Emily Feather and the Starlit Staircase Read online

  Wren’s black eyes glittered, and a shimmer of tiny silver lights seemed to wash over her hair. They swirled out across Emily’s hand as she cradled the baby’s head, and prickled lovingly over her skin.

  Then the stars were all around them, glowing silver against the dark walls of the staircase. It was the same journey she and Eva had made, but the wish was taking them back so quickly that Emily was suddenly short of breath, gasping in magic instead of air.

  She reached out a panicked hand to her mother, and Eva caught the very tips of her fingers. They went rushing down the starry steps together, with Ash and Gruff pounding after them.

  And then they were back, and Emily had somehow never left her chair – but it was no longer carved and ancient wood, but soft and creaking and laden with cushions. The faded old armchair in the corner of Eva’s studio. They were home.

  “Did you do that?” Emily whispered to the baby, who only chuckled and waved at Eva and Ash, who were standing on either side of the chair, looking shocked.

  “You wished it,” Gruff growled beside her. “You wanted to go home, and she brought you home by the stairs she’d seen. You did it together.” Then his ears went back in surprise, as he realized he’d spoken aloud.

  Lory had appeared at the door, with Lark and Robin behind her. She looked furious. “Where have you been?” she yelled at her mother. “You didn’t even tell us!” Then she made an angry sort of choking noise and flung herself across the room to hug Eva. “We were worried about you,” she added, her voice muffled.

  “Is that the baby?” Robin asked, still standing at the bottom of the stairs and peering up curiously.

  Lory sat up straight and peered down at the blankets suspiciously. “Is it?”

  “Yes.” Eva showed them. “She’s asleep.”

  “I suppose she’s quite cute,” Lory admitted, and Emily was certain she saw Wren wriggle, as though she’d heard.

  “She’s gorgeous!” Lark told her sister. “Look at all her hair!”

  There was definitely an air of smugness around Wren now, and Emily giggled.

  “You should rest,” Ash told Eva lovingly, handing her a tiny white flower that had just appeared in his hand. “You must be exhausted.”

  Eva smiled at him and tucked the star of white petals into her hair, which seemed to coil and brighten all at once. She looked a lot less tired now, Emily realized, wondering what sort of spell the glowing flower was.

  “Go to bed,” Ash said firmly, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  Eva nodded wearily, but then she looked down at Wren and frowned. “Will you take the baby with you, Emily? There’s a Moses basket in our room for her. I don’t want her to be lonely – I’m not quite sure what would happen. . .”

  Emily nodded. If Wren woke up and no one was watching her, who knew what she might do? Emily wouldn’t put it past her to fly out of a window.

  Robin fetched the Moses basket, and he and Emily settled on her bedroom window seat with Wren in the basket on the floor beside them and Gruff sprawled over the boards next to her. Lark and Lory had stayed with Eva, curled up next to her.

  “She’s a bit boring,” Robin said doubtfully, nudging the basket with his foot. Gruff laid back his ears, and shoved Robin with his heavy muzzle.

  “Don’t do that,” Emily whispered crossly, reaching down to the basket and lifting their baby sister out. Wren stirred, but she didn’t wake up. “She isn’t boring, and you don’t want to wake her.”

  Robin snorted, but he did reach down and very gently stroke the golden feathers that just showed above the blankets. “Especially if she tries using her wings. Mum would be a bit cross if you had to tell her you lost the baby already,” he agreed, peering out of the window and looking fidgety.

  “Oh, go downstairs!” Emily told him. “I’ll come and find you if she wakes up, then you can meet her properly.”

  Robin was disappearing down the stairs practically as soon as she started talking, and Emily sighed, leaning back against her cushions and shifting the weight of the baby in her arms. The patterns in the blurred old glass of her windows were moving again, and she watched them dreamily. She hadn’t been to the fairy world enough to recognize the places she saw. She probably never would be that familiar with it, she admitted to herself, a little sadly. She couldn’t live in the other world, she was almost sure. Even if her parents did decide to take her, it would be too dangerous, for them as well as for Emily. But she still had her own magic, even without the beauty and excitement of a fairy world to live in. She would settle for watching it through her windows.

  Smiling, Emily turned away from the glass and looked down at her little sister again. Still asleep. Emily shook her head. Robin did have a point, she supposed. Babies weren’t that exciting when they were asleep. She leaned carefully over to the table in front of the window seat, wondering if she’d left a drawing pad, or a book.

  There was a pad, and pencils, but on top of the pad was a parcel, which Emily most definitely hadn’t left there herself. She eyed it suspiciously, wondering if it was a joke of Robin’s. But it was prettily wrapped, with a ribbon, and she didn’t think he would have bothered. There was a label, she noticed now, twined into the curls of ribbon, and she reached out to read it.

