‘We were just looking for our football,’ stammered Rory, anxious to get out of the place and wondering what on earth had come over Mia.
‘I’m sure we’ll find it,’ smiled Mrs Blackwell. ‘But why don’t you come inside first and have some blackcurrant juice and one of my oatmeal cookies?’
Before Rory had a chance to say anything, Mia was already ahead of him, following the woman inside the house. He had no option but to go after them.
They had been in this house many times before, but without Mr Hackett’s furniture and old ornaments it looked different and felt strange. Rory sat on the edge of a lumpy, red couch in the sitting room. Mia had gone off into the kitchen to help Mrs Blackwell. Rory wondered why there were no photos of Mr Blackwell, or any family members on top of the bureau or sideboard. Old people usually liked to have photos around them.
Mia was chatting away happily when she reappeared carrying a plate of cookies, the old woman following her with a jug and three glasses.
‘I feel I know your family already,’ said Mrs Blackwell, looking quizzically at Rory as she poured out a glass of purplish juice for him. ‘Mia has told me so much about you all.’
Rory glared at his sister, wishing that she would keep that big mouth of hers shut. Mia smirked and wrinkled her nose to show that she didn’t care what he thought, before nibbling her cookie. Rory decided that he wasn’t hungry, and he found the drink too sickly sweet for his liking. He sipped unenthusiastically.
‘Just imagine, a magician living next door!’ the old lady exclaimed. ‘Mia told me your father is a magician, Rory. How wonderful!’
Rory stared at the patterned rug on the floor. How could Mia be so stupid!
‘Actually, Dad’s a bank manager, Mrs Blackwell. He works in town. The magic stuff he does is just a sort of hobby,’ he corrected her.
The old woman smiled knowingly. ‘A hobby,’ she laughed, leaning forward towards him. ‘Is that what he calls it?’
‘Honestly,’ protested Rory, ‘it’s just party tricks and stuff like that. He’s just an amateur.’
‘I think Daddy’s quite good at magic,’ interrupted Mia, ‘and he’s getting better.’
The old woman and the girl smiled at each other as if they shared a secret, leaving Rory feeling left out and jealous. He remembered the football.
‘If you don’t mind, Mrs Blackwell,’ he said, ‘I want to try and find my ball.’ He stood up, putting his glass on the wobbly-looking side-table. ‘Thank you for the drink. Are you coming, Mia?’
His sister seemed to hesitate for a second, but then sensing his mood followed his example and stood up too.
‘Good gracious!’ murmured Mrs Blackwell. ‘It’s been so nice meeting children again, it’s been such a long time … I mean, such nice children…’
‘Thank you, Mrs Blackwell,’ said Mia. ‘I’m sorry we have to go.’
‘You’ll come again, Mia, now that we are friends,’ said the old lady. ‘Promise?’
Mia nodded. ‘I will.’
Mrs Blackwell led them back outside. Three magpies sitting on the branch of a tree watched them as they stepped back out into the open air.
Rory glanced around the garden, wondering how far the ball could have rolled. He nearly jumped with surprise when he spotted it almost immediately, sitting in front of them on the lawn.
‘Oh, there it is, Rory!’ said Mia.
I don’t believe it, thought Rory. That’s weird. There’s no way I could have walked past it earlier without seeing it.
‘You’ll come back soon,’ stated Mrs Blackwell, smiling and handing him the ball. But Rory knew that it was Mia she really wanted to see again, not him. Annoyed, he pushed his sister ahead of him through the gap in the hedge.
‘Why did you have to go tell her things?’ he asked Mia angrily. ‘She’s a daft old woman and now she thinks we’re her friends.’
Mia looked puzzled. ‘I like her.’
‘What about all the things you said – about her being a witch and how she scared you?’ he reminded her.
‘Did I?’
‘Yes, you did!’ he insisted.
‘Well, I was wrong. She’s just a poor old lady with no family of her own. I think she’s lonely. She said I’m a magician’s daughter … that’s something special.’
There was no point in arguing with Mia once her mind was made up. Disgruntled, Rory went inside, leaving his sister standing in the garden, the three magpies who had followed them home perched in the cherry tree above her head.
