Chronicles of Whetherwhy: The Age of Enchantment

PRAISE FOR

‘I adored this entrancing book. Full of gorgeous seasonal magic, lovable characters and writing as rich, warm and delicious as hot chocolate. An utter delight’ AISLING FOWLER, author of Fireborn

‘An enthralling adventure, shining with enchantment and the magic of the seasons’ PARI THOMSON, author of Greenwild

‘Brimming with charm, heart and magic, Chronicles of Whetherwhy is a modern classic. It is an immensely comforting book and I was hooked from the first page!’

NATASHA HASTINGS, author of The Miraculous Sweetmakers

‘As cosy as a cup of hot cocoa. The world Anna James has created is whimsical and warm, but filled with enough danger and intrigue to keep young readers turning the pages long after lights-out’ SKYE McKENNA, author of Hedgewitch

‘A wonderful tale of magic, friendship and bravery that will enchant readers for years to come. An instant classic’ LAURA NOAKES, author of Cosima Unfortunate Steals a Star

‘Wonderfully warm and bursting with magic.

I wanted it to never end’ PHILIPPA LEATHLEY, author of Inkbound

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Books by Anna James Chronicles of Whetherwhy The Age of Enchantment Pages and Co. Tilly and the Bookwanderers Tilly and the Lost Fairy Tales Tilly and the Map of Stories The Book Smugglers The Treehouse Library The Last Bookwanderer

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ILLUSTRATED BY

DAVID WYATT

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First published in the United Kingdom by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2024 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk HarperCollinsPublishers Macken House, 39/40 Mayor Street Upper Dublin 1, D01 C9W8, Ireland 1 Text copyright © Anna James 2024 Illustrations copyright © David Wyatt 2024 Cover illustration copyright © Artem Chebokha 2024 Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2024 All rights reserved ISBN 978–0–00–861157–6 WTS ISBN 978–0–00–872886–1 Anna James and David Wyatt assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work respectively.

Excerpt from Tales From Earthsea reproduced with permission of the Licensor through PLSclear. Copyright © Ursula Le Guin 2001 Excerpt from Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell reproduced with permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London on behalf of Susanna Clarke.

Copyright © Susanna Clarke 2004 A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

Typeset in Baskerville by HarperCollinsPublishers India Printed and bound in the UK using 100% Renewable Electricity at CPI Group (UK) Ltd Conditions of Sale This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

This book contains FSCTM certified paper and other controlled sources to ensure responsible forest management.

For more information visit: www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

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‘Things change:

authors and wizards are not always to be trusted: nobody can explain a dragon’ from Tales From Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin ‘“Where have they gone?”

“Wherever magicians used to go.

Behind the sky. On the other side of the rain”’ from Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke ‘The point is that the pleasures of spring are available to

everybody, and cost nothing’ from Some Thoughts on the Common Toad by George Orwell

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Prologue

‘

nce upon a time, or maybe it was a time that has not yet come to pass – or perhaps even at this very moment – there was an island called Whetherwhy. Some say it fell from the sky, others that it surfaced from the deep. Some claim that an earthquake cracked the land and caused it to separate and float away. But, wherever it came from, one thing is for sure. You could sail or walk or fly for a year and a day and never find the land of Whetherwhy.’

‘That’s impossible,’ says a child.

She is one of a gaggle of grandchildren sitting cross-legged at the feet of an old man with white hair wearing a burgundy cashmere jumper and corduroy trousers. He is sitting in a velvet armchair whose arms have been worn to a shiny softness 1

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through use. Bright spring sunshine spills on to them all. They are drinking cloudy lemonade.

‘When it comes to Whetherwhy,’ the grandfather says, ‘the impossible is as common as breakfast. It’s why it has been hidden away from the rest of the world. To protect itself and its magic.’

‘They have magic there?’ another grandchild asks, eyes full of wonder and envy and hope.

‘Of course they do,’ replies the grandfather. ‘Everyone there has a little bit of magic that is all their own, but each year a handful of enchanters are born – people who can see the magic in everything. Would you like to hear about what happened when someone found out they were an enchanter?’

The grandchildren nod and shuffle closer. Their grandfather smiles and leans down to pick up an old leather-bound book that creaks open just as an old book ought to. The children look up at him eagerly, for there is no argument that he is the best storyteller in the family – although they’ve never seen this particular book before.

