Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery mm-5

by Georgia Byng

  “Disturbance for queen!” one of them protested.

  “O Queen are you happy?” another asked the big fat worm.

  “Comp-leeeeeeeeeeeeeet-ly,” came the deep sonorous tones of the queen. “Laaaaarva-lee.”

  Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton didn’t seem remotely bothered by the queen or the other termites. Their attention was solely fixed upon the glowing, weather-changing stones in front of them. Miss Hunroe squealed with delight, and Miss Oakkton cackled with mirth as the chamber throbbed and glowed.

  Molly wasn’t sure what to do next. The termites had finished fixing the wall and were moving off. Molly couldn’t think of a good reason why she should be in the chamber any longer. Reluctantly her eyes settled on the oozing, bubbling, slimy queen. She could, she supposed, be a termite feeding the queen. Slowly, Molly moved toward the smelly, sluggy creature.

  Thirty

  Micky and Lily followed the friendly, scruffy dog through the rain. They arrived at a bush-covered cliff ledge where there was a low wooden stool. Micky and Lily peered over low ferns to see what was down below. Immediately they saw the collection of huts in the clearing. One hut had rabbit skins pegged out on a board outside it.

  “Wonder who lives here,” Micky whispered. As though in answer, they heard a dog barking. “That sounds just like Petula!” Micky gasped. “It’s coming from that shed.” Micky stroked the mountain dog. “Good boy.”

  Lily began pushing through the sopping leaves ahead. “How do we get down there?”

  Micky grabbed her arm. “I think Petula’s locked up, Lily. We don’t know who lives down there. It could be really dangerous. We’re going to have to play this one carefully. “

  Lily stared at him. “Who’s locked her up? Do you think Molly is with her? Or Malcolm?”

  “I don’t know,” said Micky. “Let’s watch for a bit and see.”

  And so Micky and Lily waited. Petula could obviously smell them, for she continued to bark. Their patience paid off. In five minutes Miss Teriyaki and Miss Speal, both holding glasses containing some sort of brown liquid, emerged unsteadily from one of the huts.

  “Ooh, it’s raining cats and dogs!” Miss Teriyaki exclaimed. Then, ignoring the downpour, the two women went to the shed where Petula was locked up. Both were giggling.

  “Miss Hunroe is going to be furious when she finds out that you found a pug and didn’t tell her!” Miss Speal tittered. “I mean, how could you think that the breed of pug was native to Ecuador?”

  “I don’t know!” Miss Teriyaki replied, hiccupping, and then laughed. “What an idiot I am! What a twit! I’m going to get into so much trouble!” When she said this, both of the women fell about, giggling.

  “That’s not funny!” Miss Speal exclaimed. “She’ll skin you alive! We know how nasty she can be!”

  Micky watched them. “Miss Speal and Miss Teriyaki. Drunk as skunks!” he whispered.

  Miss Teriyaki picked up her poison-dart tube.

  “I could always get rid of the dog now,” she said. “Blow a dart and finish it off. This poison kills instantaneously, you know.”

  “I could cook it and give Miss Hunroe dog pie for supper!” At this suggestion, the two ladies folded over with laughter.

  “Ooh, you are so funny, Miss Speal! I can’t think why we haven’t gotten on like this before.”

  “Maybe Miss Oakkton’s special rain-forest brew has something to do with it,” Miss Speal replied, slurring her words. “Come on, let’s have some more.”

  With that, they sauntered back to the hut.

  The two children tried to think what to do next.

  “I could morph into one of them,” Micky suggested.

  “Or couldn’t you hypnotize them?”

  Micky made a face. “I can’t hypnotize.”

  It was then that Lily noticed a bunch of keys on the table outside the hut.

  “Look! Bet those are the padlock keys,” Lily whispered. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Canis watched the two humans and wondered what they were talking about. He could smell fear on both of them. Then he saw the girl beginning to edge forward.

  Lily parted the ferns and, finding footholds below, climbed carefully down the slope. Once at encampment level, she quickly crossed the wet dirt ground behind the kitchen hut, and quiet as a cunning fox she crept toward the women’s cabin. The radio was on. The voice of a newsreader blasted out of the hut.