Bella’s Secrets
Mia stood alone in the hallway of The Elms. The back door had been left unlocked and she’d let herself in. It wasn’t really trespassing when you were half-expected anyway, she reasoned. She liked to call in to visit the old lady after school most days now, to make sure she was all right and to have a little chat. Already they had become firm friends.
‘Mrs Blackwell! Mrs Blackwell!’ she called out.
The Bird Woman didn’t answer. Mia looked in the sitting room, then the dining room. Perhaps Bella was upstairs having a nap. She didn’t dare climb the curving staircase and disturb her.
‘Mrs Blackwell!’ she called again.
Where could her friend be? The old black bicycle was missing from its spot near the back door. Maybe Bella had gone into the village for something. Mia sighed. It seemed unfair that Bella was not there to meet her, just when she’d managed to finish her homework quickly, avoided unpacking the dishwasher and given Rory the slip. It seemed really strange to her now the way her brother had taken such a dislike to Bella. He did everything he could to keep herself and Bella Blackwell apart. Mia may have changed her mind about the old lady, but Rory certainly hadn’t.
Mia sat at the kitchen table hoping that Bella would be back any minute. The kitchen was very different from the Murphys’ – it was very old fashioned, with a big Aga stove. The windows were small and narrow, and there was an old white sink for doing the washing up, and a couple of shelves and presses, crowded with odds and ends. Mia continued to wait.
The house was silent and still. Then she heard it – a rustling, chirping noise. What was it? Bella must be in the glasshouse!
Mia pulled back the heavy, wine-coloured, velvet curtains of the dining room to reveal the glasshouse entrance. Was this where Mrs Blackwell kept her rare birds?
The door was unlocked, but the heavy, rusted hinges squeaked loudly as she pushed it open. Bleached wooden floorboards stretched the length of the curved building. One glass wall was obscured by a tall array of creepers and huge green plants, another by a long blind.
‘Mrs Blackwell,’ Mia whispered softly, and stepped inside. ‘Are you there?’
A rustling movement was the only answer to her question. Mia pulled the door closed behind her, not wanting any of the birds to escape. There was no sign of Bella.
The glasshouse was warm, humid. Her eyes searched for a glimpse of bright feathers among the green plants. Something brushed against her cheek. Startled, Mia realised it was only a great feathery fern. Then, with a quick flutter something darted toward the glass roof, its reflection catching her eye. She spun around, trying to see what it was.
Another rustling noise sounded overhead. The birds must be hiding in the big old vine that Mr Hackett had planted. Mia craned her neck upwards, trying to get a glimpse of them.
A sudden ripple of wings and fluttering filled the air all around her. Mia jumped backwards and turned to run out of the room. But something flew past her, almost becoming entangled in her hair. Something else swept past her shoulder, while yet another object, light and feathery, brushed against her legs. Terrified, Mia stood perfectly still as a mass of black shapes milled around her. They must be bats! She hated bats! She closed her eyes and covered her head with her arms.
The flapping and rustling continued as the small creatures bashed into her. They became more and more frantic. She kept her eyes shut tight, hoping they would stop and leave her alone. Petrified, she stood as still as a gard
en statue, wishing that the crazy movements would stop so that she could escape.
‘Child! Oh, Mia child, don’t be scared! They won’t hurt or harm you, I promise.’
Mia almost fainted with relief when she heard the old woman’s voice. Forgetting that Bella might be angry with her, she flung herself into the old woman’s arms.
‘There, there, child!’ said Bella, wrapping her arms protectively around the girl. ‘Don’t take on so! They’re almost as scared as you are. Hush, now! Look!’
Mia was too scared to open her eyes, but finally, at Bella’s insistence, she took a cautious look.
At first she could see nothing. The deep green of the fluttering vine leaves hid a dark shape that lay camouflaged within them. She could barely make out the outline. It was some kind of a flying lizard. Two bright eyes stared at her. Then the creature moved closer, its large snout and nostrils quivering. Mia could see the high curve of its leathery wings and noticed its fine, curving tail. Gasping with amazement she realised that this was no ordinary lizard. In fact, it looked like a dragon! Smaller than any she’d ever read about or seen pictures of, nonetheless … it was a dragon.
