After they had eaten, it was time for the hypnotism. Jemmy saw no problem with it. Willow led him into a smaller room. The window was obscured by heavy drapes, and it was lit only by the flickering light of candles. Tira and Jasper followed, Gloom perched on his Mistress' shoulder. Tira's blue eyes flickered from Jemmy to Willow and she put her green fingers to her greyish lips.

"Why's Jemmy got to be 'ypnertised, mother?" piped Jasper.

"Because he is a friend, and we always help our friends, Jasper," said Willow. "Your auntie Tira will play with you. Be sure to do as she says."

Tira smiled and took Jasper by the hand. "Yes, Jasper, let's play."

"Since when is she his aunt?" demanded Gloom from Tira's shoulder.

Willow smiled at the imp. "You know very well that we were both reborn in Shekka's light, Gloom. That makes us sisters."

"Sappy way of looking at it," grumbled Gloom.

When Jemmy and Willow were alone in the candlelit room, Willow ushered the warrior into a squashy armchair and pulled up another seat so that she sat facing him. She gave him that endearing, crooked smile that made her blue eyes crinkle and showed off her overlarge front teeth. The flickering candlelight shone off her green nose and cheeks and her plump, bluish lips.

"Now, Jemmy, I know you're looking for an adventure… Understandable, but I admit I have a problem with it. I have a boy of my own, and I know how I'd feel about him doing anything so horribly dangerous…"

Jemmy was piqued at that. He wasn't a little kid, like Jasper!

"I am a man now, as far as Seraton is concerned," he said coolly. "And I am duty bound to complete this quest. I do not require your counselling about this. You know nothing of my burdens."

Willow narrowed her eyes at him and ran her restless, green fingers through her blond hair. Then she touched his cheek and smiled. "So strong in spirit…" she murmured, her voice very soft. "So full of life. You think I know nothing of adventuring?" She gestured with her green hand, pinching her thumb and index finger together. "I've got myself into plenty of pinch for the sake of adventure. But through the schemes of another. Tira knows her. Mistress Crowfoot. Or Babs, as she'll always be to me."

"So… you know Mistress Crowfoot and you are both adventurers."

Willow's blue eyes widened. "There was the time she convinced me to descend into the Boundless Bog with her. Brrr. A perilous expanse of bubbling, green sludge. The air thick with hot, swirling mists you couldn't even see your own hands in. We waded up to our knees wading through the murky Shekka-knows-what, trying to reach one of the mossy islands half-submerged in the bog. These islands, they grow massive, spotted toadstools…" Here Willow grinned and flung her arms wide open. "Each one had its own jungle of rare ingredients. So much that we could use in our magic. As new witches, we were bursting with curiosity about what we could do."

"I'm sure you had a productive trip," said Jemmy politely. "It's not precisely what I would call a hero's quest. Not very perilous."

Willow chuckled, her blue eyes crinkling, and lightly touched the tip of his nose with one green finger. "You think not, sweetling?" She picked up a leather book from the table and began drumming her fingers on it, with a sound like the pitter patter of heavy rain. "That is when doors in the toadstools swung open and we heard the pitter patter of tiny feet. A whole horde of sporelings had caught us raiding their garden. Babs had tricked me into being a thief and we had a crowd of shrieking sporelings on our heels."

Willow opened the book and showed Jemmy an illustration of an ugly little toadstool creature, with a red cap and stubby little legs. "They were swatting at our ankles with twigs. Babs wanted to blast them, but I would not be an accomplice to anything like that, so we just had to flee. By the time we got out of there, we were covered in green slime from head to toe. It didn't do wonders for my complexion." Here, the green-skinned witch winked.

"I like your complexion just fine, Willow," said Jemmy. "Tira looks like you, after all."

Willow grinned and touched his cheek. "You're so sweet."

Then her expression turned serious. "We got our comeuppance, wondering into strange places, expecting to take whatever we pleased. We were entirely empty handed."

"That's a good moral," said Jemmy, gazing at her steadily. He wondered if this was the sort of bedtime story she told Jasper. Why did she think it was relevant to him?

Willow grinned. "We dared to return the very next day with a basked of dapple-squash cakes as a peace offering. Fortunately, the sporelings accepted and even gave us a portion of scullyweed root in return. That was the proper way to do the mini-quest. Wonderful creatures, the sporelings." For some reason, Willow began to stroke the pages. Perhaps a witch's fingers always needed exercise.

"That is good to know," said Jemmy. "Are you trying to tell me something about quests?"

Willow looked at him with her wide blue eyes. The candlelight shone off the tip of her green nose. "You are entirely convinced of this perilous quest?"

