The old woman glanced down at the floor furtively.
‘Promise!’ insisted Mia, forcing the woman to look her in the eye.
‘Aye, I promise,’ said Bella slowly, her blue eyes seeming sincere and truthful.
Mia took a long, deep breath. She wasn’t sure exactly what lay ahead, but she couldn’t deny the stirring feeling of excitement that rippled through her at the thought of being an apprentice magician and dragon keeper, even if it were only for a short time.
‘Come, Mia, there is much for us to do before the moon has completed its full circle and our journey begins.’
Stolen Child
Mia gazed up at the moon, which hung like a giant yellow cheese in the dark sky. She was confused by all that Bella had told her. She didn’t want to leave her family, but what about Trig? There didn’t seem to be any way out at all and she felt scared and weary just thinking about it. A part of her wished that she could climb into bed, fall asleep and wake the next morning to find that Bella and the dragons were gone.
She felt tense and nervous and didn’t know what to do. She paced up and down her bedroom, trying to feel brave and excited and spirited, instead of sick and scared and weepy. She wanted to run away and hide. She wished Rory was there, but he was at the cinema with some school friends and wouldn’t be home for ages.
Granny and her two best friends, Daisy and Ivy, were downstairs, playing cards and chatting. She’d sat with them for a while, sharing some of Granny’s sponge cake.
‘You look done in, Mia, pet!’ Granny had remarked, and suggested that she go to bed early.
‘The teachers make them work far too hard in school nowadays,’ said Daisy Donovan. ‘The child looks like a little white ghost after all that homework!’
Mia could hear their comforting voices below in the sitting room as they chatted the evening away.
She looked around her bedroom, loving every bit of it, her soft, squashy bed, her pine chest of drawers, so overloaded with clothes she could barely open or close them, the narrow corner wardrobe, her desk and chair and her shelf of books and knick-knacks. All ordinary and normal and wonderful. How could she leave them? She lay on the bed, waiting.
Rory came in. She heard his footsteps on the stairs. He pushed open her door to tell her about the film and say goodnight. She was tempted for a moment to tell him everything, but instead she rolled over on her side and pretended to be asleep. She waited and waited till she was sure her brother was sound asleep in his own room.
Bella had told her to come before midnight. Slipping on a pair of trainers and a tracksuit, she worked up the courage to creep across the landing, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jackie looked up expectantly from her bed in the corner. Mia went quickly to the biscuit tin and bribed the dog with a chewy treat. Turning the key in the back door, Mia let herself out quietly into the moonlit night. She gasped. Bella was already standing there at the door amidst her mother’s pots of daffodils and tulips.
‘I knew you’d come, child!’ she said, hugging her, and keeping her scrawny arms around her as they made their way back through the gap in the hedge.
The old house lay still and dark, most of the furniture and bric-a-brac already removed.
The dragons were quivering nervously with anticipation, and Mia was soon caught up in the excitement of what lay ahead and the great journey they would make together.
‘Here, child!’ said Bella. ‘This is for you!’
Mia found herself being wrapped into a huge, feathered coat, her shoulders and arms being eased through enormous armholes.
‘It’s a flying coat, Mia! Rare and precious.’
The feathers felt soft and warm around her, feathers of every shape and size. She tried to guess the type of birds they had come from as she touched the shining blue-black feathers that covered her forearms, the grey seagull feathers that ran across her shoulders, and the soft, downy layers of pale white and silver that rippled along her midriff. Owl, thrush, sparrow, magpie, rook, blue-tit – she recognised many of them. Others were rich with strange colours and the exotic hues of birds that had never crossed the shores of her native land. It was magnificent.
‘It’s beautiful, Bella,’ she said, caressing it. It fitted her perfectly, covering her whole body.
‘Not many people have experienced flying, Mia. This makes you truly special,’ announced the old woman. She then slipped on a feathered coat of her own. The colours were darker, the plumage stronger, making her thin face and beady eyes look even more birdlike.
