You check your pockets and wonder if you have the gold for a second visit this week.īut if you sit really still, really, really still, on a humid Summer’s day, when it’s too hot even for the incessant buzzing of bugs, you will hear the real magic of the valley, your own heartbeat. The cries of the trader who parks her caravan twice a week in the town to sell her wares are also audible. On the breeze, you catch the shouts of a child, Jas from the ranch, playing tag with her uncle Shane. In fact you believe that they desperately want to help around the town, but are too shy perhaps? Maybe there is a book in the library that can help you? You don’t understand their cheeps and grunts, but they are harmless. Wisps at the corner of your eye initially gradually they overcome their shyness around you. If you’re lucky, and sitting in the fading light of sunset, you may hear the chatter of the junimos. It never ceases, running night and day, but only audible when you sit and really listen.
Mr Rasmodius is always cooking up something or other, but the sounds do not come from his cauldron, rather from somewhere deep within the earth under his home.
Below the birdsong and the snuffling of small mammals in the undergrowth, beneath the occasional sounds of planes passing in the sky, beneath the river’s burbling murmur, and the wind bustling the leaves, there is the faint chug-chug noise emanating from the direction of the Wizard’s Tower. If you sit at the centre of Cindersap Forest, south west of Pelican town and simply – listen, you can hear the magic that thrums through the valley.
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