by Alex Bell
“Well, you’re not a servant to us,” Stella hurried to reassure him. An awful thought occurred to her, and she said, “You’re not a prisoner here, are you?”
“Oh no,” Ruprekt replied. “Genies are paid well enough for their services, and I was freed from my lamp long ago. You don’t get many captive genies these days.” He gave a haughty sniff. “But that doesn’t mean you necessarily get treated well either.”
“Well, we don’t expect you to be at our beck and call all the time,” Stella said. She gestured over toward the snow trolls beside the genie lamp, who all seemed to have grouped together in one big ball of troll and gone to sleep in a tangle of hairy feet and big nostrils. “Just ask the trolls to pick up their signs any time you don’t want to be disturbed.”
“You’re most kind,” the genie replied, giving her a bow. “A true lady.”
“Stella’s a princess, in fact,” Beanie said. “An ice princess.”
“How glorious!” Ruprekt said. “I’m delighted to serve you, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, there’s really no need to call me that,” Stella replied. “Please, just call me Stella.”
“As you wish,” the genie replied.
He snapped his fingers, and a little bubbling cauldron of hot chocolate appeared beside each of the explorers’ plates. A little toy witch perched on the side of each cauldron, stirring the hot brew with a sugar broomstick.
They took their seats and ate their breakfast quickly. Stella was eager to head off as soon as possible. They absolutely had to catch up with Felix. The little toy witches stirring their drinks made Stella feel even more desperate to be away, especially when one of them hopped onto her broomstick and started flying around the room on it.
Noticing Stella’s expression, Cadi said, “What’s wrong?”
“Just the witch,” Stella said, gesturing toward it and trying not to shudder. “They’re such horrid, evil things.”
Cadi looked a little surprised, and even Stella was taken aback by the force with which she’d spoken. But a witch had killed her parents and now threatened Felix, too, so she really felt that she had every reason to hate them.
Without any further ado, they packed up their stuff, collapsed the magic fort back down to a blanket, said good-bye to the ice dragons smoking away in their fumaroles, and set off, heading farther up Witch Mountain. The air felt bitingly cold after the snug warmth of the fort, and they were all glad of their snow boots and thick cloaks.
Stella noticed that she wasn’t as cold as she should have been, however. On the last expedition she’d worn layers and layers of sweaters and thermal trousers, just like everyone else, and she’d still been cold most of the time. It was no less icy on Witch Mountain, and yet Stella wasn’t wearing explorer’s garb like before, only her gray dress beneath her cloak. As it was a traveling dress, it was made from wool, and Stella had thick, sparkly snowflake tights on underneath, but this shouldn’t have been enough to keep her warm in the Icelands. The others shivered, rubbed their hands, and stamped their feet far more than Stella did. She hadn’t even so much as needed to put on her gloves. And that worried her. It had to be something to do with the fact that she was an ice princess, and—if her new magic powers were anything to go by—becoming more and more of one all the time.
“Just up ahead is the Forest of Enchanted Broomsticks,” Cadi said, glancing around at the others. “That’s where I need to find the witch I captured earlier and take one of her hairs.”
“And after the forest?” Shay asked. “What comes next?”
Cadi shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “I’ve never ventured farther than that before.”
“Is the forest safe?” Beanie asked.
“Not particularly,” Cadi replied. “It’s an enchanted broomstick forest in Witch Mountain, after all. It’s full of all kinds of dangerous things.”
“Oh good,” Ethan said. “That sounds like fun.”
“I don’t think it sounds like fun at all,” Beanie said, looking concerned.
“It is fun, actually,” Cadi said with a grin. “It wouldn’t be so interesting if it were safe in there.” She clambered up onto the saddle on Gus’s back.
“That walrus looks even more absurd wearing a pith helmet,” Ethan remarked, shaking his head. “It’s no wonder you were turned away from the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club if you turned up with that thing in tow.”
Cadi stuck her tongue out at the magician. “At least Gus doesn’t spit at people,” she said.
