faint golden light shone out from under the lid. “What is it?”
“A pencil box,” said Will. “It does that sometimes. It was my mother’s. She kept her writing pencils in it.” For some reason, it had been easy to tell Favian about his mother, but now the words stuck in his throat.
“Can I open it?” said Thom.
Will nodded. Thom opened the box, and the light faded away. “There’s nothing in it except this,” he said, picking up the piece of rolled-up cloth and the photograph of Will’s grandparents. He turned the box upside down. “I don’t get how it works. Is it some kind of magic?”
“It just does it,” repeated Will.
Thom unrolled the cloth. He read out loud the words woven in delicate gold thread. “ The Griffin of Darkwood . What’s this?”
“Just something someone gave me,” said Will.
“Let me see,” said Emma. She studied it with interest. “Not a new tapestry. An old one.”
Will had never thought that it might be from a tapestry. How had a piece of tapestry ended up with a photograph of his grandparents?
Emma picked up the photograph. “Who’s this?”
“My mother and my grandparents,” said Will.
“You look a little bit like your grandfather."
“His name was Sterling,” said Will. “He was a writer. And my grandmother was a dancer. Her name was Carmelita.”
“I wish the box would make that light again,” said Thom. He put the strip of cloth and the photograph back inside and closed the lid.
“We need to look for the secret passage when Mr. Cherry’s not here,” said Emma. She flipped onto her hands and walked in a circle.
“He goes out sometimes,” said Will, “but I never know when he’s coming back.”
“Let’s just forget it,” said Thom. “We could go back to my house and look up recipes or something.”
“I’ll come later,” said Will. First he wanted to go back to Lantern Lane to have another look at the cat, Macavity.
Chapter Thirteen
Tea Leaves
Will heard a clinking, clanking sound as he walked along Lantern Lane. He spun around. The Muses were following him.
“It’s no use!” he shouted. “You might as well leave me alone. You won't inspire me any more. I’m never writing again!”
He started to run and was gasping for breath by the time he got to Vespera Moonstone’s house. Vespera, wearing a blue batik skirt and several long ropes of wooden beads, answered his knock. Her deep brown eyes were welcoming.
“Will Poppy! I’ve heard about you from Favian. You must come in.”
Vespera’s house was untidy. Papers, books, pens and empty teacups were strewn across every surface in the front room. Macavity was stretched out on a rug in front of a gas fireplace. To Will’s disappointment, his eyes were shut. Several cardboard boxes in the middle of the floor overflowed with copies of slim purple books with the title A Mystical Muse on the cover. Vespera had been in the middle of unpacking. “This is my newest book. I ordered more copies from my publisher. I never know how many will sell when I do a reading.”
“I came here this morning,” said Will. “And…um…your cat. I’m pretty sure I saw his eyes change colour.”
“They have a tendency to do that,” said Vespera.
“That’s amazing!”
Vespera looked closely at Will. “Do you believe in magic?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“Good. If you keep your eyes open, you’ll find all kinds of magic in Sparrowhawk. This is an ancient village. Now I’m going to make some tea and we’ll have a proper visit.”
Vespera Moonstone disappeared. Will knelt down beside Macavity, but the cat was still fast asleep. In a few minutes, Vespera returned with a tray of cups and saucers, a little pot of honey and a teapot. She poured the tea, which she declared was from China. “None of the cheap Indian teas for me. Too many bits of twigs for properly reading tea leaves.”
While Will stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea, Vespera said, “Favian Longstaff told me the story of
“A pencil box,” said Will. “It does that sometimes. It was my mother’s. She kept her writing pencils in it.” For some reason, it had been easy to tell Favian about his mother, but now the words stuck in his throat.
“Can I open it?” said Thom.
Will nodded. Thom opened the box, and the light faded away. “There’s nothing in it except this,” he said, picking up the piece of rolled-up cloth and the photograph of Will’s grandparents. He turned the box upside down. “I don’t get how it works. Is it some kind of magic?”
“It just does it,” repeated Will.
Thom unrolled the cloth. He read out loud the words woven in delicate gold thread. “ The Griffin of Darkwood . What’s this?”
“Just something someone gave me,” said Will.
“Let me see,” said Emma. She studied it with interest. “Not a new tapestry. An old one.”
Will had never thought that it might be from a tapestry. How had a piece of tapestry ended up with a photograph of his grandparents?
Emma picked up the photograph. “Who’s this?”
“My mother and my grandparents,” said Will.
“You look a little bit like your grandfather."
“His name was Sterling,” said Will. “He was a writer. And my grandmother was a dancer. Her name was Carmelita.”
“I wish the box would make that light again,” said Thom. He put the strip of cloth and the photograph back inside and closed the lid.
“We need to look for the secret passage when Mr. Cherry’s not here,” said Emma. She flipped onto her hands and walked in a circle.
“He goes out sometimes,” said Will, “but I never know when he’s coming back.”
“Let’s just forget it,” said Thom. “We could go back to my house and look up recipes or something.”
“I’ll come later,” said Will. First he wanted to go back to Lantern Lane to have another look at the cat, Macavity.
Chapter Thirteen
Tea Leaves
Will heard a clinking, clanking sound as he walked along Lantern Lane. He spun around. The Muses were following him.
“It’s no use!” he shouted. “You might as well leave me alone. You won't inspire me any more. I’m never writing again!”
He started to run and was gasping for breath by the time he got to Vespera Moonstone’s house. Vespera, wearing a blue batik skirt and several long ropes of wooden beads, answered his knock. Her deep brown eyes were welcoming.
“Will Poppy! I’ve heard about you from Favian. You must come in.”
Vespera’s house was untidy. Papers, books, pens and empty teacups were strewn across every surface in the front room. Macavity was stretched out on a rug in front of a gas fireplace. To Will’s disappointment, his eyes were shut. Several cardboard boxes in the middle of the floor overflowed with copies of slim purple books with the title A Mystical Muse on the cover. Vespera had been in the middle of unpacking. “This is my newest book. I ordered more copies from my publisher. I never know how many will sell when I do a reading.”
“I came here this morning,” said Will. “And…um…your cat. I’m pretty sure I saw his eyes change colour.”
“They have a tendency to do that,” said Vespera.
“That’s amazing!”
Vespera looked closely at Will. “Do you believe in magic?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“Good. If you keep your eyes open, you’ll find all kinds of magic in Sparrowhawk. This is an ancient village. Now I’m going to make some tea and we’ll have a proper visit.”
Vespera Moonstone disappeared. Will knelt down beside Macavity, but the cat was still fast asleep. In a few minutes, Vespera returned with a tray of cups and saucers, a little pot of honey and a teapot. She poured the tea, which she declared was from China. “None of the cheap Indian teas for me. Too many bits of twigs for properly reading tea leaves.”
While Will stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea, Vespera said, “Favian Longstaff told me the story of
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