"I am willing to lay down my life, if need be, to thwart the evil designs of Nazek and the Infernal Beast." Jemmy thought this sounded really grand, and the girls at home were impressed by it, but Willow's yellow brows drew together.

"You have to be thinking clearly and considering this carefully, Jemedar," she said softly. "I can help."

"Oh yes?" he said, mildly intrigued. "How?"

She touched his cheek again and sighed. "If you are in a peaceful state, you can let go of negative thoughts. May I show you?"

"Go ahead."

Willow picked up what looked like a bundle of twigs from the table beside them and touched it to one of the candles. It began to smoulder and give off a sweet, heady aroma. The witch moved the smouldering twigs in a strange, complicated motion, leaving a trail of the sweet smelling smoke in the air around them. "Let the smoke clear away bitterness and lingering fears," she murmured.

Abruptly, Jemmy began to feel drowsy. He might have nodded off for a moment, because the next thing he saw was Willow making complicated motions with her green fingers, the smouldering twigs discarded. She smiled at him and he grew drowsier… now Willow's green face seemed to loom so close that she filled his entire vision, the candlelight shining off her nose and cheeks. Her whispering seemed to echo, and he could no longer understand her words.

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Then the scene shifted. He could feel Willow with him as though her arms were around him. Had she taken him into her arms? But the scene of a sunny riverbank back home was all around him. His mother and sister were there…

"Mother? Sister?" he said aloud, although his voice was mumbling like that of a sleep talker.

"I can see the likeness," murmured Willow's voice in his ear. "Such a beautiful family." He could feel her warm breath tickling. Jemmy thought he could smell the witch's musty scent in his nostrils, but her odour was nothing like as strong as Tira's.

Jemmy's sister was complaining. "Mother, Jemmy's been teasing. He was tickling me again!"

"'Tush, Mylar," said their mother. "Jemedar is on the way to becoming a great hero. Ready to lay down his life for the good of the land, if need be."

"Aah! I cannot see eye to eye with the good lady," said Willow in her soft whisper. "If you were mine – Shekka help me – I wouldn't let you go on this quest with the Infernal Beast in it. I mean, the Infernal Beast…"

Jemmy wanted to demur, but he only mumbled again and the scene was already swirling around them, shifting to another… Father Dunstain loomed into sight and with a thrill of horror, Jemmy saw the shadowy form of Nazek rearing up, serpent-like…

"It's your fault boy, that the defector from my Order trespassed and stole the infernal tome," barked Dunstain.

"How dare he try and put the blame you, the cotton-head" the witch whispered fiercely in Jemmy's ear. "He is the one most to blame for how members of his precious Order turn out. I want to slap him."

The figure of Nazek hissed and then spoke; "the Infernal Beast comes. Let all wither and burn before him…"

Jemmy felt a cold prickle of fear, but the images were dissolving again and when he came to, his vision cleared and there was Willow's shiny green face, almost nose to nose with his. Were there tears in her blue eyes? She bit her blackish lip.

"You see, Willow?" said Jemmy. "Even if Nazek is Father Dunstain's fault, the Infernal Beast threatens all the lands."

"I understand," she said softly, her warm breath tickling. "I understand completely."

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Willow expressed the desire to help them in their quest, and they submitted the weapons they had found on their journey for her inspection. She ran her green fingers lightly over Deliverer, frowning.

"This sword…" she whistled. "Well it's something to handle with care, Jemmy dear."

"The shade of Gawain could have told us that," said Gloom.

Willow took a graver interest in the book they had found in the Bonebeast's lair. "This is bound to you for the time being, Tira," she said, tapping her green fingers on the cover. "You retrieved it. It's a dangerous thing though. Only to be used in emergencies."

Next Willow showed them 'healing fruits' of her own invention. They looked like pomegranates, but they were blue inside.

"These are a good supplement to rations," said Willow, grinning toothily. "And they should help you recover your energy, Tira, sister."

They all tried some. "Tastes like peaches," said Jemmy. "My compliments to you, Willow."

"I've never had peaches before," said Tira. "But this is yummy."

"Peaches… gimme chips instead, any day," grumbled Gloom.

"It's sweeter 'n peaches," said Jasper. "Better 'n veggies, though. Why'd you make me eat veg, mother?"

"Veggies are important too, darling," said Willow, picking him up and kissing him on the cheek. "And healing fruit isn't a substitute for rations altogether, dears. I find a soft loaf of bread provides an irreplaceable comfort."

Next, Willow wanted to show Tira how to prepare some kind of potion of pest repulsion in her little stone work shed. Jemmy followed them in, but he couldn't actually help. The witches took turns stirring the cauldron of iridescent liquid. Willow picked up a small clay jar and drummed her fingers on the lid in that strange manner she had. "A touch of Malague should offset it just fine..." She poured the contents of the jar into the cauldron and the potion turned a brilliant purple. "Now stir quickly, Tira. Seven stirs at a time."