Nigel immediately spat at a nearby jack-o’-lantern, whose expression clearly offended him.
They hadn’t been traveling long before they reached the Forest of Enchanted Broomsticks. There was no missing it. The trees loomed large on the mountain before them, looking rather like an ordinary forest at first glance. But when they got closer, they saw that the long brown trunks weren’t trees at all, but giant broomsticks. And instead of leaves or branches, they had bristly brushes that stuck up into the sky like dead twigs, creating a thick canopy that made the forest itself dark and full of shadows, despite the sunlight. There was a strange, still feeling about the place—an absence of the rustling and scurrying and chirping that you might usually expect to find in a normal forest. They were all aware of it. Koa stood close to Shay’s side with her ears back, which was always a bad sign. Stella couldn’t help thinking that this was definitely not the type of woods where teddy bears went to have their picnics.
Cadi didn’t seem to mind, however, and looked back over her shoulder to give the others a wide grin. “Here we go, folks,” she said with a wink. “Best keep your wits about you.”
At that moment an explosion in the sky alerted them to another confetti vulture marking Felix’s position on the mountain ahead of them. It was on the other side of the Forest of Enchanted Broomsticks, confirming that they were going in the right direction.
The explorers, the witch hunter, the camel, the shadow wolf, and the walrus entered the forest quietly and cautiously. Even Gus seemed to understand that he mustn’t make any noise, refraining from his usual bellows. There were four members of the expedition, however, who failed to appreciate the need for stealth. The jungle fairies’ chant of doom started up within seconds. …
“Fee-fi-fo-fo, fee-fi-fo-fo, fee-fi-fo-fo!”
“Oh dear.” Cadi looked around to stare at the fairies, who were chanting in the dip between Nigel’s humps. “I wouldn’t let them carry on like that, you know. There’s all kinds of things in this forest that are better off not knowing we’re here.”
Ethan reached up and snatched the drums from Mustafah, who shook his fist at him in an agitated manner. The magician shook his fist right back. “You stupid fairies are going to get us all turned into toadstools!” he hissed.
“Here, let’s give them the flags,” Stella said before the fairies started shooting them all with stink-berries.
Cadi dug the tiny explorer flags from her pocket and handed them over. Mustafah threw the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club flag away rather pointedly, but they kept hold of the other four flags and waved them about a bit, although it was more of a sullen movement than an excited one this time.
They continued deeper into the forest. The broomsticks around them were extremely tall and thin, reaching up three hundred feet or more into the sky. The canopy of bristles was so thick that it kept out the snow as well as the light, and they found their boots crunching on crisp bristles that had come loose and fallen down. The place smelled of damp wood and stale air and, unfortunately, camel breath—all those jumping cactuses seemed to have given Nigel a bad case of indigestion.
It was so dark in the forest that Stella had to retrieve the fire-pixie lamp from her bag and poke the pixie awake to light their path. They couldn’t see all the way up to the bristles clearly, but every now and then they heard the rustle of something moving.
“What’s up there?” Shay whispered to Cadi, peering into the gloom.
“Bats probably,” the hun
ter replied. “Maybe some owls. There’s lots of bats and owls on Witch Mountain. Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.”
“What about rabbits?” Stella asked. “We were told that Jezzybella has been bringing poisonous rabbits onto the mountain.”
“Really? I’ve never seen a rabbit here,” Cadi replied.
“Magic forests are never good news for explorers, even when they’re not on Witch Mountain,” Beanie said. “I expect there are all kinds of terribly dangerous things to be found in here, from rock monsters to gobble-grogs to—”
“My witch should be just through here,” Cadi said, guiding Gus through the bristles.
They came out in a little clearing, where they found the narrowest, most crooked-looking gingerbread house Stella could have imagined. It was leaning at such an angle that it was a wonder it managed to stay up at all. With chocolate roof tiles, barley-sugar windows, gingerbread walls, and a candy-cane fence, it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.
