As the bonebeast lunged, Jemmy raised the blessed blade, Deliverer, that glowed with an ethereal, blue light in the darkness.

Tira screeched at him in agitation, her high voice drowning out the miserable, gloating tones of the Frog.

Jemmy wasn't listening to her. He was focused on smiting the snapping jaws of the living fossil.

Tira chucked one of her glowing green pebbles at the bonebeast, and it exploded against the swishing bone tail, which snapped in two, the end part falling at Jemmy's feet. The fossil-thing had been about to knock him to the floor with a tail lash, although thanks to the witch-girl, it no longer had a tail with which to try that.

Tira doubled up, retching and clutching her abdomen. "Ohh dear, Oh Shekka!" She was shuddering uncontrollably, and Jemmy felt a keen stab of anxiety.

"Foul witch," croaked the Frog, "you've spent the last of your blasphemous magic. Now you will die."

Gloom leapt from the witch's shoulder and onto the skull of the bonebeast and hammered on it with his little fists. "Bonehead! Try and get me." He thrust his paws into the sockets of the reptilian skull. The living fossil reared up with a terrible clattering sounds, momentarily distracted. Jemmy hacked at the old bones with Deliverer, and they splintered beneath the blessed blade.

The snapping jaws lunged at him once again, but this time he was ready and sidestepped them, bringing Deliverer down hard on the spine of the skeleton. There was an explosion and a wave of darkness swept over them, so for an instant, Jemmy could see nothing. Then it passed and the fossil thing crumbled into a pile of bone debris.

Jemmy ran over to Tira who was convulsing on the floor and gathered her up in his arms. "Tira! Tira!" He cupped her cold face in his hands. She gazed back at him, her blue eyes wide and panicked. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps.

"Easy!" said Gloom, scampering over to them. "She's overexerted herself, that's all. Witches can't lose their magic, it's part of them. But if they try to do too much, it gives their systems a tremendous yank."

Jemmy kissed the witch's green forehead as she clutched at him. "We've won, Tira."

"Jemmy…" her tremors were starting to subside and her breathing steadied, but her eyes were still very wide. "Y-You're alright. So brave… So beautiful…" She was babbling. Would she be alright?

The pink Frog hopped over the debris strew floor. "The disgrace! The degradation! Reduced to this by a girl! If only I could still wield a blade, I'd spit her green gizzard."

"Shut up, or I'll splat you," said Jemmy, glaring at the Frog and clenching his fist.

"Oh no, you should let me do the splatting," said Gloom. "Don't worry, Frog. I'm a male imp, so that shouldn't be too ignominious for you."

The Frog hopped away, evidently deciding on caution rather than further defiance.

Gloom kicked aside rubble and splinters of reptile bone. "There may be treasure here, now the bonebeast is gone. There could be something a witch or an imp could use."

"Alright, go ahead," said Jemmy. He rocked Tira in his arms and she rubbed her cold cheek against his and gave a little moan.

Gloom lifted up a jet amulet, carved to resemble a human skull. "This is magical. Can't guess what it's for, though." The imp burrowed through the debris again and held up a little, stone bottle. "Would you look at this? A restorative potion. The kind of thing a witch might use to restore her lost strength."

"How do you know?" said Jemmy.

"Please, I'm the imp. Not you," said Gloom, waving the bottle in the air, then removing the little stone stopper. "You're not magic in the least. You don't get to question these things."

"G-Give it to me please, Gloom," said Tira, her voice wavering.

"How do you know it'll work?" said Jemmy, uneasy. "He just dug that up from the fossil-beast bones and rubbish."

"I'll have to trust my familiar," said Tira, taking the tiny bottle from the imp and swigging it back in one go.

Jemmy immediately thought he should have prevented her somehow. She shuddered and held him tight, then took a deep breath, then gripped Jemmy's shoulders and smiled at him. "I can stand now, dear. It's alright." She kissed him on the cheek, and then got unsteadily to her feet and scooped up the pink Frog, putting him in the pocket of the new frock the elders in Arill had given her. "Stay put, you little villain."

