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Harper and the Night Forest
Harper and the Night Forest Read online
For Amelie, the queen of fairy tales and for the wild ones who dream of enchanted forests . . . xxx
C.B.
Text copyright © Cerrie Burnell, 2017
Illustrations copyright © Laura Ellen Anderson, 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews and article. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.
First published in the United Kingdom by Scholastic Children’s Books, an imprint of Scholastic Ltd, 2017.
This hardcover edition published by Sky Pony Press, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available on file.
Jacket illustration © Laura Ellen Anderson
Jacket design by Kate Gartner
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-3483-8
EBook ISBN: 978-1-5107-3485-2
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Chapter One THE LEATHER-BOUND BOOK
Chapter Two THE WILD CONDUCTOR’S DREAM
Chapter Three THE BICYCLE AND THE RAVENS
Chapter Four THE CITY OF SINGING CLOCKS
Chapter Five INTO THE FOREST OF NIGHT
Chapter Six A BEAST AMONG THE TREES
Chapter Seven THE FAIRY-TALE KEEPERS’ COTTAGE
Chapter Eight LONE WOLF AND THE ICE RAVEN
Chapter Nine A TERRIBLE PLAN
Chapter Ten THE MISSING HARP
Chapter Eleven ALONE IN THE DEEP, DARK WOODS
Chapter Twelve SKY-HIGH RESCUE
Chapter Thirteen THE MUSICAL CLOUD
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Also look out for . . .
Once there was a girl called Harper who had a rare musical gift. She heard songs on the wind, rhythms on the rain, and hope in the beat of a butterfly’s wing. Harper could play every instrument she ever picked up, without learning a single note, but her favorite of all was her harp. Yet sometimes late at night, alone with her cat, Midnight, Harper imagined an instrument that made her heart soar. An instrument stitched from silver-lined cloud that drifted through all of her dreams . . .
Chapter One
THE LEATHER-BOUND BOOK
Star-stealer cloud swept through the sky and rain as steady as the beat of your heart drummed across the City of Clouds. On the fourteenth floor of the Tall Apartment Block, Harper crept out of her little flat, opened her Scarlet Umbrella, and floated down the stairs, lightly as a feather. Three paces behind her prowled Midnight, her most unusual cat. He’d been named after the hour he had turned up at Harper’s home, and she never went anywhere without him.
As they reached the tenth floor, the little cat paused and the umbrella swirled to stillness, hanging in the air like the bud of dandelion.
Harper clutched the umbrella’s silver handle with one hand and pulled her piccolo flute from her pocket with the other, then played a little ditty that echoed down the stairwells.
Beside her, an indigo door opened, and out stepped a boy who moved as quietly as a whisper: Nate Nathanielson.
“I need your help,” said Harper brightly.
Nate nodded and gave a soft, low whistle; there was a swish of silvery fur and a wolf of mist-like majesty padded out of the door, giving Harper’s rain boot a friendly lick.
“Hello, Smoke.” Harper giggled, tickling the wolf’s ears before they set off down the stairs, Harper drifting in front and the others trailing behind.
On the fifth floor, Harper stopped to play a longer tune, and Nate joined in on his tambourine, while Midnight pranced and Smoke howled. Two rowdy children came tumbling out of the messy little flat.
“Liesel,” said Harper, smiling as she hugged a small girl with filthy fingernails and a pink dove nesting in her tangled hair.
“Ferdie.” Nate grinned, helping a boy with a serious scarf and serious frown to his feet.
“Come with me,” called Harper, and they set off down the stairs and into the Unforgotten Concert Hall in the basement of their home.
Once inside, the children rushed across the stage, through the Forbidden Door, and into the Library of Long-Forgotten Music, a place that was full of dusty magic and the scent of secret songs.
“It’s Great Aunt Sassy’s birthday soon,” Harper explained as they gazed around. “I want to find a piece of harp music to play that’s never been heard before.”
Ferdie gave a serious nod. “Something mysterious and marvelous,” he murmured.
“Something long forgotten,” added Nate.
“Something very secret,” hissed Liesel, scuttling away like a mouse.
Ferdie set off for the other side of the library with a long-legged stride. Nate and Smoke vanished into the darkest part of the room, moving through the shadows as if they were daylight. “If you find anything, play three sharp notes,” called Harper. “Music is our secret signal.”
You see, wherever the children went, they always carried their instruments. Liesel had a shiny violin strapped to her back, Ferdie carried a button accordion, and Nate had his trusty tambourine on his pork-pie cap. As for Harper, her pockets were bursting with maracas and recorders and her beloved harp, all of which she could play.
Harper and Midnight wandered through the dusty air, searching through long-lost music books. They opened one called Nightingale’s Sorrow, leafed through another called Midnight Dreamers, and glanced at a blue leather-bound book with no name, just a magnificent songbird etched upon the cover. They climbed up high and crawled down low, but nothing quite seemed right. Then a cobweb caught on one of Midnight’s whiskers and he gave a sudden sneeze, knocking over a whole shelf of sheet music.
