by Angie Sage
The largest group that the treehouse had played host to for some time was gathered around the fire basket, which was suspended above a circular hole in the middle of an open platform. Silas, Sarah, Galen, Jenna, Ariel, Star, Tod, Ferdie, Oskar and a yellow-eyed tiger were sitting on rugs strewn over the rough wooden planks. Silas threw another log on the fire and tongues of flame leaped up into the branches above.
“Careful, Silas!” Sarah shouted. “You’ll burn us to the ground!”
Silas threw a bucket of water on the flames and watched the glowing cinders drop through the fire basket to a huge pile of ash on the Forest floor far below. Then he took some skewers of meat from the outer embers of the fire and offered it to their guests. Galen pulled a face at the sight of what she called “flesh.”
“Anyone for roast squirrel?” Silas inquired cheerily.
Everyone, apart from Galen and a loyal Sarah, was very much for roast squirrel. Tod, Ferdie and Oskar were ravenous. Jim Knee—who Jenna had decided to keep as protection—eyed the tiny pieces of meat with disdain and slunk away. There was good hunting to be had in the Forest, he could smell it.
Tod gazed up into the dark tracery of branches above. She saw the moon riding high in the star-filled sky and a shiver ran through her as she remembered the last time she had looked at the moon through the trees. She glanced at Ferdie and Oskar, who were sitting wrapped in blankets, quietly talking to each other. Tod figured that they still didn’t totally understand what had so very nearly happened to them. Which was, Tod thought, for the best.
At the end of supper Ariel and Star reluctantly got to their feet. “We must go now,” they said.
“Oh, must you?” Silas said, sounding very disappointed.
“You heard what they said, Silas,” Sarah snapped.
Ariel smiled at Silas. She liked his mischievous blue eyes. “We are sorry to leave you, Silas Heap. But it would not be good for us to be absent tonight.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” said Sarah.
Jenna helped Ariel and Star drop the ladder down and handed them an extra gold coin each for their night’s work. As they went she gave them a message for Septimus, telling him she, Tod, Oskar and Ferdie would be back the next morning. Jenna watched her witch spies descend the ladder, pleased with them and their night’s work. She was still shocked by what had so very nearly happened. How right she had been to keep a close watch on the Wendrons, she thought. If she had not . . . Jenna shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. It did not bear thinking about.
THE WITCHFINDER
Jenna returned to the fireside to see Galen taking a small brass tube from one of her many leafy pockets and handing it to Sarah, saying excitedly, “You must see how well your wonderful gift works. It really is a genuine WitchFinder.”
Sarah took the tube and went to the edge of the platform where she put it to her eye like a telescope. Galen, slower on her feet, joined her. “Oh!” Sarah gasped under her breath. “I can see them both. Look, there’s Ariel running . . . and Star just behind her. They blend into the night so well. You could never see them without this. Never. And did you know it shows their footprints, too?”
Galen smiled. “There’s no hiding place for witches with a WitchFinder,” she murmured.
“It’s amazing,” Sarah breathed. “I can see them all the way through the trees. Their cloaks kind of glow and the trees almost disappear.” She turned to Galen. “I’m so glad it works. You can never be sure when you buy at the Port Magyk Market.”
“I knew it worked when I caught sight of Morwenna a few nights ago,” Galen said, smiling.
“You don’t need a fancy gadget to see Morwenna,” Silas commented, joining them. “She’s what you might call obvious.”
“Silas, you are so rude!” Sarah sounded rather pleased. There had been a time—many years ago now—when Silas had thought Morwenna Mould rather wonderful. And Morwenna had felt much the same about Silas. But those times were long past, as was the truce that had then existed between the Wendrons and the Castle. Sarah gave the WitchFinder back to Galen. “Galen, I do wish you would come back to the Castle with us,” she said. “It feels so much more dangerous than when I lived here.”
“Times change, Sarah dear. That was nearly thirty years ago.”
“Exactly,” Sarah said. “And you are not getting any younger.”
