Angus MacBain and the Island of Sleeping Kings

by Angela J. Townsend

  “No questions!” Cudweed barked. He turned his back and shambled down the stairs mumbling to himself.

  Glad to be rid of the old creep, Angus crossed the hall to his room, changed into a pair of dry jeans and started a fire. The cinders burned from a pale orange to a dark pumpkin. Mesmerized by the crackling flames, he collapsed into a chair and had almost fallen asleep when a buzzing next to his ear made him jump to his feet. Something whizzed past his left eye and swooped upward. He glanced at the ceiling just in time to see a wasp diving for his head. Angus swatted it to the floor. He would’ve smashed it with his foot if he had shoes on.

  Angus fumbled for an empty cigar box on the mantel and trapped the stunned wasp. A spark of excitement jumped through him. He’d take it to Vanora’s and examine it under her father’s microscope. Grinning, he slipped the box under his jacket and zipped it up. He’d never even been fast enough to catch a fly before, let alone a wasp. Just as he reached for the door he heard his aunt yell at Cudweed. “Find it, ye idiot. Don’t let it get away.”

  “Yes, my highness,” Cudweed grunted.

  “Highness?” Angus smirked, she did fit the part of an evil queen. Without warning, the bedroom door burst open. Aunt Prudence and Cudweed charged into his room. She looked around, eyes wild. Angus stared at his aunt in disbelief. Green gunk coated her head, releasing a stench that burned his eyes and crawled up his nose. But her face was smooth and free of wrinkles. She looked ten years younger, at least.

  “What’s on your head?” Angus stammered.

  Prudence’s eyes went wide in surprise. She reached her hands up and patted her head. “Seaweed hair mask,” she said nervously.

  She sprang forward and gripped Angus’ shoulders. “Have ye seen any bugs in here?” Angus struggled to free himself. With each movement of her head, she splattered bits of the stinky green substance onto his face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. The smell made his eyes water and he pinched his nose. “Bugs? No I haven’t.”

  Prudence leaned closer and a loose strand of hair fell from where it was spackled with goo on top of her head.

  She sneered, gripping his shoulders tighter. “Are ye tellin’ the truth?”

  Angus jerked his shoulders free. The oozing strand of hair swiped across his face and a gob of the greasy gunk slithered across his lips. “Yuk!”

  Angus wiped the sludge off with the back of his hand. It tasted like rotten fish. Under his coat, the trapped wasp rattled in the box. Angus’ heart hammered. He prayed she wouldn’t hear it. “What reason would I have to lie?”

  Prudence snatched his arm. “Ye better be tellin’ me the truth or it’ll be the strap fer ye, boy.” She released him and stormed from the room in a huff. Her bedroom door slammed shut. Cudweed sneered at him and shuffled away.

  Angus tiptoed into the hallway and hurried down the stairs with the cigar box. The wasp buzzed inside, hitting the sides like a tiny bullet, furious at the abduction. “Be quiet,” he whispered. If his aunt heard the buzzing he’d be done for.

  Angus hurried to Vanora’s, listening to the wasp chewing at the sides of the box. Something sharp stabbed into the palm of his hand. He let out a yelp, grasped the box with his other hand and flipped it over. The creature’s sharp stinger protruded from the bottom.

  He shook the pain off and dashed to Vanora’s house, nervous that the angry insect might make an escape, or worse, that his aunt would realize he’d lied and sic Cudweed on him to retrieve the metal wasp.

  ****

  Vanora sat in a lawn chair outside the cottage. She took a sip of tea, set the cup on the front step and stood to greet him. “You’re up early,” she said.

  Angus huffed, trying to catch his breath. “I’ve got one of those wasps in my jacket.”

  Vanora flushed and took a step back. Angus patted the box. “It’s all right, I’ve got it trapped. Let’s see if we can get a look at it under your father’s microscope.” He furrowed his brow and chewed on his lower lip. “It’s pretty mad right now.”

  Angus pulled the cigar box out from beneath his jacket.

  Vanora shivered. “I hate those things. How did you catch it?”

  “The creepy-creature flew into my room and I swatted and stunned it. Anyhow, I’d just captured it when my aunt stormed in looking for it. And I think I know why. She’s building them to spy on me.”