“Come on,” Cadi said. “She ought to be waiting around the back.”
The explorers followed the witch hunter to the other side of the house, where there was a stone garden, a little rock pool full of fat toads, and what appeared to be a wishing well.
“Don’t throw any pennies into the wishing well,” Cadi warned as they went past.
“Why not?” Ethan asked.
“A troll lives there,” she replied. “And he gets ever so cross if people chuck dirty old pennies at him.” She glanced back and said, “Oh, and I wouldn’t let the jungle fairies feast on the house like that. It’s got a magic spell on it that will make anyone who eats it terribly ill.”
While the four explorers hurried to drag the jungle fairies away from the house, Cadi slipped off Gus’s back and walked, spurs jangling, over to a broomstick tree. There was a tree house perched, rather precariously, between its bristles, and Cadi picked up one of the pebbles at her feet and threw it, with expert aim, up to the house. The tree house was obviously made of gingerbread too, because the pebble caused a cascade of gingery crumbs to come showering down on the hunter, making her sneeze.
The jungle fairies loved the taste of the big house, and it took all four explorers to prize them away. Stella caught hold of Mustafah just as he succeeded in breaking a massive slab of gingerbread from the windowsill. She had to admit that it did smell incredibly good, like it had just been freshly baked.
“Don’t do it,” she warned, and tried to pluck it from Mustafah’s hands.
The fairy was too quick for her, however, and shoved the entire brick of gingerbread into his mouth in one piece.
“Oh, Mustafah.” Stella sighed. “Cadi says this will make you ill. You should never trust witches’ gingerbread, you know.”
The jungle fairy clearly didn’t share her concern, however, because he swallowed the gingerbread down in one self-satisfied gulp.
“I think Harriet’s eaten some too,” Shay said, peering at the fairy in his hand.
“Let’s just hope that jungle fairies have stronger stomachs than humans,” Stella said. “Best keep a tight grip on them for now.” She peered down at Mustafah. “I’m sorry, but it’s no use squirming like that,” she told him. “This is for your own good.”
The explorers joined Cadi at the base of the tree house. The witch hunter had a fine collection of gingerbread crumbs amassed in the brim of her hat from the pebbles she’d thrown.
“Drusilla!” she hissed. “Where are you?” She glanced at the others and said, “Drat, I think she must have wandered off.”
“You didn’t just leave her free, did you?” Stella asked, surprised. “Surely you at least tied her up?”
“No, but she promised she’d wait here,” Cadi replied.
“You can’t trust a witch’s promise.”
Cadi shrugged. “Never mind. She can’t have gone far. We’ll probably come across her if we push on.”
The explorers continued on their way. Almost as soon as they left the house they came across a foul-smelling swamp. The thick green liquid oozed and bubbled, emitting a horrid smell of rotten eggs and dirty old feet. There must have been hot springs underground, because the surface steamed. The stench was so strong that it even seemed to have affected the broomstick trees, which weren’t tall and straight here, but curled and leaned at odd angles. Even the bristles had been affected, growing longer and stragglier, hanging down toward the swamp in thick coils of hairy rope.
“Don’t stick your hand in the swamp,” Cadi whispered to the others. “There are trolls living in there and they’ll drag you right in if they can.”
“You must think we’re utterly brainless,” Ethan said, one hand covering his nose. “Who in their right mind would stick their hand into that foul thing? I would rather die than dip so much as a toe in it.”
After a little while the path led steeply up a very high bank before running out completely, and they found themselves facing the most rickety-looking bridge Stella had ever seen. Felix had told her before that rickety bridges were all part of exploring, and it was some kind of rule that bridges in unknown lands were never strong and new and sturdy, but always wobbly and shaky and unsound.
“That’s what makes them such fun,” he’d said.
Stella really wasn’t too sure about this bridge, however. It consisted of rotten-looking wooden planks tied to two lengths of rope that seemed like they might unravel at any moment. Each end was tied to one of the bent broomstick trees, and the bridge stretched right over a vast expanse of bubbling green swamp.
