“There must be a way to be rid of it,” Maggie said. “Isn’t there?”
Hazel stared up at her with narrowing eyes. As she waited with bated breath, the witch snapped her book shut, making Maggie and Peter both flinch.
“The solution is a powerful spell,” Hazel murmured.
Maggie raised a brow. “Yes?”
“And it requires a trio of ingredients that are almost impossible to collect.”
Determination strung through Maggie’s voice. “Almost.”
The witch grinned before glancing over at Peter. “I like her.”
The King of Neverland beamed. “Me too.”
“There are three things needed to cast the spell,” Hazel began in a loud, ominous voice. “There is a MirrorLeaf, found only along the dryad’s back. It is simply a leaf, but look at it right, and suddenly it is capable of peering into the past and the future alike.” She moved around the room as though she were in the middle of a dance. “And of course there is a nymph’s veil! The only thing imaginable to render you completely invisible. But you couldn’t possibly forget the goblin’s Carved Copper Eye.” Hazel paused in front of them. “Without it, you might never see what true value lies ahead.”
Maggie blinked a few times as the witch’s rhyme came to an end. It wasn’t like a poem at all, but there was something musical about it, something that kept Maggie hooked on her from start to finish. The words lingered in her mind long after they had been said, as though they had been written within her.
“If we can gather all the ingredients,” Maggie began, “Can you cast the spell for us?”
Hazel paused. “Well, if you insist.” She pointed a finger at Maggie, her eyes narrowing skeptically again. “Why can’t you do it yourself?”
Maggie’s brow shot up. “M-Me? How could I?”
“You’re…” Hazel’s finger fell. “You’re one with magic, aren’t you?”
A startled laugh came from between Maggie’s lips. “S-Sure, but I’m a human. I’m not from here. I only sing and…and…” she felt herself trail off as heat rose to her cheeks.
“I don’t know what you were told back in the human lands,” Hazel stated, her firmness almost frightening, “But you’re at least half a witch. There isn’t such a thing as a human with magic. I’ll promise you that.”
Maggie was too at a loss for words to respond. She simply stared, her mouth left ajar.
“Never mind that,” Hazel muttered. “Just…You’ve got a friend here if you have questions, alright? But you two ought to be off now, if you’re going to save the moon coral.”
“Thank you,’ Maggie managed.
Peter quickly led the way out of the witch’s cottage, pulling Maggie along behind him. She could only stare blankly ahead, the witch’s last words swimming around her head. It couldn’t be possible. Itwasn’tpossible. How could it be? Besides, it wasn’t even what mattered. There was only the fate of the moon coral, and Maggie was beyond determined to see it as it should be.
“So,” Maggie said, “What now?”
Peter pulled her against his chest, sweeping one arm beneath her legs. “First things first, Magpie,” he whispered. “We find the MirrorLeaf.”
And they shot into the sky, leaving only a plume of dust behind.
7
They didn’t fly very far, it seemed, or the forest happened to stretch on forever.
Where Hazel’s cottage sat in a rather delightful spot in the woods, with a slurry of different kinds of trees to keep her company, Maggie and Peter found themselves in a much darker area. The trees were thick but few in number, their treetops so tall and lush with leaves that the sunlight was entirely blocked out from above. Only streams of light managed to make it through, making it a wilderness of shadows and curious sounds. Everything rustled in every which direction, making the hairs stand up on Maggie’s neck. She felt scatterbrained as she jumped at every sound, her attention pulled wherever a twig snapped, wherever a leaf settled into the dirt.
“Magpie.”
She almost yelped, but slapped her palm against her lips, stopping the sound before it had the chance to make it out. Maggie whipped around to face Peter, catching his surprised expression before he gave her a small, sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Are you alright? You’re so skittish, like a rabbit.”
Maggie would’ve laughed if they were anywhere else. “Well,” she whispered, stepping closer to him when a series of bushes rustled beside her, “Doesn’t this frighten you?”