  Vanora frowned. “But why?”

  Angus shook his head. “I don’t know, but she’s up to something bad. Before dawn, I had to hike to the top of this steep hill and fill a bunch of buckets with water for her. What could she be doing with all that water?”

  “Was it the tallest hill on the island?” Vanora asked.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Did you get the water from a spring?”

  Angus nodded.

  “That’s the Well of Eternal Youth. An ancient tale says that if a woman puts the water on her face before sunrise, she’ll stay young forever. Legend also has it the water will keep monsters in human form on land.”

  “She’s horrible enough to be a monster and she reeks of seaweed. She even had the guck on her head.”

  “On her head?”

  “Yeah she tried to tell me it was a hair mask but it looked as if it were attached to her scalp.”

  “I’ve heard some stories about her. Everyone says she’s a wacko.”

  Angus chuckled sarcastically. “Wacko is putting it nicely. She spends all her time locked up in her room making those horrible insects.”

  Vanora raised her eyebrows and focused on the cigar box. “Let’s take a look at that wasp.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “How are we going to get it out without getting stung?”

  Angus thought for a moment. “It’s made of metal and wires, I’m sure. If we get it soaking wet, maybe we can short circuit it. There’s already a hole in the bottom where it tried to stab me with its stinger, but I don’t think it’s wide enough.”

  “Wait a moment.” Vanora rushed to her father’s desk and pulled open the top drawer. She hurried back to Angus with a pair of tweezers, a darning needle and a piece of rubber tubing. “We’ll make our own hole and fill the box with water before it gets out.”

  “Yeah, good plan,” Angus said. “If we drown the thing it can’t hurt us.” He held up the box. “And I hope this works. No telling what it will do if it gets out.”

  Angus packed the box to the sink and, using the needle, poked a hole in the top. The wasp, sensing the intrusion, chewed madly, widening the gap with its razor-sharp teeth, struggling to get out. Angus jammed the tube inside and filled the box with water. To his horror, the box started to dissolve quicker than he thought it would. First, the bottom turned into soggy sludge, then the sides wilted. Finally the top caved in. He held the waterlogged mess, his eyes darting back and forth searching for the wasp. Angus carefully flipped the drippy lump over and the wasp fell into the sink with a dull thud, not moving.

  Vanora elbowed past him, and pinched it between the tweezers. “I’ve got it captured, just in case it isn’t dead.” She carried the insect over to the microscope, slid it under the glass and put her eye to the lens. Slowly, she turned the handle to focus it. “Wow, it’s metal all right, with all sorts of gadgets on it.”

  Vanora stepped aside and Angus peered into the microscope. Just as he thought, underneath its hairy belly hung a tiny camera. Angus re-focused the lens to get a closer look. On its droopy wings, retractable dagger-like thorns projected. The insect twitched. Angus’ heart leapt, and then the wasp sputtered and exploded. Green slime erupted from its body, releasing a horrible stench. The odor of fried seaweed.

  Vanora hurried to the kitchen window and wedged it open. “Phew, gross!”

  “I told you she was a spy,” Angus snapped. Did you see the weapons it has on it? Those sharp thorns could really do some damage.”

  “No kidding, tell me about it.” She pointed to her neck. “I know one thing. You’re not going back there, Angus. Not for anything. You’ll stay
here and live with us. It’s not safe for you to stay there anymore.”

  He set his jaw. “I want to get my clothes and my grandfather’s things.”

  “I bet you really miss him.”

  Angus nodded.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Vanora said. “What happened to your parents?”

  “They died in a boating accident when I was eight,” Angus said, his voice dropping.

  “Oh, that must be so hard.” Vanora sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Angus said, “me too.”

  “I haven’t been through anything as horrible as that, but I did go through a rough patch when my mum left us.”

  “Your mom left you?”

  Vanora gazed out the living room window. Her shoulders hunched and she intertwined her arms around herself. “Yes, she wanted to be a rock star or some such nonsense. Never did become one, but she has enough ex-husbands that are musicians to fill Carnegie Hall.” Vanora sighed. “I miss her a lot.”

  “That sucks,” Angus said.

  Vanora shrugged. “It’s okay. Anyhow, you’re welcome to stay here.”