The small, black dragon stared back at her. Suddenly there were dragons all about her, shiny-eyed, inquisitive, watching, chirping in high-pitched tones. Mia blinked, afraid. She was imagining it, she must be. There was no such thing as dragons! They existed only in fairytales.
‘My dragons!’ said Bella proudly, staring at Mia. ‘Now you have discovered my secret.’
‘Are they really dragons?’
‘Yes, of course, child. But don’t be afraid, they’re still dragonlings yet. They won’t harm you.’
Putting her teeth together, and making a gentle, clicking sound, Bella called to a dragon that was hidden in the lush greenery.
A young, dusty, gold-coloured creature wriggled forward, his tail wagging wildly as Bella began to pat his long neck and talk to him.
‘That’s a good boy, Oro, good boy.’
Mia could see that the dragon loved the attention, just like a dog or cat.
‘Touch him!’ ordered Bella softly.
Mia drew back. She didn’t want to touch these weird lizard things that the old woman thought were dragons. This one’s skin looked scaly like a snake’s, but yet dry and leathery. His green eyes narrowed and he stared at her as if he might attack or bite her.
‘Go on!’
She barely touched the creature with her finger, but was surprised by his warmth. Braver now, she traced her finger gently along his side. He turned his neck and head around to sniff her. Satisfied, he let her pet him.
‘There!’ said Bella, her eyes shining.
Still nervous, Mia tried to ignore the rustling and fluttering as the rest of the dragons pushed forward, jostling for attention.
‘They like you,’ laughed the old woman.
All about the glasshouse, hidden in the trailing plants and tall, deep green vines, lizards or dragons or whatever they were, were watching her, their eyes glinting. Mia had never seen or imagined anything like them.
‘You did well, magician’s daughter. Conquering fear of the old or new is no easy thing. The dragonlings will sense that and be your friends. Already you know by instinct how to calm and soothe them.’
Mia felt bewildered. She didn’t know what to make of the strange old lady and her dragons. Could it possibly be real?
‘Come, Mia, you and I must talk,’ said Bella, suddenly dismissing Oro. Mia followed nervously behind her as she closed the glasshouse door and stepped back into the dining room.
They walked down into the kitchen, where the old woman sat down on a rocking chair and pulled out a stool for Mia.
‘Are you all right, child?’
Mia nodded. Her heart was beating like a drum and she wondered if she should run away home – but something made her want to stay and listen to Bella.
‘Are they really dragons? Really?’
Yes, child, yes!’ answered Bella excitedly. ‘Haven’t you seen them with your own eyes, touched one? These dragons are real enough, all right.’
‘I thought dragons were just make-believe, something you read about in fairy stories,’ murmured Mia. ‘I still can’t believe it. Dragons really exist!’
Bella laughed. ‘There have always been dragons, Mia. Humans have always feared them and fought them and tried to capture them. How do you think dragons found their way into so many stories and legends, only that people saw them and believed in them? Dragon lore passed from one generation to another, some written down, some just remembered.’
‘But how did the dragons get here? Here in Glenkilty? Where did you find them?’
‘In the wood.’ Bella pointed towards the window.
‘Glenkilty Wood!’ gasped Mia. ‘Our wood!’
‘Aye. It was terrible. Men came with their great yellow monsters of machines and attacked the wood. They tore down the trees, uprooted them, turning over the sacred soil. They broke the bones of old ones as they used giant, buzzing saw weapons to cut the trees down. I witnessed it with my own eyes. The dragons were no longer safe, the woods could no longer protect them from humans.’
‘They’re building the Glenkilty by-pass road, cutting through the edge of the wood,’ explained Mia.
‘It was Providence that I found these hatchlings, hidden for so long in a circle of stones. I saved them from the jaws of those great iron machines. They need protecting and minding, especially in this world of yours, until they are strong and fit enough to return with me to a world where they will be safe and free. I’ve been minding dragons ever since I was a young girl, Mia. Big ones, little ones, brave ones and, though it pains me to admit it, some pure evil ones. My job has always been to look after the dragons.’