Tira stirred the cauldron feverishly, her green face glowing with a sheen of sweat. The cloying, musty scent of her body odour filled the little shed.

Willow clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! All done. I can see you do have a knack for it. Potential… there is potential."

"What would happen if I cooked up the same ingredients?" asked Jemmy.

"You could only make a toxic mess," said Willow with a wry smile. "You don't have magic to channel through your fingers."

When the witches had finished their brew, Willow put some in a tiny flask for Tira to keep.

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The next morning, Jemmy and Tira went to the marketplace for mundane supplies. The sun was barely up, and a mist still hung over the grass. Jemmy held Tira's clammy hand in his, and Gloom bounded along beside them, but suddenly he scampered off and returned with a large earth worm. "The early bird gets the worm," he announced. "Want a piece?"

Jemmy rolled his eyes and Tira smiled and shook her head. Gloom ate the worm raw.

"Willow's very kind, wanting to help us," said Jemmy. "Not that I'm accustomed to anything different from a witch."

Tira's green face was illuminated by her grin. "Isn't she just? Wish I could do something nice for her in return."

At that moment, they heard a cry for help. It seemed to be coming from a tree nearby. They looked up, and to their surprise, they saw Cynric, the mad old beggar from the Hollowell jail. He was just as they remembered him, with wild, grey hair and dressed in old rags. He was holding a skull in one hand!

"Aren't yer those nice children from the Hollowell cells? Gerald an' I 're down on our luck lately. No bed. No three meals a day. I ask yer…"

Tira clapped a green hand to her mouth and squeaked, her blue eyes wide. "How did you get up there, Sir? Not to worry. I'll get you down."

Tira scrambled up the trunk and Jemmy assisted as she lowered Cynric back to the ground.

"How're you doing, Gerald?" Gloom asked the skull in a loud and deliberate voice. "You're awfully quiet."

"Gerald isn't talking ter me since I couldn't make 'em let me stay in our cell," said Cynric. "I doubt he wants ter talk to yer. But I can 'elp. With another riddle."

They were both curious to hear the riddle this time. Cynric's last one had been a genuine clue, after all.

Cynric cleared his throat and placed a gnarled hand over the skull's mouth. "Stop Gerald blurtin' the answer out. He really likes this one:

"See 'im though he sees yer not,

The black-eyed creature creeps.

A guardian once, but now 'is lot,

The key to smiting keeps."

"Huh. I cannot see how that one is relevant," said Jemmy.

"Yer will, if yer keep goin' due west," said Cynric, pointing down the a worn, weather-beaten track across the fields. Fin' a ring of toadstools."

"Well, we've learned to trust mad beggars," said Gloom. "Let's head due west."

Down the track, they came to the ring of toadstools, in the centre of which there squatted a huge, black spider, sitting on am arm ring of polished iron. On the arm ring were etched the words, 'strength is power.'

"Might be worth taking it to Willow to examine," said Jemmy. "Do you have any of that pest repellent, Tira?"

Jemmy uncorked the flask and sprinkled a drop of glutinous, purple liquid into the spider, which scuttled away.

Back at Willow's cottage, the witch turned it over in her green hands, rapping on it experimentally with her fingers. Then she grinned. "This is for you," she handed the arm ring to Jemmy. "A fine gift for a handsome warrior. It's an armband of sword-mastery. Put it on your arm and it will augment your skill with any blade."

"I want to be a warrior," said Jasper, pouting.

"Not on my watch," said Willow sternly. "You're staying here where my familiars can look after you."

Then Willow laid a green hand on each of their shoulders. "My dears, I have decided I cannot allow you to go on such a dreadful, perilous quest alone… which is why I will accompany you."

"Ooh!" Tira squealed, clapping her green hands together. "I'd love that."

"In truth, I am very glad of it too," said Jemmy.

"It'll be like old times," said Willow. "As there is great need, I should go on one more adventure. Just like the old days."

"Wait… what do you mean, the old days?" said Gloom.

Willow smiled at him. "We need the help of another experienced witch. An old friend will join us. We adventured together once, and for my part, I still love her dearly. If she ever upset me, that memory has faded away, and only the good times remain."

At that moment, the room grew dark as if the sun had gone behind a cloud, and Jemmy suddenly became aware of a tall, handsome woman, with long dark hair and the bright, green skin of a witch. She gazed at him for a moment, her expression unreadable and then she turned to Tira and glared.

Tira gave a start and a little scream, her blue eyes wide and fearful. "Mistress Crowfoot!"