The strange quartet picked their way through bones and rubble and down a roughly hewn passageway, until they came to the source of the strange illumination in that underground place. It was a ball of iridescent light, four feet in diameter.

"The bonebeast was guarding something. This must be it," said Gloom from Tira's shoulder. "Put here by magic users, Shekka only knows when."

Jemmy narrowed his eyes against the glaring light. In the centre of the spectral sphere, he could just about make out the shape of a book of some kind. "Then that is a magic book?"

Tira gazed at it wide-eyed. The ghostly light played oddly over her green face. "Could it help us?"

"Could be the most potent weapon imaginable," said Gloom gravely.

"Then how do we get it out?" said Jemmy. "We have a witch with us. We can use it."

"Uh… OK. I'm still a beginner," said Tira.

"Magic spells can work by willpower alone," said Gloom. "It's not all neat and ordered, Mistress."

"Magic spells," grumbled the Frog. "They make me glad I can't read."

"Wouldn't be of any use to you either way, froggy," said Gloom.

"How do we break this ghostly shell?" asked Jemmy, walking round the sphere.

"Your sword looks effective against something as prosaic as this," said Gloom.

Jemmy raised Deliverer and struck the spirit sphere, which disappeared in an explosion of actinic light, accompanied by the howling of spirit voices, as a tremendous rushing wind filled the tunnel. The book that was previously suspended at the heart of the sphere dropped to the floor with a thud. It appeared to be bound in black leather, with the image of a leering face on the front. Jemmy leaned down to pick it up, but he couldn't. It was as though there was an invisible barrier in the air around the tome.

"A book of Black Magic," said Gloom. He peered at it and reached out a clawed hand, with the same result as Jemmy. "A potent weapon. It might be used to stop the Beast. I can't claim it, but a witch could, Mistress."

Tira nodded and reached out her green hands, lifting the tome.

The Frog poked his blunt, pink head out of her pocket. "Is that bound in human skin?"

Tira squeaked and dropped the tome on the ground, staring at it, her wide blue eyes aghast.

"The slimy villain's just winding you up," said Gloom, shuffling his feet impatiently. "It's just black leather."

Jemmy patted Tira's arm. "We need all the weapons we can get if we are to fight the evil Nazek. And the greater evil, the Beast."

Tira bit her bluish lip and nodded. She picked up the leather tome and put it in her satchel. The motley group climbed a winding passageway that led upwards until there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and a fetid smell in the air. They emerged in a marsh. The permanent murky haze in this place obscured the hills. The air was damp and there was a pervasive smell of mud and rotting weed.

Gloom glared at the Frog in Tira's pocket. "Slimy little so-and-so! You said the escape route led to the woods."

"If you sink, it's all the same to me," croaked the Frog.

Jemmy held Tira's clammy, green hand tight in his as they picked their way across a narrow path of drier ground. Gloom was perched on the witch's shoulder, and the evil Frog remained in her pocket. Vile-smelling marsh gas burst from the fetid swamp that surrounded them. The mire was like a maze. Paths crossed and re-crossed and they could not know for sure where they were. Faintly glowing lights danced over the marsh ahead. Tira's breath started coming in ragged gasps, and Jemmy could see her green face was glowing with a new sheen of perspiration.

"We'd better rest," he said decisively.

Tira gave him a small smile and nodded, her blond hair rippling and bouncing.

They sat together on a rotting log in a small clearing. Tira put a hand to her chest and drew a deep breath, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You'll be casting spells again in no time," said Jemmy. "I have faith in you."

She smiled, crinkling her shiny green nose.

Growing on the log was a dull grey fungus, known as Death's Shroud because of its shape and colour.

"Is Death's Shroud poisonous or beneficial?" Jemmy asked, pointing at it.

"Hmm. Dunno." Tira twirled a strand of her hair in her green fingers. "Death's Shroud. What a name. I didn't know it was called that."

"Some witch," came the miserable little voice of the Frog in her pocket. "Squeamish and useless at everything."