Liesel shot out of the gloominess and caught the falling pages. “Thanks,” said Harper, ruffling the small girl’s hair and awakening Storm, the pink dove. Storm was actually Harper’s pet, a gift from her parents who were traveling the world in a floating circus, but Liesel’s knotted locks made the perfect little nest.
“I think Ferdie’s found something.” Liesel grinned.
Ferdie came strolling over, clutching an armful of books. “I found a trombone solo, a song for the melodeon, and some amazing tunes for the piano, but nothing yet for a harp. . . . Maybe Nate’s had more luck?”
The three children peered across the library at the boy with the wolf. Nate, who only saw lightness or darkness, was running his fingers over each forgotton songbook, feeling the papery thinness of them. He could always tell how old a book was by the creases that crossed its pages, and these books were very old indeed.
Beside him, Smoke gave an intelligent growl and pulled at a book with her teeth. The children hurried over and Harper carefully took the book from the wolf’s silvery jaws. It was the very same leather-bound book she had glanced at earlier. Its cover was a pale, faded blue, with the magnificent songbird etched in gold.
“It looks like a book of spells,” whispered Ferdie.
�
�Open it,” snapped Liesel, hopping wildly with excitement.
The book seemed to shuffle itself to page seven in Harper’s hands. “That’s incredible.” She gasped. “It’s a harp solo called ‘Night Flight.’”
Harper’s three friends looked amazed.
“It sounds perfect,” said Ferdie.
“Play it now,” begged Liesel.
“We’ll join in the chorus,” offered Nate.
Harper raised her small golden harp into the air, but before she had a chance to pluck a single string, Midnight’s tail flicked, Smoke’s fur rose along her back, and Storm gave a warning cry. Someone else was in the library.
The children huddled close together as a shadow swept through the crowded bookcases.
“Who could be down here?” whispered Nate in a voice as quiet as snow.
“No one else knows this library exists,” Ferdie mumbled.
“No one . . .” began Harper, but her voice trailed off. Midnight leaped into her arms and Smoke gave a strange growl as from within the dust emerged a man with magpie-feather hair. “No one except the Wild Conductor!” Harper exclaimed.
“Greetings,” said the terrifyingly tall man, sinking into a low, elegant bow.
“Oh, it’s you,” said Liesel with a bored look.
The Wild Conductor gave a half smile. He didn’t care much for children. But Harper’s musical gift had astonished him so much that he had become very fond of her and her friends.
“What are you doing down here anyway?” Liesel went on.
The Wild Conductor stooped down low as if he were letting the children in on a highly important secret. “Searching for an extraordinary music book.” He sighed. “A book that holds the one song that can draw an Ice Raven out of the trees.”
Ferdie at once began imagining a poem called “Bird of Ice and Feathers.” Nate began wondering what sort of enchanting forest an Ice Raven might live in.
Liesel tried to picture the mystical bird, but all she could think of was a magnificent songbird etched in gold. “What does this music book look like?” she asked cautiously.
The Wild Conductor rose to his full height. “Very old, very odd, very special. It has no name, just a sketch of the Ice Raven on its cover.”
The children fidgeted uncomfortably. “Like this?” asked Harper quietly as she held up the beautiful leather-bound book.
The Wild Conductor’s eyes shimmered dangerously, and for a moment, he seemed to go into a trance. “Yes!” he half spat. “Give it to me!” And with a swirl of his black satin coat, he snatched the book from Harper’s grasp.
Chapter Two
THE WILD CONDUCTOR’S DREAM
In a heartbeat, the children sprang into action. For if there was one thing they were used to dealing with, it was the tricks of the Wild Conductor. Liesel clambered up the side of bookcase and reached out to grab the tall man’s hat. Ferdie stuck out a foot to trip him. Nate whispered to Smoke and the wolf got ready to pounce. Midnight leaped onto the tall man’s shoulders, digging in his claws, while Storm flew in a ring around the library, screaming a war cry.
But Harper didn’t move. Instead, she stared at the Wild Conductor and said, “Listen. We found that book, and if you don’t tell us why you need it, we’ll take it right back,” and she lifted the book firmly from his hands.
The Wild Conductor was startled into an apology. “I do beg your pardon,” he muttered darkly. “It’s just that I am creating an orchestra of ravens to win back my place in the Circus of Dreams.”
The children nodded solemnly and at once began to whisper. They had all visited the Circus of Dreams and knew of its strange and glorious wonders.
“Legend has it that in the Night Forest there lives an Ice Raven whose song can tame the fiercest heart,” the Wild Conductor continued. “If I had that mythical bird in my orchestra, I could tame Othello Grande’s heart and rejoin the circus.”
Harper was still as she thought of Othello Grande, the fearful ringmaster of the Circus of Dreams who let few join his circus and even fewer leave. She remembered how the Wild Conductor had helped her draw that very circus across the sky so she could be reunited with her parents, who lived in its floating tents. Slowly, Harper held out the book. “In that case, it’s yours.” She smiled.
The Wild Conductor was pale with shock. He wasn’t used to people being so kind. “Th-thank you,” he stuttered, his voice dipping very low.
“There’s just one thing you need to do, though,” said Harper, a glint of excitement twinkling in her eyes. “You have to take us with you!”
