Phoenix Maplewood What if the witches wrote the book

Starbuck took to the terrain gamely, rangy legs carrying her quickly and with certainty. Dexterity was her strong suit. Arch was ever present behind her and seemed unused to the woodland. She slowed for his sake, dropping back to trot by his side. You think so? she said. Sense of direction wasn't something she'd ever thought long on, but it did seem to be coming in handy now. We should pace ourselves, my friend. We have far to go. We must reach the mountains, for the Marauder's Keep lies at their feet.