Polly and Buster soar higher and higher. The bright blue leaves of the pall trees are easy to spot among the autumnal reds and golds of the other trees, and Polly can see they create a clear path that leads directly back to town.

They follow the blue streak towards home, just like Miss Spinnaker told them to, but Polly can still hear the cracking of sparks and smell the burning of grass and bushes. Her heart is a tight ball of shame.

It’s true! she thinks. Everywhere I go I cause trouble. That horrible Mrs Halloway would have never found the monsters’ hide-out if it wasn’t for me! She would never have found dear Flora and Mortimer. If it wasn’t for me, this war between witches and monsters wouldn’t have started at all!

The sun stings Polly’s eyes and her cheeks burn. She can feel Buster hiding his face in her wind-tangled hair and she knows he will have his eyes squeezed shut, queasy from the speed.

Polly knows Buster would like nothing more than to go home to a hot meal and a warm bath right now. There isn’t anything she would like more either, and of course she also wants to see her mother and even her sister again. And she knows she should do what her teacher told her to; after all, Miss Spinnaker is older and wiser and far more powerful than Polly could ever hope to be.

But the stones burn hot in her pocket. Calling her, pulling her, stronger than ever. And she can almost hear her father’s voice in her ear. Telling her to be brave. Telling her to listen to her heart.

I can’t just go home! Polly thinks. Not when everything is still so messed up out here!

And without another thought, she turns the broomstick around.

‘What are you doing?’ Buster yowls. ‘This isn’t the way home!’

‘I can’t let Mrs Halloway destroy the monsters’ hide-out,’ she yells, her chest filled with an anger that makes her feel fierce and brave. ‘She is after us, not them! Somehow, she keeps tracking us down. There must be some way she can sense where we are. How would she know to come looking for us at Flora and Mortimer’s house? Or even here, deep in the forest?’

The stones burn hotter and hotter as she flies towards Mrs Halloway. And suddenly Polly understands. ‘Of course! It’s the stones! Mrs Halloway can feel the pull of the stones, too, Buster! That’s how she has been able to track me down.’

She thinks about tossing the magic stones into the forest below, far from where Mrs Halloway is circling, to see if it will draw her away from the monsters’ hide-out. But then she sees Mrs Halloway swooping in and out of a thin line of smoke above the treetops, sparks flashing from her wand, and she has an even better idea.

‘Mrs Halloway!’ Polly yells, as loudly as she can. ‘Over here!’

Mrs Halloway looks up just as a flash from Miss Spinnaker’s wand below strikes the end of her broomstick. The bristles burst into flame. Mrs Halloway chants a spell to put out the fire, but even before Polly has spun her broomstick around again, she can see the Silver 500 has been damaged. It wobbles precariously, its bristles singed and smoking.

‘Over here!’ Polly yells again, glancing back over her shoulder, as she flies away from Mrs Halloway, across the treetops and towards the mountains. Even though Mrs Halloway’s broomstick has been hit, Polly knows she will have to fly as fast as she possibly can to avoid being caught.

‘Oh, Polly,’ Buster groans as he holds on tight. ‘Where are we going?’

‘We have to get Mrs Halloway away from the monsters,’ Polly shouts. ‘It’s my fault she found them. We have to make her follow us and then I’ll find us somewhere to hide.’

‘But where?’ Buster yelps. ‘You said she will find us anywhere as long as you have those stones in your pocket. Why don’t you just get rid of the stones, Polly?’

‘I can’t!’ Polly cries. ‘Don’t you see? Ever since Miss Spinnaker activated them they have been sending me messages, stronger and stronger. There’s something they want me to do. Something important. Something that might make everything OK again. They didn’t choose you, or Miss Spinnaker, or even my big sister, Winifred, who is much smarter and better at spells than I am. They chose me, Buster! I may have messed up a lot of things but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix them, too!’

Buster groans and Polly lifts her hand carefully from the broomstick handle to reach for his paw. ‘But I can take you home first if you want me to,’ she calls softly into the wind. ‘You didn’t ask to get caught up in all this trouble. I would absolutely understand if you wanted to go home now, Buster. I can do this last bit without you. The stones have chosen me to do this thing, whatever it is. Not you.’

Polly feels Buster’s paw shrink in her hand and she knows he is afraid. She knows he really, really wants to go home. But all the same, she secretly hopes deep in the bottom of her heart that he will say what she wants him to say. What he always says when Polly needs him most.

‘No, Polly,’ he says, his voice quiet but firm. ‘It’s me and you.’

Polly smiles as she answers him.

‘And you and me.’

‘And that’s the way
it will always be,’

they say together, and Polly’s heart soars with gratitude.

Because nothing is ever quite so scary with a best friend by your side.