The Adventures of Artemis Hexley

ABOUT A GIRL • Into the Light of the Dark Black Night

The sun was high in the sky, its beams reflecting on the bobbing waves and warming the umber cliffs. A breeze was rolling in from the sea and across the cliff tops, whipping the already messy dark hair of the little girl running along the path, a slim man following in her wake, his auburn hair graying with age.

Artemis Hexley had been living in Dorset with her great-uncle Newt and great-aunt Tina for several months now. It had been a temporary arrangement at first, Artemis' mother having been too unwell to look after her after her older brother Jacob disappeared in the night back in November, but the longer Artemis had stayed, the less likely it seemed that she would ever return home to her mother's house in London.

She knew that most children probably would have been upset by the idea of leaving both their home and their only living parent to stay with aging distant relatives, but Artemis was not like most other children; she was a witch. And, moreover, Uncle Newt was not at all like other relatives. He was a Magizoologist, a wizard who specialised in studying and caring for magical creatures, and a very good one at that. The house he shared with Aunt Tina was also home to a menagerie of creatures: three Kneazles, a particularly naughty Niffler, several Knarls that frequented the back garden, a fireplace full of Salamanders, and a herd of mooncalves that danced on the front lawn every full moon. And not only was Uncle Newt great at caring for these creatures, he always knew exactly where to find them.

Today, he was taking Artemis further along the cliffs to see the orchard where the Bowtruckles had been nesting in the trees. Excited, she ran ahead of him, every now and then alternating her quick steps with a clumsy cartwheel, until she reached the orchard, where the trees were swaying gently in the wind. She fell almost completely silent; Bowtruckles were shy creatures, and she would be unlikely to see any if she made any loud noises.

But, as she stayed quiet, she became able to hear a noise coming from the grass underneath a nearby tree. She frowned. It didn't sound like a Bowtruckle, more like a bird, and not a very happy bird at that.

Artemis decided to investigate, and on doing so, she found herself to be right. Under the tree stood a small blackbird, chirping sadly as he held his wing out to his side. The feathers had been ruffled, and it looked like there was a cut on the wing, but when Artemis tried to get a closer look, the blackbird hopped away from her, looking frightened.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Artemis told the blackbird. "I just wanted to look at your wing. It looks like it's been scratched. Did one of the Kneazles scratch you? Was it Mauler? He scratched me once, too. Look." She pointed to her cheek, where she still had a small scar from the time she had tried to pick Mauler the Kneazle up without asking first. "Can I pick you up? I won't hurt you, I promise, I just want to take you to my Uncle. He'll be able to fix your wing for you so you can fly again."

The blackbird didn't seem overly happy about being picked up, but he at least didn't scratch Artemis when she tried. She held him as gently as possible as she carried him back along the cliff path to Uncle Newt.

"What have you found, Artemis?" he asked her, crouching down to look at what she had in her hands. "A blackbird?"

Artemis nodded. "He's got a poorly wing. Can you fix it?"

Uncle Newt took the little bird from Artemis and carefully examined it, all the while murmuring to it so softly that she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying. Eventually, he looked up at Artemis and sighed.

"You can make him better again, can't you?" she asked him.

"I can try," said Uncle Newt. "But he will need some medicine to fix his wing, and he's very weak. He'll need a lot of looking after, and-"