This did not go down well with Galen. “Be that as it may, Sarah Heap, I belong in the Forest and this is where I intend to stay. I will not be hounded out by a coven going to the bad.” Feeling that she had been a little harsh with Sarah, Galen added, “Anyway, dear, thanks to your WitchFinder I shall be well prepared for any trouble.”
The rest of the evening passed happily. It reminded Tod of the beach fire gatherings she, Oskar and Ferdie used to have at home in their PathFinder village. It ended in much the same way too, with people telling increasingly scary ghost stories while the moon sank slowly, the night air began to bite and everyone’s thoughts turned to how much warmer it would be in bed.
The accommodation in the treehouse consisted of a collection of pods made from woven willow branches bent into spheres and covered with fir fronds. They perched like huge nests high in the canopy of the three tall oaks and were connected by rope walkways and precarious arrangements of ladders and planks. Galen roosted like a large scruffy hen in a tiny pod precariously placed at the top of the middle, tallest oak. Silas and Sarah had one of the pods nearest the platform because Silas did not enjoy balancing along the ropewalks.
Galen now set about settling her guests for the night. She gave Jenna her own pod next to Silas and Sarah. Tod, Ferdie and Oskar, to their delight, were directed to a large pod high up in an outer oak, with its own platform and private ladder to the Forest floor.
The pod had a circular opening over which hung three wolverine skins. Inside it was knee-deep in dry leaves and moss on which was placed a neat pile of yet more wolverine skins and some brightly colored blankets that smelled of goat. The pod felt warm and safe, as indeed it was. Galen took care that the outer branches of her three oaks never touched those of any other tree. Any creature that wished to invade the treehouse—right down to the smallest leaf leeches and tree shrews—must ascend the trunks and get past the rings of fiendishly sticky bark glue, which Galen had painted around her trees. And so Tod, Oskar and Ferdie had the luxury of being in the middle of the nighttime Forest while feeling perfectly secure.
Drained by the events of the day, Ferdie and Oskar wrapped themselves in the goat blankets, curled up in the soft, springy leaves and fell asleep at once. But Tod was not tired at all. Despite the terrifying experiences of the Witch Circle she was excited to be out in the Forest and away from the urban feel of the Castle. She sat in the entrance of the pod, looking out and thinking how good it was to be free from the rules and regulations of the Wizard Tower and back in the middle of nature once more. The fresh smell of the air, free from the damp moldiness of the Forest floor, made her feel wide-awake. Perching in the canopy of the Forest felt not unlike being out at sea. The swaying of the topmost branches in the breeze felt like the rocking motion of a small boat and set Tod wondering what her father, Dan Moon, was doing that very moment. Was he out on a night fishing expedition watching the sky just as she was? Was he thinking of her right then, just as she was thinking of him? Tod longed to show Dan all she was doing and she hoped that one day soon, when all was safe from Oraton-Marr, he would be able to come through the Ancient Ways to the Castle once again.
Thinking of the sea reminded Tod that Galen had loaned her the WitchFinder for the night. “Keep a lookout for Morwenna Mould,” she had said. “She’s up to something, mark my words.” Tod put the WitchFinder to her eye like a telescope and began to Watch the Forest.
It was strange seeing the Forest through the WitchFinder. The trees became quite insubstantial: their thick, dark trunks looked pale and gave the appearance of being almost transparent. In contrast Tod saw that the animals—and what a wonderful variety
there was—were sharply defined, and seemed almost ultra real, as though someone had carefully drawn around them with a thick black pen. It was fascinating. Tod spent a happy ten minutes Watching a family of tree shrews fight over a supper of a large leaf leech and then, having dropped most of the creature onto the Forest floor, settle into their nest with much fussing and petulant nipping.
Slowly, Tod grew sleepy. She was about to reluctantly put the WitchFinder away when a faint green glow appeared on the edge of her circle of vision. Tod held her breath with excitement—it was a witch. She was coming along the path and she was heading this way. Remembering how Galen had twisted the thick brass cuff of the WitchFinder to get a close-up view, Tod did the same and found she was looking straight into the bright blue eyes of Marissa. She almost dropped the little brass tube in shock and was about to pull down the wolverine skin door flaps when she remembered that there was no way Marissa could see her. Tod was safely hidden in a pod at the top of the tree and was hundreds of yards away, which was way too far for even the most skillful of witches to Feel that she was being watched.