‘All right then,’ he says. ‘This is the first Chronicle of Whetherwhy, which tells of an age of enchantment. It begins on the first day of spring, when the magic of every child of thirteen is weighed and measured.’

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1

uniper Quinn was curled up by the fire, reading a book, and her twin brother Rafferty was entirely focused on making a tiny origami bird, when a very cross man, accompanied by an equally grumpy-looking dog, appeared at the door of their family bookbindery.

‘You’ve lost it!’ he shouted, waving his walking stick at them. ‘You’ve lost my book! I always said twins were no good, get up to too much mischief ! Can’t tell you apart! It’s unsettling!’

Although Rafferty and Juniper were very clearly twins, with their matching red curly hair, green eyes and freckled, pale skin, no one paying any attention would mix them up.

As well as Rafferty being a boy and Juniper a girl, Juniper 3

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was an inch taller, and Rafferty had a kink in his nose from an unfortunate incident involving a butternut squash.

‘I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr . . . ?’ Rafferty said politely as Juniper sat in silent alarm, still wrenching her concentration from the world of her book where people travelled around in shiny red coaches and made magic from wires and something called electricity.

‘Mr Griffith! Bryn Griffith!’ the man shouted. ‘And you’ve lost my book! Where are your parents?’

‘Our father has gone to the bakery and our mother’s at the printing press,’ Juniper said politely, going to stand by Rafferty behind the desk. ‘Maybe we could help you find your book? Did you drop it off to be bound?’

‘Of course I did!’ Bryn said. ‘Why else would I be here!

And it’s my late wife’s cookbook, and you’ve lost it, and you’ve lost her recipes. You’ve lost a bit . . . well, a bit of her.

A bit I can’t get back again.’

As he said it, his anger drained away and he leaned wearily on his walking stick. Rafferty and Juniper exchanged a glance and a nod.

‘Why don’t you come and sit here, Mr Griffith?’ Rafferty said gently, leading him to the armchair Juniper had just vacated.

‘And I’ll get you a cup of chamomile tea,’ said Juniper.

‘We’ll find your book for you, I’m sure.’

A few moments later, she returned with a steaming mug to hear Bryn telling Rafferty about how he and his wife had met.

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‘And so she brought me a slice of carrot cake and I think I fell in love on the spot. She made the best carrot cake you could ever imagine,’ he explained. ‘And she would make it for me on my birthday, and it’s my birthday tomorrow, and the first since she’s gone, and I wanted to get her recipes all bound up nice, you see, to keep them safe.’

‘Of course,’ Juniper said with a tentative pat to Bryn’s hand as she handed him the tea. ‘I’m so sorry that we’ve caused you any upset – but I’m sure we won’t have lost it.

When did you bring it in?’

‘A month ago!’ Bryn said, getting a little irked again.

‘A whole month since I sent it off! Got young Peppermint to bring it to you and she said the gal at the desk told her it would be ready in a week! Two silver coins payable on collection!’

Rafferty went to check the bindery ledger, flipping back the thick parchment sheets until roughly a month ago. He ran his finger down the entries, looking for Bryn Griffith, or any mention of a handwritten cookbook, but there was nothing. He gave Juniper a look of concern.

‘Well, Mr Griffith, I’m afraid I can’t find any record of it being delivered,’ he said carefully. ‘But I’m sure we’ll track it down. Have you checked with Peppermint?’

‘Of course I have,’ he huffed. ‘She promises she brought it – said she gave it to a short gal with yellowy hair.’

‘Short with yellowy hair?’ Juniper repeated in confusion, for none of their family were particularly 5

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short, apart from eight-year-old Blossom, and not one of the seven Quinns had blond hair – the five children were either redheads after their father, or brunettes after their mother.

‘And look here,’ Mr Griffith said, pulling something out of his waistcoat pocket. ‘I clean forgot! Proof !’

He brandished a small slip of pink paper at them, marked at the top with Everink Printers. The twins breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I’m afraid Peppermint has got in a muddle,’ Juniper said gently. ‘She’s taken your recipe book up to the big printer’s on the estate; it never made it to us.’

‘So they’ve lost my book!’ Mr Griffith said.

‘I’m sure it’s only been put somewhere and forgotten,’ she replied. ‘They don’t even do hand-binding there – it’s just a bit of confusion that’ll be easily sorted.’

‘My old legs won’t get me up to Everink,’ Mr Griffith said with an exhausted sigh. ‘I’ll have to find another penny for Peppermint.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Rafferty said straightaway.

