Where the Music Ends

By Laura Andrews

A girl who runs. A boy who dreams.

In the seven villages, there is only one sure thing in life: the witch's music will call you into the forest. For thirteen-year-old Alice, running away for the night with her twin brother is the obvious choice; but how far does the music reach, and can anyone truly escape it?

When the worst happens and her brother follows the music into the forest, Alice refuses to accept that he is gone forever.

Along with Gilbert, a boy who sees the future in his dreams, Alice must learn to use the mysterious Free Words to confront the witch and save her beloved brother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Andrews
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386022619

Book preview

The late Autumn chill hung damp around the branches of ancient trees. An old woman leaned on her staff, gazing out into a clearing surrounded by torches. With a glance of her eyes, the torches sprang into flame; her scarlet dress, illuminated by the fire, swirled in the sudden wind of her magic. The trees nestled together, dripping. The moon rose into a starless sky.

Chapter One

Alice sat on the edge of her bed. Her father’s heavy, rhythmic breathing filled the dark room. The fire had sunk low.

She swung her legs over the edge and set her stockinged feet down on the floor. As quiet as a breeze, she made her way to her twin brother’s bed, put her hand on his shoulder, and whispered, Joseph.

He turned on his side and muttered something, and she clamped her hand over his mouth.

Joseph.

This time he woke. She pulled at his hand, not daring to speak further. After a moment, he got up.

By the hearth, they slipped their boots on and wrapped themselves in scarves. Alice fastened her woolen cloak and hood, took down the lamp, and lit it; Joseph put on his coat, and together they made their way across the room. At each creak of the floorboards Alice stopped, trembling; but her parents slept on.

They came to the door. Alice held the light while Joseph worked at the bolt. Long seconds passed as he eased it back. At last he had it. The door whined as it swung open; a blast of cold air flowed into the room.

Alice followed Joseph out and pushed the door shut behind them. Her fingers trembled with the cold. She drew on her mittens and moved to Joseph’s side. Together they made their way through the silent village.

Just before they reached the wall, the town clock struck loud in the stillness. Alice pressed a hand to her beating heart. Eleven times it tolled; the last chime reverberated in her head as it died away.

We have one hour, she said, trying to still her racing heart. We need to go.

Joseph hoisted himself onto the wall and reached down for Alice’s hand. It was not very high, meant only to keep out wild animals. Alice scrambled up and over it. Once on the other side, she wrapped her cloak tightly around herself; here, unhampered by wall or building, the cold wind blew in her face and knifed through her clothing.

Together, she and Joseph turned south and walked briskly down the road.

It was a lonely path, bordered on both sides by fields which lay bare and ruinous after the harvest; trees jutted out along the roadside, dark and twisted and leafless.

On and on they walked, their steps becoming slower.

The moon cast a cold light on the path. Alice grew more and more weary. The deep silence lulled her, and her footsteps against the ground became a slow and pleasant rhythm.

Stop! Joseph’s voice startled her out of the dreamlike state she had fallen into.

They stood still, listening. Alice could just hear, as if on the edges of her mind, a strange music.

Together they turned until they faced northwards.

The forest is that way.

Joseph, she whispered. She caught his hand in hers. He was listening far too intently to the music. We can’t stop. We have to go on.

He walked alongside her, but every few seconds he turned his head and pulled against her hand. The faint strain of the music grew stronger. It drew Alice towards it against her will.

No, I refuse to go. We will not go.

She grasped Joseph’s hand more tightly, and so they walked.

Suddenly he stopped and tore his hand from hers. He turned to face the opposite direction.

No, Joseph! No!

There was a brief struggle; she wrapped her arms around Joseph’s shoulders, pressed him tight against her; the lamp fell from her hands, shattered, and went out. Joseph pulled away; the music beckoned to Alice, drawing her after him. Holding him back while resisting the music herself was too difficult; her grasp slipped.

For an instant she saw his face close to hers, white and terrified, before he ran back the way they had come.

She almost followed him. The music, wild and heady, throbbed in her head. Tears ran down her cheeks.

If I follow him, I can save him. I’m faster than he is. I can reach him before it’s too late.

But the enchantment was too strong; already it wrapped around her own mind, and if she did not turn now, she never would.

For an instant she stood undecided, staring after Joseph, but he had been swallowed by the darkness. It was no use; she must go on.

She drew a deep breath, faced south, and ran. The wind blew in her tear-streaked face; the pounding of her feet drowned out the music. Every time she paused, she heard it still pursuing her, and fear gave wings to her feet.

As she came in sight of a village clock tower, the ghostly figure of a child flitted by her.

It was followed by others. They passed without paying her any mind and went on towards the forest. Their silence unnerved her. Were they real, or simply the phantoms of former years?

Alice kept well out of their way, and soon they had faded and she was alone once more.

She went on.

The village loomed dark and silent before her and she passed through. She had left it some way behind when the clock tower tolled out the first hour after midnight, long and sad. The throbbing note died away and the last strains of music faded with it.

She stood still and strained her ears, but there was nothing.

Though she could no longer hear the music, she went on; there seemed nothing else to do. She left the last