  “We are getting reports of strange tornadoes in the northern Pacific. These are causing grave concerns that tidal waves will hit the west coast of America, costing millions of lives.”

  “Oh, not more weather!” Miss Teriyaki complained. “Switch channels!” Ecuadorian pop music now blared out into the damp mountain air. “Ooh, yeah!” Miss Teriyaki shouted. “Move yer body!”

  “What a dancer you are, Miss Teriyaki!” Miss Speal cried.

  “I know! You should see me with my disco outfit on!”

  Lily ignored them. She tiptoed past cautiously, dodging behind a bin and moving silently in the rain. The padlock keys twinkled in the dappled green light. Taking a deep breath, Lily shot toward them. Swiftly she grabbed them from the table and darted behind the kitchen hut. As she did, Petula began barking again. Lily winced. If Petula made too much noise, the women would be out again. Lily had to act immediately. So as quickly as she could, she stole across to Petula’s shed.

  “Shh. Petula! It’s me, Lily, but you have to be quiet.” She matched a key to the padlock, put it in, and turned it.

  Light flooded into the hut, and Petula bounded out and leaped up into Lily’s arms.

  “Good girl!” she whispered. She looked at the keys. She knew she ought to return them, because then the women would still think that Petula was locked up. And so, slipping behind the kitchen work table, she began making her way back to the disco hut.

  But as she approached, the hut door opened. Miss Speal stumbled out. And as she lurched forward, she saw Lily.

  “Aaaah!” she shrieked.

  Lily turned. “Petula!” she shouted. “Follow me!” She began to scramble for the slope. But it was too late.

  “It’s a girl, Miss Teriyaki!” Miss Speal screamed, diving after Lily. “Get her!” As she rushed forward, Miss Teriyaki came out of the hut. She was clasping her poison-dart pipe. Lily glanced behind her and saw her putting it to her lips.

  “Quick, Petula!” she urged.

  She ran, but Miss Speal ran, too, like a lean, thin, muscley athlete. She tripped over a trailing root, but this did not hold her up for long. She was now alarmingly close. Petula shot past Lily, barking encouragement as she went. And then Lily slipped. She trod on a shiny leaf and slipped down the slope. Miss Speal, her hand like some horrid killer vine grabbing around Lily’s ankle, caught her foot.

  But as she did, something else happened, too. Miss Teriyaki blew her poison-dart pipe. Drunk as she was, her weapon jolted sideways as she blew it, and the poison dart intended for Lily hit Miss Speal’s bony bottom. Miss Speal froze, her expression one of utter surprise, as though a monkey had just appeared in front of her dressed in a pink tutu. She winced and then squealed. “Eeeehweeer!” And then she turned green.

  Lily didn’t stop to watch her keel over. She shook her foot free and scrambled up the hill as fast as she could.

  Micky watched Miss Speal fall. Like a bird shot down with perfect aim, she fell backward, dead on the ground.

  Miss Teriyaki saw what she had done and screamed. And then, full of fury, for she blamed Lily entirely, she began to chase her. With her poison-dart pipe clutched in her right hand and spare darts in the other, she leaped up the slope.

  “Come on!” Lily cried. And she and Micky, Petula, and Canis bolted.

  They ran on blindly, trying to keep together as they went. Leaves and wet branches whipped their faces, bushes caught them and the vines tripped them up, but still they ran. And behind, they heard Miss Teriyaki’s war cries as she too sprinted through the undergrowth. She was like some horrific hunt
er, intent on the kill. Micky and Lily had no doubt that they were her prey. They waited to feel the sharp stab of one of her darts, followed by the rush of poison in their blood. Micky turned to check how close behind she was.

  It was then that he saw that Petula had stopped. Like a person standing on a road waiting for a car to run them over, she was standing waiting for Miss Teriyaki.

  “Petula, come on!” Micky cried. But Petula didn’t budge. She sat still and expectantly, her velvety ears pricked up.

  The horrid form of Miss Teriyaki came bursting out through the trees. Her face was pulled into ugly contortions, and she was growling like a wild animal. But still Petula didn’t move. And then, suddenly, Miss Teriyaki’s face changed.

  She began to smile inanely, and then she stopped running. She dropped her blowpipe and fell on her knees with her mouth hanging open.