The dragons shoved and pushed each other anxiously, Bella moved amongst them, issuing commands in a low voice. Trig shuffled over beside Mia. The silence was suddenly disturbed by the urgent ringing of the front door bell. Bella looked startled, and in a flurry of temper went out into the hall.
It was after midnight when Rose Murphy discovered that Mia was neither in bed nor anywhere in the house. In a panic, the old woman woke her grandson and they rushed outside. Luckily, her two friends had not yet left and were sitting chatting in Daisy’s ancient Mini that was parked in the driveway. Rose was glad that she had already confided in them her misgivings about Bella Blackwell.
Rory raced out into the back garden, calling Mia’s name, while the three old friends marched purposefully up the driveway to Bella’s house.
‘I’m sure and certain Mia is here!’ proclaimed Rose, ringing the doorbell.
‘Open the door, Bella!’ she demanded. ‘I know Mia is there with you! Give me back my grandchild this instant!’
‘The poor child must be bewitched,’ insisted Ivy Harrington, as the three elderly women stood on the front steps of The Elms, hammering at the wooden door.
‘We must stop this Bella Blackwell woman,’ added Daisy Donovan, her fat cheeks flushed with temper. ‘Who does she think she is, stealing away your granddaughter, Rose?’
Both Daisy and Ivy had become very agitated, knocking again and again and peering in through the broad, front bay window of the old house.
‘Let her find somebody else!’ said Rose angrily. ‘Mia is my grandchild!’
Much to their surprise, the heavy front door began to swing open, but there was no one holding it. They could see into the empty hall. They stepped cautiously inside, but there was no sign of Mia.
Bella suddenly appeared. She wore a strange coat which was layered with hundreds of fine, multicoloured feathers.
‘A flying coat!’ gasped Ivy.
Rose stood firm, facing the enemy. ‘Give me back the child, Bella Blackwell, and that will be the end of it!’ she demanded, her eyes flashing. ‘She is entrusted to my care by her parents and I’ll not let you harm her.’
Bella Blackwell moved menacingly towards them on her scrawny, birdlike legs. ‘Then you should have kept a better eye on her, shouldn’t you, Grandmother?’
Rose stared into Bella’s eyes, reading the hatred there.
‘Always the three of you together – I’m sorry that I cannot entertain you,’ she cackled wickedly and flew up in the air, up towards the ceiling just above their heads.
Rose grabbed a firm hold of the coat, sending two or three feathers floating to the ground. Bella laughed.
‘Rose, Daisy dear, and Ivy, I do declare that I’m sorry we cannot sit down and be civil and have a nice cup of tea and a chat, but you know, I really must … fly!’
‘MIA!’ screamed Rose Murphy at the top of her voice, the sound filling every corner of the old house.
But before Rose had a chance to repeat her granddaughter’s name, Bella’s spell took hold of her and she found herself lying … stiff and thorny, covered in green leaves and fragrant pink blooms. Daisy had become a broad bush in full flower, and Ivy was transformed into a creeper, her tendrils curling along the ground, beside her friends.
‘MIA-A-A-A!’ It was her grandmother’s voice calling her, searching for her, trying to rescue her.
The seriousness of her predicament suddenly struck Mia and she tried to rush out into the hall, and call
her granny’s name. But no sound would come from her lips, no matter how hard she tried to shout and scream, and her legs would not move. She stood mute and still and miserable as Bella dealt with the three old women in her own way.
The sorceress returned, her coat flapping, her eyes like black coals.
‘We must go immediately!’ she said sharply, ignoring the tears that welled up in Mia’s eyes. Petrified, the young girl followed her out through the open doors of the glasshouse and into the moonlight. Trig clung nervously to the inside of the huge pocket of Mia’s coat where Bella had placed him. He looked squashed and uncomfortable, but did not protest.
Arznel and Oro had already taken to the sky and were circling impatiently over the house, black shadows crossing the moon. One by one, the others followed nervously.
‘We are ready, child. Time to be gone! Fly!’