"Not useless at defeating you, Froggie," said Gloom. "You'll never rob or kill again – unless it's a fly. As for the fungus, it can be used in an anti-dote," said Gloom. "But it's only one ingredient."

"Oh! We'd better take some then," said Tira, wrapping some of the fungus in cloth. "I wanna make antidotes."

They continued their journey through the mire. Strange croaking noises and animal cries echoed across the fens as they wandered the endless, twisting paths. Suddenly, there came the sound of something moving. The witch and the warrior stopped dead, glancing around anxiously at the stagnant pools.

"We may have been waylaid," said Gloom darkly.

At that moment, a group of little green, two-legged amphibians with crude, flint speaks leaped out of the reeds. They were each only two feet tall, but their mouths were ringed with sharp fangs.

"Uh oh! Mudclaws. They intend to eat us," said Gloom. "Little amphibious bandits."

"Creatures after my own heart," gloated the Frog. "But green and horrible, like the witch."

Tira reached into her pocket for her pebbles.

"Tira, don't risk exhausting yourself. Let me handle it," said Jemmy.

But at that moment, there was a crackling sounds, and iridescent lights, all the colours of the rainbow, flashed around them. The mudclaws fled back into the reeds and now a woman approached them, treading so lightly, she seemed to skim over the path. A woman with bright green skin and dressed in what looked like brown gardening clothes… A witch then, like Tira. Jemmy could see that. She even had long blond hair, like his friend, although she was clearly older, and she had a snubbed nose.

Jemmy curtseyed. "Well met, good lady."

Tira curtseyed rather less elegantly. "Yes, um… it's lovely to see you. We need help."

The witch clapped her green hands together and beamed at them, her blue eyes sparkling. She had rather large front teeth. "My dears, what brings you to Blackmire? This is no place for nice children like yourselves."

She laid her hands on Tira and Jemmy's shoulders, grinning at each of them in turn. Jemmy smiled to see that there was a smudge of dirt on her shiny green nose. Tira might also be scatter brained enough to get dirt on her green face and not realise.

"We are on a quest, dear lady," said Jemmy. "We're a witch and a warrior on a quest against a great evil. But now we're lost, as you can see."

"Yeah," said Tira, nodding vigorously. "Can you help us? We wanna get out of this marsh."

The witch woman beckoned to them by waggling all her green fingers in a way Jemmy hadn't seen before. Probably a witch thing. They seemed to have a lot of power in their fingers. "Come, sister in Shekka's light and you, handsome young warrior. Just follow me, and we'll be out of this old mire in a jiffy."

She grinned more broadly and raised her green hands to the sky, making weird, waggling movements with her fingers. "Pyewackit! Come to mother!"

Something shimmered in the air above them and an imp manifested there. It had the body of a monkey, like Gloom, but unlike him, it had iridescent blue and green plumage like a parrot and hovered in the air.

"Follow me!" squeaked the imp. "Gotta fly."

"Show off!" Muttered Gloom.

The witch linked arms with Tira and Jemmy and they followed Pyewackit along a path of firm ground. "I'm Willow," she told them. "You haven't told me your names, my dears."

"Jemedar. Or Jemmy, some make it. Jemmy will do."

Tira gave Jemmy a sidelong smile. "I'm Tira. And this is Gloom, my familiar." She reached up with her left hand and stroked Gloom, who was sitting on her left shoulder.

"We're on a quest against the Infernal Beast," said Jemmy.

Willow gave a start and stared down at him. Her beaming smile had vanished and her blue eyes were wide and shocked.

"We keep having trouble," said Tira. "Um… we need help."

"You think so, Mistress?" said Gloom drily. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"I'll say you need help," said Willow. "Come with me. We have to go to my cottage. Right now."

She led them on a quick route through the marsh to the outskirts of a village. Dusk was falling. Willow took them to a strange, ramshackle building, shaped like a dome. In the cottage, candles were already burning. The scene was exactly how Jemmy might have imagined it. A cauldron bubbled over the fire in the hearth, while sprigs of herbs hung from the ceiling. On a round table, was a book bound in black leather, while lying on a rag-rug in front of the fire was a chubby piglet.