Fascinated, Tod Watched Marissa wind her way along the Forest path, the WitchFinder picking out the witch’s cloak and making it glow a bright greenish yellow. Marissa was hurrying along the path, glancing over her shoulder every now and then, and it seemed to Tod that the witch feared she was being followed. Marissa was up to something, of that there was no doubt.
Soon Marissa was below, rushing past the broad foot of the first of Galen’s great oaks. The witch glanced upward and Tod held her breath, even though she was pretty sure that Marissa was more worried about being seen than seeing, for the witch pulled the hood of her cloak up and shrank into it as she hurried by.
Marissa hurried on through the trees and Tod was impressed by how silently she traveled. Sound from the Forest floor traveled easily upward, yet she heard not the faintest whisper of a footfall. As Marissa drew away and ever more trees obscured the view, the bright glow of her cloak in the WitchFinder eyeglass began to grow dull, and Tod had to concentrate hard to follow the witch. After some minutes Marissa was no more than an occasional vague glimmer—and then she was gone.
Tod was sure that Marissa was up to something. She remembered the Witch Mother’s comments about the sorcerer and the deal she had with Marissa. Tod had the strangest feeling that the sorcerer might be Oraton-Marr and if that was the case, then here was another link to the Egg of the Orm.
Tod made a sudden decision. She knew she was being foolhardy, but she didn’t care. She shoved the WitchFinder into her deepest pocket, pulled a wolverine skin around her for warmth, then dropped the emergency rope down. She felt the weighted end hit the ground, then with the practiced movements of one used to climbing up masts and the sides of tall houses to hang nets, Tod was down the rope in seconds, before she had time to talk herself out of what she was doing. She stood for a few moments on the Forest floor and looked up at the treehouse complex, seeing the friendly glow from the embers of the fire. Tod felt a brief flicker of fear and pushed it aside. She had a witch to follow. And fast.
IN THE NIGHTTIME FOREST
Tod pointed the WitchFinder at the ground. She told herself that if it did not find Marissa’s footprints she would climb straight back up the rope and forget the whole thing. Tod was not sure whether she was entirely pleased when a glowing outline of a foot sprang into the WitchFinder eyepiece. Not more than eighteen inches in front of that print was another, then another. Left, right, left, right. There was no excuse now—before her lay a clear trail.
Heart beating fast, Tod set off. She had learned from Oskar how to travel silently through a forest but she was not as skilled as he, and every time a twig snapped under her foot her heart jumped in fear. Her way was clear at first because Marissa had followed a well-worn path, but soon Tod came to a large, round rock where the path continued but Marissa’s footprints did not. Tod stepped off the path into the mulch of thousands of years’ leaf fall, across which Marissa’s footprints glowed like a line of beacons. In the deep softness, Tod’s footfalls were silent, and she soon became aware that all around her was silence too. A feeling of awe crept over her; she felt as though she was walking through a very ancient space.
Tod was now approaching a close-knit line of trees that presented a solid wall of trunks and branches. She stopped in front of two extremely tall, straight trees that stood remarkably close together, like sentinels. Marissa’s footprints passed between them and Tod knew she must do the same, but her way was barred. Two great boughs were growing across her path, and a tangle of smaller branches formed a tightly woven net. Tod wondered how Marissa had managed to slip through—it did not seem possible.
Unable to rid herself of the feeling that the trees were staring down at her, Tod looked up at them. “Please,” she whispered. “Please let me pass.” In the tops of branches Tod could hear a rustling that spread far in front of her, as though the trees were talking to one another. “It’s really important,” Tod said. And then it came into her mind to say, “I mean only good for the Forest.”
The rustling above increased as though a strong wind was blowing through the treetops, and Tod began to feel scared—something very eerie was happening. Suddenly she felt very alone and exposed. What was she doing, following a witch deep into the nighttime Forest? Was she totally crazy? Tod’s certainty left her. All she wanted to do was to get back to the treehouse. Fast.
