"Deleted Scene" from Witchwood

Ah, the delete button. How writers hate that button. It consumes vast acres of novel and leaves them as nothing but thoughts. This little sequence is one of which I am rather proud, but it was simply getting in the way of the story, a bit like Bilbo Baggins getting nicked by a troll. So it had to go, but I thought I would give it one last breath of fresh air.

Imagine yourself in Hannah's shoes, walking along a forest path under a grey sky, with a goblin, a wizard, and a gyspy girl, far far away from home...

It was past noon when they stumbled over the first statue. In Hannah's case, she did indeed literally stumble over it, and looked down at the small stone hare in surprise. It had been carved in mid-leap, ears flat against its stone head.

“Funny,” Stumpwort muttered, then bypassed it and carried on.

Barely a minute later, Candy touched Hannah's shoulder and pointed into the trees – another statue stood there, this time of a fox. Stumpwort's brow darkened and he shuffled ahead more quickly, Hannah trotting in his wake.

Only when they spilled out into a small clearing, with statues on every side, did Stumpwort come to a halt and swear under his breath.

“What's wrong?” Hannah asked edgily, looking around. A stone elf to one side seemed to be looking at her, its expression mildly confused. Stranger still was the small stone sparrow perched as an afterthought on its head.

“Can't believe I didn't see it before,” Stumpwort growled. “Close your eyes, all of you.”

“Why?” asked Hannah, glancing about.

“Now!” Stumpwort snapped, shocking Hannah into doing as he said. She screwed her eyes closed, sensing Candy behind her doing the same. She could hear Harman's breath whistling through his long nose to her right.

“A termerous,” Stumpwort said. “Should have figured it out before now. Keep your eyes closed.”

Hannah heard Harman exhale slowly. “And what's a termerous?”

“Probably the best defence mechanism in the Wood,” Stumpwort said. His voice was moving away. “Meet their eyes and you turn to stone.”

Hannah swallowed and twisted her head frantically left and right, as if she could see the monster coming. “Where are you going?”

“Circling round behind it,” Stumpwort's voice came from somewhere over to her left. “Too dangerous to leave it this close to the trail.”

“Stand still,” Harman said calmly. “Don't open your eyes, whatever you do.”

Hannah stood for what felt like hours, her eyes tightly closed, her breathing shallow. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a rustling noise came from the trees in front of her.

“Did you hear that?” she asked quietly.

There was no answer, and it occurred to her, in a horrible moment, that both Candy and Harman had indeed heard it – that they had instinctively looked in that direction, and had instantly, silently, turned to stone.

There was another noise – a scuttling sound, and Hannah's breath caught in her throat as she imagined the unseen creature leaning over her, wondering whether to turn her to stone or leave her soft and tender, ready to eat.

Then there was a sharp twang – a whistling noise and a thud.

“It's all right,” Stumpwort said from very close by, and Hannah nearly cried in relief. “You can look.”

Hannah opened her eyes and immediately looked from side to side. She need not have worried; Harman and Candy were still there, still breathing, gazing at something on the ground at Hannah's feet. She looked around fearfully, wondering what the beast that stalked them would look like.

A new statue had joined those in the glade of the dead; a small, furry stone creature like a duck-billed platypus, no bigger than a kitten, its beak half open, a stone arrow protruding from its tiny body.