"Mother! Mother!"

A little sandy-haired boy surrounded by a group of four feather imps ran up to them. Willow gathered him up in her arms, kissing him on both cheeks. "Aw, Jasper, did you miss mother? I missed you."

Tira was gazing at them, tilting her head a little to one side and twirling a strand of her blond hair in her fingers. Jemmy could see tears shining in her blue eyes. He squeezed her cold, green hand.

"You've got dirt on your nose, mother," said Jasper. "Hones'ly, can't you play without getting dirty?"

"You little imp," said Willow, cuddling the boy to her and stroking his hair.

"Imp?" Said Gloom loudly. "If he's an imp, then what am I? How existential does it get?"

Willow turned her head to smile at them. "Jasper is my ward, little Gloom. He's pure human and non-magical, like Jemmy is. 'Imp' is just a pet name."

"That was a mistake anyone c'n make, Gloom," piped Jasper. He turned his little face to Willow. "When I say something nice that isn't true, that's being polite, right?"

Jemmy and Tira chuckled and Willow laughed, a great shrill laugh, her shiny green nose crinkling. "Shekka help you, my little monkey." She and her ward rubbed their noses together.

"Oh, it's charming when he's blunt," said Gloom huffily. "Double standards."

Willow grinned round at them again. "It was a bit lonely, living here, even with my familiars. Jasper needed a strong guardian, so now we're happy together."

00O00

They sat around Willow's table, Jasper seated on Willow's lap. Willow had pressed drinks on them, which she said contained moonflower, honey, and a relaxation spell.

"Now tell me all about your quest, my lovelies," said the witch, drumming her fingers on the table.

"Willow," Jemmy began, "this tale may not be suitable for your little one."

Willow laughed, crinkling her eyes and reached over to touch the tip of his nose with a green finger. "You're so sweet. But I want to prepare my boy for the horrors of this world, even if he can never be magical."

Jemmy and Tira exchanged a look and came to an unspoken decision. They began to relate the main points of their quest to Willow, although Gloom interrupted from time to time with wry comments.

As they told her about the episode in Arill, Willow's blue eyes widened with horror, and when they reached the part about the Canker, she exclaimed: "By Shekka."

"How many monsters like that Canker are there, mother?" piped Jasper.

"I don't know, love," said Willow, her brows drawing together.

"Well you could fin' out," grumbled Jasper. "I need to know."

Willow ran her green fingers through his sandy hair. "We all do."

When they had told Willow of their adventure in the bandit stronghold, Tira drew the Frog from her pocket. "I changed the bandit leader, the Master Brigand, Willow. It was better than killing him, but it still felt so wrong to do that to anyone, even a villain." She shuddered.

"Better?" croaked the Frog. "Better to die than be cursed by a girl's hand. The ignominy!"

"Either is better than you deserved," said Gloom.

"I need help," said Tira. "With magic, it's so difficult to always know the right thing to do."

Willow nodded gravely. "As a new witch, you need guidance. Of course you do. I would be happy to give it."

Tira grinned. "Oh Willow! I… Please, yes, yes!"

Jemmy felt his mood lighten. "I thank you Willow. You are uniquely qualified to help my friend with her burdens. But no one can lighten mine."

Willow's brows drew together. "How come?"

"Yeah, what're your burdens?" said Jasper. "Bet they're not that big."

"Jemmy feels guilty 'cause that villain Nazek tricked him," said Tira in a rush. "Even though he's not guilty and I say he's not. He says he has to go on a quest that might get him killed, and he hasn't even got magic." She stuck out her dark grey bottom lip.

"I see," said Willow softly. "Jemmy, don't be so sure that an experienced witch can't help. I can try something, but…"

"What is this but?" said Jemmy.

"You must keep an open mind," said Willow. "My dear… have you ever been hypnotised?"