Mia felt the old woman’s long fingers clutch her wrist and pull her up into the air, her feet lifting off the ground. Terrified, she looked down as her familiar world fell away below them – the grass and flower beds and bushes and roofs of the houses spinning dizzily away from her, as her arms and body moved in the unfamiliar rhythm of flight.
The Flying Coat
They flew all through the night, guided by the stars. The flying coat moulded itself to Mia’s body; her arms flapped up and down like wings and she was powerless to stop them, even though her muscles ached with exhaustion. She saw very little during the journey, conscious only of Bella’s sharp words, the constant sound of beating wings and the sensation of cold air against her face and limbs as they journeyed ever onwards.
The dragons were lost in concentration too, trying to keep up a steady pace, not too fast or too slow, as they flew through the moonlight. As they tired, each took a turn to rest on the old woman’s shoulder and let her fly for them. Mia was glad that Trig was squeezed tightly into the feathered pocket of her coat as she sensed that the young dragon was as scared as she was. Two of the female dragons, Flett and Frezz, flapped nervously alongside Bella, needing her constant guidance, and plummeting alarmingly every now and then.
Mia had lost all sense of time or place. Eventually, they began to slow down and circle, like wild swans or geese descending to earth. They flew lower and lower, heading towards a looming black shadow hidden in the depths of a large, dark wood, the twisted, crooked trees like deformed sentries guarding … what? Mia wasn’t sure. Was it a castle? She couldn’t tell because the moon was hidden behind a cloud.
With an awful bump and thud she hit the ground, her wings becoming arms again, though not quick enough to prevent her from grazing her leg on the cold stone of a cobbled courtyard. Bella landed softly beside her, then guided the dragons down one at a time.
Mia clutched her bloodied knee and tried to get a look around at her surroundings, but it was too dark to see anything.
‘Get up, child!’ ordered Bella, pulling her to her feet. ‘It’s far too cold to be outside. We’ve had a long journey and must rest.’
Bella led the way towards an arched entrance, her feet moving quickly and lightly, sure of the way even in the dark. Tired and dazed, the dragons followed her across the courtyard. She herded them all into in a huge stone pen. Turning back, Bella crossed the courtyard again and opened a door which led to a drab entrance hall. She climbed a curving stairway, with Mia stumbling along behind her. As they walked through corridor after corridor, dusty candles burst into flame as Bella touched them.
‘Here you are, Mia! This is where you shall sleep.’ Bella stopped suddenly and opened the door to a small, neat room, suddenly illuminated by flickering candles. A narrow bed, covered by layers of thick, woven blankets and soft, inviting feather pillows, stood against one wall. There was a high, arched window directly across from it and in one corner a small log fire began to glow.
‘You must be tired, child.’
Tired was the very least of it. Mia had never felt like this before in all her eleven years. Her arms and legs and back seemed like wobbly jelly and she longed for sleep.
‘Good night, Mia!’ said Bella softly, closing the door of the room behind her as she left.
Alarmed at being left alone, Mia ran after her, only to hear the key turn in the lock. She tried to open the window but it was shut firmly and criss-crossed with heavy iron bars. She was a prisoner.
Sighing, she went over and sat on the bed. It was soft and springy. Taking off the feathered coat, she lay down and pulled the blankets up around her, taking in her new surroundings. This place was awful. It smelled damp and musty, as if nobody had slept there for a long, long time. Why, oh why had she ever befriended that strange old woman and believed in her? Tears welled in Mia’s eyes as she remembered her blue-and-white gingham bedroom at home, filled with her toys and books and clothes, her family asleep in their rooms beside her.
Through her tears, she was suddenly aware of movement from the discarded flying coat thrown across a chair in the corner. Trig peeped out, his bright green eyes blinking.
‘Trig!’ she whispered.
The small blue dragon twisted and turned, trying to free himself from the entangled feathers. Then, for a few seconds, he remained totally still, his nostrils and long snout quivering as he sniffed the chilly air. After some consideration, he trotted towards Mia, his claws tapping on the bare floor. She patted the bed. ‘Up, Trig! Up!’
The dragon jumped up on to the blanket beside her. She could see he was trembling, he was as scared as she was.