The wonderful Wild Conductor gave a rare and slightly shocking laugh. “It would be my greatest honor,” he said with a nod.
“You mean we’re going to the Night Forest?” asked Ferdie.
“Near the City of Singing Clocks?” murmured Nate.
“Where fairy tales first began,” squealed Liesel, who had a love of black trees and wicked-hearted witches.
The Wild Conductor nodded. Suddenly, the library of Long-Forgotten Music was filled with the sound of cheering and howling and a thousand happy meows.
Up the creaky staircase they all charged, back to the Tall Apartment Block. On the fifth floor, everyone paused for breath as Ferdie and Liesel crashed into a little flat so crowded with stories it could have been a bookstore. “Mama, Papa, can we go to the Night Forest with the Wild Conductor to find an Ice Raven?” Liesel screamed, her small heart racing.
Their father, Peter, a famous German writer, leaned out of his messy study and gave a surprised frown. “You mean the one near the City of Singing Clocks?” he exclaimed.
“Yes!” yelled Ferdie, tightening his serious scarf.
Brigitte, their mother, looked up from fixing Ferdie’s kite and chuckled. “Well, actually, maybe you can. Your father is launching his new book there next week.
I think we could all join him for a vacation.”
Ferdie punched the air and Liesel pirouetted almost as high as the fluttering pink dove. The Wild Conductor gave a small nod of gratitude and then followed the children to the tenth floor.
Everyone sat waiting on the stairs in near silence, the soft, panting breath of the wolf echoing their quivering hearts. What would Nate’s mom say?
“Hello, Narla,” said the Wild Conductor as Nate’s beautiful mother leaned out of her indigo doorway.
Narla raised her eyebrows curiously as they made their request.
Harper pushed her hands into her pockets, crossing her fingers for luck. Then the wolf did something wonderful. She rose onto her mist-colored paws and padded over to the Wild Conductor, settling obediently at his feet.
Narla smiled. “Well, if Smoke thinks it’s a good idea, then I suppose I can’t say no.” Everyone heaved a sigh of relief and Nate buried his face in Smoke’s dusky fur. She really was quite an astounding creature.
Harper left her rejoicing friends and skipped up the stairs to the little flat she lived in with her Great Aunt Sassy. Midnight prowled three paces behind and Storm fluttered brightly ahead.
Inside their little flat, Great Aunt Sassy was hard at work making costumes for the Dutch Opera House. “Ferdie and Liesel’s family is going to the Night Forest with Nate and the Wild Conductor,” said Harper breathlessly. “There will be black trees and singing clocks and an Ice Raven who can tame the fiercest heart.”
Sassy put down the green felt hat she was decorating and swept Harper into a lavender-scented hug. “Well, my darling, I could hardly stand in the way of such a grand adventure. Of course you must go!”
“Thank you,” murmured Harper, and as Summer-dew rain beat a gentle lullaby against the windows, stars awoke across the City of Clouds. Harper snuggled down to sleep—to dream of deep, dark woods and mysterious clouds that rained music as sweet as a nightingale’s song.
Chapter Three
THE BICYCLE AND THE RAVENS
The very next morning, Harper stood on the rooftop of the Tall Apartment Block, gazing across the City of Clouds. The pale li
ght of morning turned the puddles sunrise-blue, so the city looked like a lake made of dawn. As she stared at the streets she so loved, the dream she kept having drifted back to her. It was always the same: Harper was playing a storm cloud as if it were an accordion, but instead of rain, it spilled notes of music. “If only it were real.” She sighed.
The whirr of propeller blades came spinning through the air, chasing all thoughts of Harper’s dream away. The Dutch Opera House helicopter had arrived to take everyone to the City of Singing Clocks. The German family and Great Aunt Sassy would travel in their helicopter. Harper and Nate were to be towed behind in the Scarlet Umbrella.
“How is the Wild Conductor going to get there?” asked Harper, helping her friends load their suitcases.
“I’m not really sure,” said Peter, scratching his head.
“Don’t forget, he was once a world-famous magician,” said Brigitte. “I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”
Ferdie gave Harper a serious salute and Liesel did a quick-footed curtsy. “See you in the City of Singing Clocks,” they said, laughing.
Harper waved and hurried over to Nate, who was busily attaching the Scarlet Umbrella to the helicopter’s hovering tail with edentwine, an unbreakable string woven from storm-bloom stems. Nate gave the twine three sharp tugs to make certain it was secure, and then Harper flung open the umbrella, spun it upside down, and leaped in, Midnight bounding at her heels.
Nate climbed carefully in after her, whistling for Smoke. With a wild, graceful pounce that nearly took Harper’s breath away, the wolf joined them in the umbrella.
“Farewell, Tall Apartment Block,” Harper murmured, and then the helicopter took to the skies and they were whisked sharply up through cascades of raindrops and Feather-fern clouds, with a rush of air that made the wolf howl.
Flying by umbrella is always an adventure. It’s a feeling of being lighter than dandelions, as if you were made entirely from cloud. It was something that both Harper and Nate were used to, and yet it never lost its wonder. But as the helicopter lurched through the sky, the world became a blur of fog and air.