‘I don’t understand,’ mumbled Mia, not managing to make any sense of what Bella was saying.
‘These dragonlings are perhaps the only dragons left in the world. They have survived for many years, centuries even. Do you realise how precious and rare they are, how important? Hunger and disease and the ravages of war and greed destroyed the rest of the dragons. They were hunted down until their species was almost entirely extinct.
‘Long, long ago, the Great Mage ordered that dragonkind would remain hidden for a thousand years, until the coming of the next millennium and the new age of peace and magic. A new dawn. A new beginning. But humankind has forgotten all that was promised.’ The old woman shook her head sorrowfully. ‘I’m not sure if humankind will ever learn to live without the evils of war, but I have been entrusted with the care of these young dragons to ensure their survival.’
Mia tried to understand what the old woman was talking about as she rambled on about magicians, yellow monsters and dragons. She was still scared and longed to be back in her own home sitting in front of the fire with the television on.
Bella’s thin, bony hands reached out to her.
‘Time is running out, child. I’m old, too old. My time has nearly come. You are young, a magician’s daughter, no less. ’Tis destiny that led me here to the edge of this wood to find the dragons and to find you. Nothing happens by accident. A mage can always sense the presence of another close by. That is why I chose you, Mia. You must help. You will be my apprentice. You will help me with the dragons and learn the old ways, while there is still time for me to pass on the wisdom before I die!’
Mia was really frightened now. For the first time she noticed how the wrinkles on Bella’s face resembled a map, and the veins on her brow were shaped like a dragon’s wings.
‘I have to go home!’ Mia blurted out. ‘My Mum will be mad at me if I’m late for dinner, honest. She doesn’t even know I’m here.’
Bella Blackwell gave a slow nod. ‘You will return!’ she said emphatically, and grasped Mia’s arm.
Mia jumped up off the stool and forced the gnarled fingers apart.
‘Let me go!’ she screamed, and she raced out the door, running away from the old woman and her mad talk.
/> ‘Don’t go, child!’ pleaded the dragon woman. ‘Don’t go!’
Mia turned to go down the driveway. She watched in disbelief as, ahead of her, the heavy, iron gates began to shut, blocking her escape. Terrified, she raced around the side of the house to the back garden.
She hurled herself through the gap in the hedge, dry branches scraping her skin, grass and mud sticking to her clothes. She almost cried with relief when Jackie’s wet nose greeted her at the other side. Grabbing the small dog up in her arms, she ran in to the house, locking the door behind her.
Glenkilty Wood
Mia was always fearful now. At night, her dreams were filled with dragons and monsters and a constant whispering voice that pleaded with her to return to return to the house next door. Had Bella put a spell on her? Enchanted her? She tried to convince herself that what she had seen in the glasshouse had been an illusion, a trick, a hologram even. But she only had to look out of the back window of her house and see the familiar curved structure of the glasshouse, to remember vividly the flutter of dragon wings, the glimmer of dragon eyes and the feel of dragon skin.
The following week, Bella cycled down by the lake and along the village road every day, passing by Glenkilty National School. Dressed heavily in black, she rode her old black bicycle in front of the school yard. Mia watched from the classroom window, anxious and afraid, hearing Bella call her name again and again. Neither the teacher nor the other children seemed to notice anything.
When Mia was going to the supermarket, or the post office or just even walking home from school, she knew that Bella would suddenly appear, smiling and friendly. She did her best to stay close to her Mum and her Granny and her friends, but she knew that they could not protect her forever from Bella’s magic.
‘Are you all right, pet?’ asked Mum, sensing that something was going on.
‘Yep!’ said Mia, too frightened to tell. She didn’t want to be an apprentice dragon keeper, or helper or whatever that crazy old witch wanted of her. She just wanted to go back to being a normal eleven-year-old girl who knew nothing about dragons or magic or people’s time running out!
In Deep Dark Wood Page 2