As she turned to run, a movement of the two sentinel trees caught her eye and Tod stopped in amazement: the great boughs blocking her way were beginning to rise. To see a tree moving was awe-inspiring. As the arms of the trees lifted, Tod saw those of the pair of trees behind beginning to do the same and she knew she must go on. She stepped between the first two trees and moved slowly forward down the avenue of towering trees. Ahead of her she saw the rising branches rippling like a long wave. As she moved down the long, straight avenue she became aware that the branches were lowering behind her. There was no turning back now. A sense of awe stole over Tod as she followed Marissa’s glowing footprints through the trees. She understood that she had been allowed to enter a very private space. She was not sure why, but she did remember Galen saying that the Forest had its way of knowing what was good for it.
Tod had been prepared for something magnificent at the end of the avenue—some kind of tree temple, maybe. But as she stepped beneath the last of the raised boughs she found herself in a small clearing in which there were what appeared to be three large and unruly heaps of wood partly covered with turf, each with a ramshackle door in it. They looked, Tod thought, like the kind of camps she, Ferdie and Oskar used to build on the edge of their own forest, the Far, back at home. They certainly did not look like anything special. And where was Marissa? Tod put the WitchFinder to her eye and saw the witch’s footprints leading to the middle heap. Puzzled, Tod stared at the ramshackle door and the random piling of the log and branches. Was this where Marissa lived? She supposed it must be. A wave of weariness came over Tod. She had been so sure that Marissa was up to something important. Now it seemed that all she had done was risk the dangers of the nighttime Forest just to follow Marissa back to her scruffy dump of a home. How stupid was that?
Tod watched the door for some minutes but the little hut was silent. Marissa was clearly already fast asleep. Feeling very foolish and not just a little scared at the thought of the journey through the Forest back to the treehouse, Tod turned to go. The first pair of tall trees stood before her, impassive. Their branches hung low, the two huge boughs barring the path back along the avenue, their twigs intertwined in a tangled net. “Please . . . let me pass,” Tod whispered, spooked by the sound of her voice in the deep silence of the clearing. But the boughs did not move. Tod tried not to panic; she told herself that she had had to wait a few minutes for them to move before. And so she stood there, waiting patiently, but nothing happened. “Please,” she whispered. “Please let me pass . . .”
It was then that Tod heard be
hind her the creak of a door opening. She swung around to see Marissa gingerly stepping out. In the shadow of the sentinel trees, Tod froze. Marissa had yet to see her; the witch was looking back over her shoulder and speaking to someone. Her voice sounded strained. And then Marissa was out and stepping aside to let whoever was in the little hut come out too. How two people had fit, Tod had no idea. The hut was tiny.
Marissa cast her witchy glance over the clearing, searching for danger—and saw Tod. The witch’s blue eyes lit up so bright that they seemed to glow inside her head. “Stay right there,” she said to Tod in a low, urgent voice. “Do not move. Do not say a word. It will be all right, I promise.”
Tod stared at Marissa. She knew enough about the witch not to trust any of her promises. She glanced behind her but the boughs with their twisted network of twigs were as impenetrable as ever. Tod had no choice but to stay where she was anyway.
Marissa was now helping someone out of the hut and as the figure stepped into the clearing Tod could not suppress a gasp. There was no mistaking the close-cropped steel-gray hair and the deep-set, dark green eyes. It was the sorcerer, Oraton-Marr.
Marissa shepherded Oraton-Marr—resplendent in blue silks—into the clearing. “It seems,” she said, “that my threats have worked. The Witch Mother has thought better of her double-crossing plot. See, she has left the Apprentice here for you. As I suspected she would.”
The sorcerer eyed Marissa suspiciously. “You never said you suspected that,” he said. “You told me she had the Apprentice captive and wanted to do a deal with me. And I told you—”
“That you do not do deals with witches,” Marissa finished for him. “And why should you, Your Highness, when the very mention of your name clearly strikes fear into their hearts?”