  Petula’s hypnotic eyes stared up at hers, glowing and throbbing. The woman was completely at her mercy, trapped in the cage of Petula’s mesmerism.

  “Stop, Lily!” Micky cried. “Look!”

  Micky went over and picked up Petula and hugged her. “You are brilliant!” he said, brimming with admiration. He gave her soft fur a stroke. “Still sucking stones, I see.”

  “Do you think she’s properly hypnotized?” Lily asked nervously, going up to the puppetlike version of Miss Teriyaki and prodding her.

  “I think she is,” said Micky with a smile.

  “Amazing,” barked Canis, sitting down by Petula’s side. “Did you do that?”

  “Yes. I’ve done it before, but it was a risk. I didn’t know it was going to work,” said Petula with a smile.

  “You are a brave dog,” Canis said with a nod.

  “What are we going to do with her?” asked Lily, slumping down beside Micky.

  The forest calm had now returned. A parrot squawked from a nearby tree and a couple of monkeys went back to foraging for sweet tree orchids. There was a rustling noise in the bushes to the left. A few guinea pigs—an orange, a black-and-white one, and a brown—came out from the cover and began to graze on the lush grass.

  “Look, guinea pigs!”

  “Yes, they have them up here,” said Micky. “I think the forest people actually eat them.”

  “Really? I used to have a smooth-haired guinea pig as a pet,” Lily reminisced. Then she looked over at Miss Teriyaki, who sat on her haunches in front of them.

  “You don’t suppose…”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Micky asked.

  “I think I might be.”

  “You do it,” Micky said. And so Lily began.

  She looked hard into Miss Teriyaki’s mean face. “From now on, Miss Teriyaki, you will think you are a mountain guinea pig, and you will be happy being a mountain guinea pig….” The Japanese woman nodded. Then she got down on her hands and knees and squeaked a high-pitched squeak. “And…” Lily continued, taking her task very seriously, “you won’t be lonely, because there are lots of other guinea pigs in the forest that you will make friends with. And I lock this instruction in with…with the word ‘Lily.’”

  Miss Teriyaki snuffled, then she wrinkled her nose. Seeing the other guinea pigs, she scuttled toward them on her hands and knees. They gave a yeep and moved away.

  “Oh, they’ll get used to her,” Lily said.

  “Amazing,” Canis said to Petula. “Now do you think you can find your friend Molly?”

  Petula lifted her head to sense where Molly was. Sucking on the smooth blue stone that felt so watery and cool in her mouth, she began to concentrate. Above her there was a roll of thunder.

  Thirty-one

  Rain slapped down on the outside of the termite mound as though hundreds of tiny hands were patting it over and over and over. Molly moved closer to the squelchy queen termite. Behind her, Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton toyed with the weather stones. Molly tried to work out what to do, but it was difficult to concentrate, as to the left of her a large red termite with enormous mandibles was clicking its pincers together and tutting.

  “You no invitey to feeeeeeed queen,” it niggled nastily. Molly tried to ignore the criticism, but again the termite complained, “You no feeder. You no foooood.”

  “I bringeeee queen fooodee later,” Molly said, hoping this would shut the insect up.

  “Later laaaater?” it screeched, alerting another termite.

  “Out out. No later foodee YOU NO FEEDER!” it insisted. The queen said nothing, though bubbly noises squelched out from under her. Molly stood up on her back legs, hoping it would intimidate the nosy termites. Now more turned upon her.

  “You should knowee rulesees,” the first nagged.

  “OUT OUTEE NOWEEE!” With a push Molly was shoved backward so that she toppled close to Miss Hunroe and the stones. Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton looked down at the fallen termite near them, and their antennas twitched. They were at once suspicious.

  Miss Oakkton stepped toward the stray termite and trapped one of Molly’s legs in her pincers. Miss Hunroe peered down at her.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her big eyes bulging. Molly didn’t answer. It was terrifying to have her leg trapped in Miss Oakkton’s pincers. Desperately, she tried to think. She could morph into one of them, but then again, both Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton were suspicious now, and she might get stuck inside one of them. Or perhaps they’d preempt her move and prevent her from entering their bodies at all. That would be even worse. She’d be floating about in the air with no body to go into. She struggled to get out of Miss Oakkton’s grip.

