Dire Woods

John Joseph awoke to the smell of rather musky-fur. Bounder was lying right beside him, his coat moving each time he breathed. Comforting, but vaguely uncomfortable. John Joseph emerged from the blanket and stretched his arms wide above his head.

Mrs. Wickaby and Emily were both swinging their legs off the ledge of the mountain. The bog cat groaned, stretched, and moved beside them, managing to hit John Joseph in the face with his tail.

“I take it I’ve slept in,” John Joseph commented with a yawn.

“Not by long,” the old lady assured him. “We were just charting our path.” She waved a soiled sleeve towards the trees that surrounded St. Francis Academy below them. “I guess that‘s our best route, eh?” she continued pointing at a rough path. “We just make it down the mountain, through those woods and we‘re there.” She glanced over her shoulder at John Joseph. “You’re sure the teachers are there? Even this early in the morning?”

John Joseph rubbed his eyes and moved to peer over the dizzying edge. “Definitely,” he assured her, “almost all of them live right in the academy.”

Mrs. Wickaby thrust herself backwards, swung her spindly legs onto the shelf and started to stuff their blankets into her bottomless pack. “No time like the present,” she stated.

John Joseph gazed below him at the school full of strangers he barely knew, then he glanced at the threesome that had somehow come to mean so much to him.

“I think we should separate when we reach the woods on the edge of the school. If my aunt’s there waiting, she’ll concentrate on me first,“ he stated. “That way you three can go for help.”

Bounder rumbled. Mrs. Wickaby and her granddaughter turned to gaze at John Joseph in astonishment.. “Do you really think we’d let you go off by yourself after all we’ve been through?” Emily shouted. “I may not have been too fond of you when we first met, you blithering twit!” she continued, “but I’m sure as heck not going to abandon you now!”

“Not quite my sentiments, but close enough,” her grandmother added. “We’re in this together, boy, no matter what happens.” She gestured towards the closest pathway. “Let’s get going, shall we? Somewhere down there is a delicious breakfast, with my name on it.”

John Joseph, stomach growling, led the way.

The pathway down the mountain was extremely steep, so they moved exceptionally fast, most of it involuntarily. There was a lot of unexpected sliding and skidding. Whenever they had a chance to catch their breath, be it at small outcropping or a nice shelf, Emily would peer down at the school and stare.

“When this is all over, I guess you‘ll go back to St. Francis’, won‘t you?” she asked.

“Not bloody likely,” John Joseph spouted. “I hated it.”

Emily’s black eyes sparkled. “More than you hated Kipling Memorial?” she asked with a smirk.

“More than I hated Kipling Memorial,” he repeated slowly. “No matter how bad school was in January, at least I found something there I never had here.”

“What?” Emily asked.

“Friends, of course,” John Joseph answered. He nodded towards Mrs. Wickaby behind them, “and the best teacher I’ve ever had.” Emily grinned as he continued. “I am expecting you to be a little less obnoxious when we go back to Kipling, of course.”

“I’ll work on it,” Emily responded.

“Please do.”

He felt as light as a dandy lion puff. “Come on!“ he hollered, scooting down the stone covered pathway. “We’re almost there!”

A bit of a slide down a rock face and they were on the edge of the familiar forest. He gazed around in recognition, that stump, that stand of fire nut trees. “I’ve been right here,” he exclaimed. “The main office is right through here!”

No one answered. He glanced behind him. Mrs. Wickaby, Emily and Bounder were staring off to his left. His heart pounding, he turned and followed their gaze.

Angerona Alabaster, ethereal in the early morning light, was emerging from the woods. She held her wand delicately in her hand.