A shuttered lantern cast just enough light to tell the roots from the shadows which both fell across the rough path in abundance. It was a path that each of the stealthy figures knew as well as each other and they stepped easily from root to root, passing through the forest as silently as the ghostly wisps of pre-dawn mist accompanying them. The forest, sensing the mood, quieted as well. Wherever the pair passed, forlorn hooting, curious snuffling, and insectile chirping all vanished like the mist would as soon as the late summer sun made its own inadequately stealthy appearance. Dew brushed off the ferns as they passed and Clive’s socks were already soaked.

  “Are you sure you’re allowed to take that out here?” He asked, his hushed tones breaking the long silence.

  “Of course not. That’s why we’re being sneaky.” Ellie replied in her perky upbeat voice, just as loud as ever.

  “Shhh” Clive admonished “What if one of the hunters is nearby.”

  “Then we’ll say hello and wish them good luck.”

  “But the book.” Clive objected

  “We’re the only ones who know we have it. So long as you quit running your mouth, everything will be fine.”

  “Won’t your mother notice it’s missing?”

  “Not a chance. She’s waging war against those slugs again. She’ll be up to her elbows in muck until midday, there’s no way she will even think about going near her study until well after we put it back.”

  Clive hefted his boxy, wood framed carry pack. The fur-lined leather straps were comfortable, but one corner from the brick made of leather, paper, and magic pressed into his back. He knew the book wasn’t dangerous on its own, so long as they weren’t caught with it, but his goosebumps couldn’t be explained away by the slight chill in the air, not with the pace Ellie was setting from ahead.

  By the time they got to their fortress, the first flinty-grey notes of dawn began to fill the sky, silhouetting the dark and imposing mountains to the east. The hills reluctantly rose from the darkness around them, still wrapped in thick blankets of mist.

  Their fortress was actually just an old, topless tree, but it was also fertile ground for young imaginations. Struck by lightning and hollowed out by time, it was nobbly, discolored, and jagged. There was a small hole just big enough for them to squeeze through at its base, though the entrance seemed to shrink a little with each passing year. If you asked Ellie what she thought about it she would go on about the countless battles fought, princes saved, monsters repelled, the whole deal. Clive was mostly towed along behind her, swept up in her enthusiastic imaginings like the sticks they raced in the creek after a good rain. Their minds swelling the scene until the sticks were the great sailing ships from toothless old Noona’s stories, swept up in a mighty tempest until they landed in strange and distant lands.

  When they were at their tower, all she had to do was say “Oh no” and point at some new non-existent threat to send them scampering up to the battlements to throw acorns at the latest enemy army foolish enough to attack their fortress.

  Today called for something a little more serious though. Once they were safely inside their walls, Ellie unshuttered the lantern and Clive carefully pulled the book from his bag. He held it at arm's length, dangling between thumbs and fingertips like he could catch sick from it.

  Ellie snatched the book from his fingers and settled down onto the soft mat of decomposing leaves and grasses imported for comfort. She let the thick leather cover fall to either side and licked a thumb before leafing past page after page of queer symbols.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Clive scratched his upper arm and turned away. It was one thing to carry a book, but looking inside made his skin crawl, even if he couldn’t understand any of the strange twisty markings on the paper.

  “Are you sure about this?” Clive asked “What if we start a fire or something?”

  “This is a book of wind spells, you can’t start fires with wind you foghead.”

  “Why did you have to rope me into this?” Clive groaned. “I can’t help with… that stuff.”

  “Nonsense. If it wasn’t for you, I would have to carry that heavy book all the way up here.”

  “What are we doing out here anyways? Can’t you do your stuff back at home?”

  “No, I can’t do it at home because mom would know.” she explained “Reading a little at night is one thing, but spells leave a kind of… smell behind. If you get good, you can make spells that don’t smell much, but right now, it would be like leaving a dead frog in her slipper. She would notice.”

  After flipping past a few more pages she stopped.

  “Here it is!” She exclaimed, then her brow furrowed and she leaned in closer to the book, almost as if she was preparing to fall in. Clive let her mutter to herself. He never could control where their adventures took them, but it was usually fun, even if it did tend to get them into trouble.

  He would usually be up for anything she wanted to do, but this outing took some special convincing. Practicing underage witchcraft wasn’t something that would be settled with a few strokes of a willow branch. Resigning himself to his fate, he lay down and looked up at the lightening sky through the hole in the top of the tree. He had no illusions that their secret spot was secret at all, but it did feel like a secret at times like this. It was like they had a tiny world all to themselves. He nearly drifted off to Ellie’s murmuring when a rude jolt woke him back up. It was like nodding off, only to nod so violently that you wake yourself up again, but his head was already on the ground. The shock of falling was provided by Ellies spell instead.

  “Uwaaaagh!” Clive pinwheeled his arms, as he fell up through the hollow inside of the tree. He scrabbled at one wall, pushing himself off into the other until he caught hold of their makeshift ladder and held on for dear life.

  “Put me down!” Clive wailed.

  “Sorry, hold on… Vetterasu, gerantudi, abas!” Ellie chanted, and Clive flipped down from his handhold, tearing it loose and spinning back down to earth without any control whatsoever. He landed hard on his back among the debris at the bottom, kicking up shreds of grass, leaves and dust.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry Clive. I didn’t think... Oh, that was so stupid of me. Are you okay?”

  When he got his breath back, he wheezed.

  “What happened?”

  “I tried this utility spell called feather fall. It’s just supposed to make you lighter, but the spell in here is designed for adults. I didn’t think what it would do to someone our size.”

  “Oh, so I was right. This was a bad idea.”

  “You think every idea is a bad idea.”

  “No I don’t. You just have a knack of coming up with bad ones.”

  “That’s not true.” Ellie objected

  “Mud… Pie.” Clive said, sitting up and rubbing his ribs

  “Oh, you’re never going to let that go are you. This happens to be a great idea by the way, it just needs a little... adjustment.”

  “Well why don’t you test it on yourself next time.” Clive griped.

  “Fine.” Ellie turned her back, sat back down, and poured herself back into her book.

  “...try and do something nice and what do I get?” she muttered to herself.