  “Get off me!” Molly growled in pain.

  “So it is you. What shall we do with you now, little Moon termite?” Miss Oakkton muttered darkly. “What a strange place to die—in a termite cathedral!”

  “You’re so much larger than her, Miss Oakkton,” declared Miss Hunroe. “Crush her!”

  “Oh! Ya!” laughed Miss Oakkton. “And then zeese uzer termites would eat you. Perhaps they’d even feed you to zair queen!”

  The queen! Molly turned. So many termites were now attending to the queen that Molly could barely see her. Miss Oakkton had given her a brilliant idea. Molly desperately looked for a pattern in the cracked mud floor and thought hard. She sank her mind deep into the idea of slimy sluggishness. And miraculously, seconds later, she had left her termite shell and morphed into the pulsating termite queen.

  At once Molly saw how totally in control the queen was, and how all the termites served her completely. Molly looked at Miss Oakkton, who was still under the impression that the insect she was holding was Molly. Miss Oakkton was about to kill that termite, to squeeze the life out of it, and Molly felt entirely responsible for this. And so Molly the queen whispered to her feeders.

  “The large termite there is an imposter!”

  In unison, the termites turned to look at Miss Oakkton. They stopped what they were doing. And, as though their brains were synchronized, they moved toward her. Before Miss Oakkton knew what was happening, the termites had walled her in.

  The smaller termite that had once been Molly escaped from the termite scrum, scurrying out of the chamber in terror, while Miss Oakkton…she was destroyed.

  Molly the queen termite shuddered, her multi-abdomined body wobbling like Jell-O. It was then that she noticed that the termite that was Miss Hunroe had slipped away. And the stones were gone.

  “You all rightee my queenee?” came a loyal termite’s concerned question.

  “Yessee,” Molly the queen replied. “Thank you. I want messageeee sent out to all the colony. Messageeee is this. The termite that took the colored stones must be caught.” As she spoke, the termites listened.

  “Yeeesssee Your Highnesssss,” they said in unison, and immediately they left the chamber to spread the word.

  With no time to lose, Molly morphed into a big black termite. And, back inside its armored body, she darted down the tunnel after Miss Hunroe.

  She hoped that once the queen’s wishes were known, every one
of her subjects would surround the termite that was Miss Hunroe. Miss Hunroe was likely to be heading for the exit—unless she’d hidden the colored weather stones somewhere in the termite mound, and hidden herself, too. Molly was going to have to take a guess. As she scurried along, a wave of termite whispers flowed beside her.

  “Find the termite with the stones,” the whisper went. “The queen wants that termite caught.”

  And then Molly heard barking outside. It was muffled because of the denseness of the mud walls, but Molly would recognize that bark anywhere. Petula! She was barking incessantly—a bark that meant there was trouble. Breaking into a run, Molly followed the sound of Petula’s bark and pushed through the crowds of soldier termites that were entering the mound. She burst out into the open.

  Above her, a massive Petula barked at Miss Hunroe, who was so big that Molly could hardly see her face. Micky was there, too, as well as Lily and Bas and Canis. Cappuccino the capuchin monkey sat on a low rock surveying the scene. It was pouring rain, and the ground was so muddy and waterlogged that small rivulets flowed next to the termite mound and beside the Logan Stones. To Molly the termite, these streams were like torrential rivers. She looked up at Miss Hunroe and wondered desperately whether it would be possible to morph into her.

  All the while Petula and Canis barked and snapped at Miss Hunroe, who was brandishing a stick and trying to hit anyone who came to close to her. The commotion of barking and shouting, along with the thunder, was deafening.

  Then Molly saw Petula drop something onto the ground. It was the blue stone. Miss Hunroe saw it, too. All at once, Molly understood that it had been her dear friend Petula who had been changing the nearby weather. She’d been causing all this rain.

  Miss Hunroe dived for and snatched the blue stone and then, like some insane person, began to scale the tall termite mound. Slipping as she gripped its wet surface, she made her way up to its top turret.

  In a flash, Molly meegoed into her own body and surveyed the scene.

  Miss Hunroe was sitting on the top of the colossal termite mound, holding the stones aloft.