  Hope you like this, Emily. And beside the message, a tiny drawing of a bird. A lark.

  Emily started unwrapping the parcel one-handed, which was tricky. But after a couple of minutes of tugging, the ribbon simply undid itself, and lay flat on the table, and Emily realized that someone was watching her. She could feel it.

  “You’re awake,” she murmured to Wren, whose dark eyes were fixed curiously on hers. “Did you undo the ribbon for me? Thanks.”

  Wren waved her arms, flapping them in a way that Emily guessed meant she wanted to be sitting up so she could see better, so Emily propped her up and pulled the paper off the parcel.

  Inside was a book, one that Emily recognized. It was a recipe book that she’d bought in a charity shop, full of things to do with chocolate. But she hadn’t used it much – it had turned out to be a bit old-fashioned. What had Lark done with it? Emily flicked over the pages curiously, remembering the greyish photos, and the recipe for white chocolate mice that had made white chocolate goo instead.

  The recipes were not the same at all.

  Lark had made her a spell book.

  Wren pattered her fingers on the pages, and Emily smiled at her, and then gasped as she saw that the page changed as Wren touched it. She ran a finger down the page herself, and somehow felt the ingredients in her head. It was her spell for Brownie – the little chocolate-coloured mouse she had made Robin out of chocolate brownie crumbs. And Lark had listed the ingredients as:

  Determination

  Stubbornness

  Jealousy

  Cake

  Crossness

  Love

  Confusion

  Emily snorted. Lark was about right. Brownie had been an accident, caused by Robin assuming Emily would never be able to do a spell. She had been so angry that he thought she was useless, she had wanted to show him. . . Gruff sniffed hungrily at the book – and Emily nodded. It smelled of chocolate, thick and sweet.

  She flipped back to the title page and stroked it, and now it said Emily’s Spells. Because she can, even if she thinks she can’t.

  And in very small writing underneath, You owe me so much cake for this. Caramel toffee sponge with choccy chunks, please.

  Emily giggled, and leafed through the book, wondering which other spells Lark had described. There was a beautiful illustration of Sasha, and an account of her rescue, which said Emily was brave, and a bit stupid, very loyal and probably right. It ended with, Next time you do something that stupid, ask us to help!

  There were only about ten recipes, but even though the pages in the rest of the book were empty, Emily could tell whe
n she stroked them that they weren’t meant to stay that way. She could add her own spells to the book. She stroked the first blank page thoughtfully, and then jumped as a tiny hand landed on top of her own, the skin silken and warm.

  “What are you doing?” Emily whispered to Wren, watching the glowing silver magic floating down her own fingers and pooling on the page. “Oh! The spell we used to get home. You can do this sort of thing already?” She watched, amazed, as the magic spread out and flickered into letters.

  Love

  Sisters

  Protection

  Home

  Fear

  Faith

  The words burned themselves across the page, inscribed in the shape of an archway and then spiralling down like stairs, and Wren looked up at her, beaming, her cheeks as round as apples and pinkly shining.

  “You’re so clever,” Emily murmured, stroking the spell and sensing the longing for home and safety that blazed out of the silvery words. She looked down at her little sister, who was still poking at the book and giggling as the letters glittered, and little stars painted themselves across the page. She was so strong. What would she be like when she was Emily’s age?

  “I can’t wait to see,” Emily murmured as Wren’s fingers wrapped tightly around one of her own, and together they gazed down at the dancing magic. I will see, she thought to herself, turning and holding Wren up as footsteps sounded on the stairs. I’m part of it all, I always was. And my magic will grow too. “That’s them coming back to see you,” she murmured to Wren as she heard Lark shushing Robin, telling him not to wake the baby.

  “She’s awake already,” Emily called. “It’s all right.” And Wren gurgled, and clapped her plump little hands, and reached out for Robin as he curled up next to Emily on the window seat.

  Emily watched him laughing as the baby patted her tiny hand against his. Wren cooed at Lark and Lory as they sent a flight of tiny birds circling around the room for her to watch. And then she leaned back against Emily, sleepy again suddenly, and pulled lovingly at Emily’s dark hair that was so like her own.

  Emily felt Lark wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she sighed, remembering the frightened girl who had been her mother. Had she ever held Emily in her arms, as Emily was holding Wren now, and thought about the future? For Emily it was a pathway, winding on ahead of them and leading she didn’t know where. She only knew it was a place she wanted to see.

  “Be happy,” Emily murmured. “Wherever you are. I’m happy too.”

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2014

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2014

  Text copyright ©Holly Webb, 2014

  The right of Holly Webb to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her.

  Cover illustration © Rosie Wheeldon, 2014

  eISBN 978 1407 14687 4

  A CIP catalogue record for this work is available from the British Library.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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