  “Would it be ok with your dad?”

  “He’d love it. He always wanted a boy. Besides, I don’t have to ask. It was his idea. He told me it would be fine by him if you stayed with us.”

  “Really? When did he tell you that?” Angus asked.

  “The night that Cudweed came to fetch you. We were both worried for you.”

  A lump formed in his throat and he followed Vanora outside. It felt good to know someone cared about him. And it was certainly nice to have such interesting friends. Vanora didn’t seem to mind his size, or maybe she was just nice enough not to mention it.

  They set off for his aunt’s house, stopping just before the trail that led to the old estate. Sheep dotted the curving flanks of the grassy hillside. A salty breeze, heavy and rich with dampness from the sea, made Angus shiver.

  “If Cudweed gives us any trouble, just ignore him. I think he’s all gruff and bluff.”

  “I’ll try,” Vanora said. “But, he really freaks me out. Especially the way he’s always leering at people. Like he hates everyone.”

  “I know,” Angus said.

  They crept around the corner, keeping an eye out for Cudweed. They walked to the front door and stepped inside.

  “Burr, it’s cold in here,” Vanora whispered. She wrinkled her nose. “And it smells funny, like burnt rubber and ground up metal, just like that dead bug.”

  “Come on,” Angus said. He hurried to the foot of the stairs, his heart racing.

  When they got to the top of the staircase, Prudence stepped out of the shadows and blocked them in.

  “Thought ye could get away with it, didn’t ye?” she said in a soft, vicious tone.

  “G-get away with what?” Angus stammered hearing his own pulse thunder in his ears.

  “Don’t play stupid with me, boy. Ye know very well ye took that wasp. I saw ye drown it.”

  Angus glared at Prudence. “So you were spying on us.”

  Prudence sneered down at him. “Cudweed,” she bellowed.

  The creepy caretaker lumbered up behind them and grabbed Vanora’s arm. Angus rushed to help her, but she kicked at Cudweed. He lost his balance and nearly tumbled down the stairs.

  “Get them!” Prudence yelled.

  Angus shoved Cudweed aside, grabbed Vanora’s hand and ran down the steps and out the front door. They didn’t stop until they reached the top of the hill. Vanora tripped and fell onto her side. Angus put his hands on his knees. His chest burned like it was on fire and, to make matters worse, he spotted Cudweed not far away, limping after them.

  Angus reached down and Vanora took his hand. He spotted his aunt scuttling close behind Cudweed. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”

  Vanora scrambled to her feet, her pink jeans stained with dirt. They continued running until they rounded the next corner encircling the cliffs. Angus struggled to catch his breath.

  Vanora sprinted past him. “Come on, they’re gaining on us!”

  Angus glanced over his shoulder. Cudweed was almost on him. But Angus couldn’t go any faster. His legs ached and his heart thundered. “Look out!” Vanora screamed.

  Cudweed’s corded hand gripped the back of Angus’ jacket and the old man tackled him to the ground.

  “Help!” Angus yelled.

  Cudweed tried to shut him up by wrapping a grimy hand around his mouth. He bit down hard on the man’s thumb. The caretaker yelped and let go. Angus rolled to one side and clambered to his feet. As he tried to step back, Cudweed grabbed his ankle, his fingernails digging through Angus’ sock and into his skin. Vanora ran to Angus’ side and stomped on the man’s arm. Prudence leapt forward and seized Vanora by a thick wad of curly hair. Angus slammed his shoulder into the old woman. She let go of Vanora and fell onto her rump.

  “I’ll get ye, boy,” Prudence cried, scrambling to her feet.

  Angus stopped a few feet away, bent over, chest heaving to catch his breath. Vanora rushed to his side and grabbed his hand. “We have to keep going.”

  Behind them came a terrible growl. Cudweed struggled to get up, his feet slipping in the grass. Angus and Vanora rounded a corner. Angus’ lungs burned, he couldn’t take another step. To his surprise, he spotted Fane sitting on a rock, arms folded, a long blackthorn stick at his side.

  Fane pointed to a rocky outcropping. “Hide behind there. I’ll deal with your pursuers.”

  The kids ducked behind the rocks while Fane stood to face Cudweed. When Cudweed arrived, Fane held out the long stick. “Stay where you are. Or I’ll send you back.”