“This has got to be some kind of cruel joke!” Ethan groaned.
“Looks like it’s the only way across,” Cadi said cheerfully, rolling up her sleeves, throwing her mass of dreadlocks back over her shoulder, and seeming pretty delighted with the whole affair.
She nudged Gus forward, but Ethan hurried around to plant himself in the walrus’s path. “No, no, no,” he said. “You are not going first on that thing. I mean, look at it! It’s as big as an elephant! There’s no way the bridge will bear his weight.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Cadi replied. “If worst comes to worst and he crashes through, then we can all climb onto his back and he’ll swim across. Gus is an excellent swimmer, even in swampy water like this.”
“Nigel can hardly climb on his back, can he?” Ethan said, pointing at the camel, who had curled his lip in disgust at the smell of the swamp. “And didn’t you say there were trolls?”
“Well, what would you suggest, then?” Cadi replied. “Since you’re so smart?”
“I’m going first,” Ethan said in a firm voice. He held up a hand and said, “I know I’m being selfish, and I’m sorry. But every time someone puts weight on that bridge they’re weakening it further, making it even more likely that the whole thing will just collapse. Since I’m the one who can’t stand being dirty, it seems only fair that I go first.”
“I don’t like being dirty either,” Stella protested indignantly.
“No, but you don’t mind being covered in polar bear slobber,” Ethan shot back. “We should go one at a time, and I’m first.”
Before anyone else could protest or argue with him further, Ethan stepped onto the bridge. The moment his boot touched the first plank, it swayed, groaned, and creaked beneath his feet in a most alarming manner, and the magician had to stick both arms out to keep his balance. Looking at the great length of the bridge stretching out before him, Stella couldn’t help wondering whether he’d manage to make it to the end, especially as there were no handrails to hold on to.
“Ethan, I’m not sure about this,” she called. “Perhaps we should look for another way across.”
“It’s too late now. I’m doing it,” Ethan replied.
He’d managed to walk several feet out onto the bridge and was about halfway over when Beanie suddenly said below them, “I’ve found another way. There’s a tunnel that goes under the swamp. We don’t need to cross the bridge.”
The ot
hers all turned around and saw that Beanie had scrambled off the bank to the marshy grass below and had, indeed, unearthed the entrance to a tunnel. It had been hidden by a thick hanging curtain of bristles from one of the broomstick trees, but now they saw that it led straight underneath the swamp. It was too dark to tell whether it reached the other side or not, but everyone agreed it was worth a shot. No one wanted to navigate an uppity camel or a witless walrus across the bridge.
Stella called Ethan’s name, meaning to tell him that they’d found another way, but he waved his arm at her irritably without looking back.
“Would you stop distracting me?” he snapped. “Anyone would think you want me to fall in!”
“Just leave him,” Shay told her. “He’s more than halfway across now. And we don’t know how safe this tunnel is, or whether it’ll get us across.”
They scrabbled down the bank to join Beanie, who looked at Cadi and asked, “Do trolls live in the tunnel, too?” He tugged at his pom-pom hat anxiously. “Trolls are very dangerous to explorers, you know. There have been troll-related deaths and maimings and injuries linked to all four of the explorers’ clubs. The desert-dwelling sand troll torments the Desert Jackal Explorers’ Club, while the salty ridge web-footed water troll has been known to attack submarines belonging to the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club. Ice trolls are second only to yetis in the destruction they’ve wreaked on the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club, while the jungle-dwelling, nose-picking, bogey-eating trolls of Monkey Jungle have spoiled many a picnic of the Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club.” He peered at the tunnel and said, “So, are there likely to be trolls in there, do you think?”
The hunter shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I’ve never been in any tunnels on Witch Mountain before.”
“I suppose it’s likely to have all the same hazards as the caves,” Beanie said glumly, before ticking them off on his fingers. “Biting bats, nibbling rats, poisonous snakes, poisonous spiders, poisonous—”
