2014. The fruit of that decision was his first historical novel, The Purple Thread, followed by Wyrd of the Wolf. Both are set in his favourite Anglo-Saxon period. His writing is now divided between straight historical novels set in that period and writing incorporating fantasy, such as the Jake Conley psychic Investigator series of seven novels or Angenga, a time travel novel linking the ninth century to the twenty-first.
Historical novels:
The Purple Thread
Wyrd of the Wolf and In the Name of the Mother (2-book set)
Saints and Sinners and Mixed Blessings (2-book set)
Sward and Sword
Heaven in a Wild Flower, The Horse Thegn and The Master of the Chevron (St Cuthbert trilogy)
The Rebel Scribes
John the Old Saxon (soon to be published)
Jake Conley novels:
Elfrid’s Hole
Red Horse Vale
Memory of a Falcon
The Snape Ring
Pinions of Gold
The Serpent Wand
The Beast of Exmoor (soon to be published)
Fantasy novels
Angenga
Whirligig
Whirligig Page 27