  Cudweed sneered and pointed at Fane. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Fane raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why wouldn’t I?”

  Prudence jogged up the hill. Strands of greasy hair escaped the knotted bun on the top of her skull and whipped about her head like the arms of an octopus. She wheezed, trying to catch her breath. Angus noticed something he hadn’t seen before—three slits on each side of her neck that opened with every inhale. Could they be gills?

  She stopped short at the sight of Fane. Her periwinkle blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Ye have no business here, old man.”

  She raised her bony hand and at once a swarm of metal wasps flew from her dress sleeve. Fane made one wave with his blackthorn stick and they all fell to the ground like tiny stones.

  He took a step closer to Prudence and scowled. “From what you once were, you shall return, nothing more than slimy sludge.”

  Prudence paled. She raised a shaky fist. “Ye have no power in this world.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But Angus does.”

  Fane signaled Angus to stand at his side and whispered in his ear. “Tell her to return to the sea. She’s nothing but a common Sea Hag, that’s why she has to manufacture those wasps, but you, my dear boy, are a descendant of King MacBain, crusader of all that is sacred and good. Now you must demand she go back, back to the sea where she and you both came from.”

  Angus stared at Fane in disbelief.

  Fane nodded. “There’s no time now…send her back.”

  The once-dead wasps rose from the ground and swarmed around Angus. He swatted and waved his arms madly as they bore into him, tearing at his flesh.

  Fane waved his stick. Brilliant colored sparks flew from the tip. The wasps fell lifeless to the ground again. The end of the stick smoked with a fiery glow.

  Angus’ blood boiled and he glared at Prudence. “Go back to the sea!”

  Nothing happened.

  Fane stepped forward and gave Angus a stern look. “You must have faith, my boy. It’s not by magic that this spell works—it’s by faith, boy. Faith in all that is good and holy.”

  Prudence cackled. “He’s weak, he doesn’t believe in anything.” A drip of green saliva ran down the corner of her mouth. She threw her head back and laughed.

  An image of his grandfather flashed in his mind. Angus clutched t
he amulet and narrowed his eyes at Prudence. The voice that came from his throat hardly sounded like his own. “Go back, into the sea. Beneath the sludge and seaweed where you belong!”

  Prudence’s eyes widened. She stretched out her arms. Starting at her shoulders, both arms turned to mush like cooked spinach with big drippy pods. Green slime crept up her neck and down her torso to her legs. “No!” she gurgled. She pinned Angus with her eyes. “You’ll pay for this boy, you’ll….” Her head turned to mush cutting off her final words. She melted into a ball of gunk that oozed, slunk, and slid over the rocky cliff and splattered into the ocean in great slimy strands.

  Angus stared at the water’s surface. A blob of greasy goop floated on top of the waves like an oil slick. All that was left of Prudence rested on the rock where she once stood: a pair of empty black boots coated in goo. They quivered, then toppled to one side, overflowing with what looked like mint jelly.

  Vanora shuddered. “Gross!”

  Cudweed leapt forward and growled. Fane made a motion to protect Angus by holding out his blackthorn stick in front of him. Cudweed stopped, glared at Fane, then scrambled away and down the hill. Fane chased after him. Angus followed, but by the time they reached the bottom, Cudweed had vanished. Angus scanned the area. How could the guy have disappeared so fast?

  Angus and Vanora followed close behind Fane, sprinting down a rutted path where a black horse and buggy waited. He motioned at the kids. “Get in, we must hurry.”

  They rushed to the carriage. Angus climbed aboard beside Fane and reached down to help Vanora. Soon as she was seated, Fane snapped the reins and the horse bolted forward, its nostrils wide and scarlet. The buggy roared down the trail behind the fiery steed. They covered so much ground Angus swore its dark hooves never touched the earth.

  Fane’s eyes went wild. “We have to beat him back to his cottage.”

  “Why?” Angus shouted over the racket of the carriage, but Fane ignored him, set at the task at hand.

  The buggy jostled hard to the right and Angus grabbed for the side to keep from bumping into Vanora. Fane reined the horse to a stop in front of Cudweed’s cottage, jumped out, and hurried inside. Angus and Vanora ran behind him.