‘It’s all right, Trig. Don’t be afraid!’ she tried to reassure him. ‘You can sleep on the bed tonight.’ Her hand reached out to touch his leathery skin. ‘You’re cold, poor thing!’ she said, pulling the blanket over him. ‘This will warm you up.’ The small dragon stared at her as she patted him, his skin growing warmer under her touch as he stretched out beside her.
‘It’s all right, Trig!’ she said yawning. ‘We’re together, you and I, and I won’t let anyone harm you.’
When Mia woke the following morning, sunlight was stealing through the window. At first she didn’t dare open her eyes, hoping that the journey and the castle were just a bad dream. She thought hard about her own home trying to make it real. Finally, she opened her eyes and harsh daylight revealed her worst fears – Bella was standing at the foot of her bed, staring intently at her.
‘I hope you are refreshed, Mia. You have been asleep for such a long time. I’ve brought you some milk and some fresh bread, just out of the oven. Time to be up! The sun is high in the sky and there is much work to be done.’
Mia sat up. With a heavy heart she realised that nothing had changed, she was in the same room and the same hopeless situation as the night before.
‘Eat your breakfast and then dress yourself,’ ordered Bella, ‘I’ve left some warm clothes there on the chair for you. Come downstairs when you are ready and bring that dragon with you. You’re spoiling him!’
Mia ate quickly. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was. She gave a piece of the crust to Trig who snapped at it greedily, his sharp, white teeth sending crumbs all over the place.
The young dragon then closed his eyes and snuggled up beside her, ready to doze off again. Mia stretched and moved him out of her way. She’d better get up quickly if she didn’t want to annoy Bella. A jug of water and a heavy washbowl stood on a small stand in the corner of the room. Half-filling it, she splashed water on her face and washed herself lightly. Trig watched her as she began to dress in the strange clothes left out for her. Her tracksuit had been taken away and the flying coat was gone. In their place was a heavy, dark green skirt that fell to her ankles, the material rough but warm, a cream linen shirt topped by a heavy, knitted over-vest of the same colour that laced up the front, and a pair of oatmeal-coloured stockings. But her own trainers were still there and she put them on, at least something was familiar. A bone-handled bristle brush and comb lay on the dark wood dressing-table and she pulled the brush through her long hair, which was full of tangles from her flight
through the wind. Finally dressed, she opened the door and Trig jumped off the bed to follow her.
‘Come on, Trig, we’d better go downstairs. We don’t want to make Bella angry with us!’
The Shadow Hound
By now, Rory was frantic with worry. He shouted Mia’s name as he searched the garden and the road outside their house. He couldn’t understand why she would have left the house at this hour of the night. Just as he was despairing of ever finding his sister, instinct and a strange sense of foreboding led Rory next door to The Elms. There was no sign of Granny or her friends anywhere.
‘Mrs Blackwell! Mrs Blackwell!’ he called out, ringing at her doorbell. There was no reply. Maybe she was already asleep in bed?
He walked around the edge of the house, peering in through the windows like a burglar. All the doors were locked. The house was totally dark, and seemed deserted. Rory began to panic, but he tried to stay calm, he needed to think. Where could Mia be? And where was Granny?
The glasshouse was in darkness too, the moonshine glittering on its panes. He noticed that the door was slightly ajar, so he pulled it open and stepped inside. Tall plants surrounded him, towering over his head. The air was full of a strange scent – lily, tomato plants, and something else, something he couldn’t identity. He walked across the boards in the darkness, trying to feel his way, bumping into things, bruising his shins and hips, as he searched for the light switch. Eventually, he found it. He blinked as the bare bulb lit up the blackness.
There was no trace of anything unusual, just the normal contents of any old glasshouse. He was about to leave when he noticed a curved piece of hard shell lying at the edge of a large ceramic urn. Curious, he lifted it up. It shimmered black and green and turquoise. As he looked at it, turning it over in his hands, he suddenly realised what it was – a claw, some kind of animal claw. He stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans, then tried the door into the drawing room. It was open.
In Deep Dark Wood Page 5