‘We’ll go up and find it for you. Why don’t you tell us how you wanted it bound, and we’ll put it in the ledger now so you don’t have to come back?’

‘You’d do that for an old man who stomped in here, shouting at you for a mistake that wasn’t yours?’ Bryn asked in surprise.

‘Of course,’ Juniper said. ‘It’s no bother. Did you have anything in particular in mind for the binding?’

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‘Something straightforward and pretty, just like my Heulwen was,’ Bryn said. ‘Maybe a sun; she was summer magic through and through. Or a honeysuckle for June, her birthday month.’

‘That sounds perfect,’ Rafferty said, jotting it down in the ledger, already picturing a beautiful embroidered honeysuckle.

He was still learning the family trade, but he thought he might ask his father if he could design this one himself.

Rafferty loved all things thread and stitching. Juniper had less of a natural affinity for the actual making of the books, preferring to read their contents.

‘Now, why don’t you sit here and have your tea,’ Juniper said to the old man, who looked like he might be about to doze off along with his dog. ‘I’ll get Ma to finalise everything for you, and one of us will pop up to the printer’s tomorrow, after the—’ But neither Bryn Griffith, his dog nor the twins were able to relax after the mystery of the missing book had been solved, for at that moment the bindery door burst open and Rowan Quinn, the twins’ father, ran in, panting heavily.

‘They’re coming!’ he gasped. ‘Early! The enchanters are almost here!’

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2

owan Quinn leaned against the doorframe, trying unsuccessfully to get his breath back before he spoke. ‘Where’s your ma? Maple! Come quickly!’

There was a bang, and their mother came in, inkyfingered.

‘Already?’ she said, wiping her hands. ‘We weren’t expecting them until at least teatime. They must’ve changed their schedule and come here before Haltwhistle.’

‘Did you see them, Pa?’ Juniper asked anxiously as Mr Griffith was ushered out of the door with promises of confirmation on his book later in the day.

‘Yes,’ said her father. ‘They stopped at the bakery as I was leaving. Oh! That reminds me.’

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He plonked down on the table a paper bag that smelled deliciously of cinnamon. The scent acted as a summoning to Juniper and Rafferty’s elder siblings, Hazel and Hickory, who were swiftly filled in on the news.

‘Deep breaths, everyone,’ Rowan said. ‘We knew this was taking place today, even if it’s earlier than planned. We know what’s going to happen.’

‘We don’t know what’s going to happen,’ Rafferty said a little accusingly, for he liked to plan and did not especially care for surprises.

‘It’s supposed to be a secret,’ Hazel said in an annoyingelder-sister sort of tone, even though she was only four years older than the twins.

‘Yes, but Primrose’s parents told her what the test was,’ Juniper said, who had dreamed up the most outlandish, terrifying possibilities in her mind.

‘Well, that’s Primrose’s parents’ choice; we have decided to follow the rules,’ Rowan said firmly. ‘It works best if you don’t know. Not that there’s anything you could do to prepare, so you mustn’t fret.’

‘You should worry more about how much blood you’ll lose!’ said Hickory with a wicked grin. ‘And I’ve heard it’s even worse than when I did it two years ago.’

Both twins simultaneously looked at their father in panic and he shot Hickory an exasperated look.

‘You won’t lose any blood,’ he promised. ‘Hickory, get away with you.’

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‘I would,’ Hickory replied, ‘but I thought you might be keen to read what’s just arrived in the post.’

And from behind his back he produced a folded piece of thick cream-coloured parchment stamped with a crest divided into quarters, each featuring one symbol: a plant shoot, a sun, a curling leaf and a snowflake. It was the crest of the Council of Months, the government of Whetherwhy, and marked for the attention of the twins.

Dear Juniper and Rafferty Quinn, On the Spring Ember Day of your thirteenth year, your presence is requested at Honeyvale Town Hall at noon for your guild affiliation and enchantment inspection. You do not need to bring anything with you other than one parent or guardian as chaperone. Your inspection will be carried out

by Professor Oleander Young of the Thistledown Academy of Enchantment, Councillor April of the Council of Months and a representative from the Druids of the Thirteenth Month.

We look forward to seeing you shortly.

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Rafferty read the letter aloud and then passed it to Juniper. As she reread it to herself, she tried to quell the queasy feeling that was building in her stomach. The thing about her magic that she had always known, and kept as a bright and uncertain secret within her, was about to be shared, and she rather suspected it would change everything.

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