The Witch's Revenge

by D. A. Nelson

  “Where are they at their worst?” the girl asked.

  “In the cellar,” replied the witch, “where the drains go outside. And I’ve also heard them scuttling about in the air vents in … in …” The woman’s face paled.

  “Where?” Morag and Shona cried together.

  “In this room …,” she answered.

  “Hmmm,” said Morag, “interesting. And where is the air vent in this room?”

  Elma did not speak, but pointed to a small grill fastened loosely on the wall, near the floor. Morag walked over and got down on her hands and knees to study it closely. She sniffed at the grill and the space around it. “And have you actually seen these rats?” she asked skeptically.

  Muriel, who did not like the way this was going, frowned. She turned to the girl. “Are you telling me you think rats stole the tooth?” she asked haughtily.

  “No,” replied Morag, picking up something from the grill before scrambling to her feet. “It’s worse than that. I think a Klapp demon got in through the drains and into the air vents. It climbed up here, opened the grill and broke into the case. Here’s its fur snagged on the grill.” She held up a tuft of matted brown hair. “And if you want further proof, have a sniff over here. You can still smell the rotten stench of Klapp demon.”

  “That’s preposterous!” Muriel sneered. “Why didn’t it get caught in the web?”

  “Maybe it was using magic? Wouldn’t be the first time,” replied Morag. “It’s something you’ll have to look into.”

  “Well done.” Shona smiled briefly and examined the fur in Morag’s hands. “I think you’re right about it being a Klapp demon. You’ll make a great Volunteer when you’re older.”

  Morag’s heart swelled with pride. She was happy she had been of some help.

  “Well … I … don’t know about that …,” spluttered Muriel. “Our security spells are the best any magic has ever produced!”

  “They are obviously not as foolproof as you think,” said Shona triumphantly.

  “So now what?” asked Bertie, peering at the clump of fur.

  Shona looked at Morag before answering. “Let’s go see Montgomery. There is only one reason why a Klapp demon would do this, and that’s because someone on Murst sent it,” she said. “Besides, I have other business to discuss with him so we can all get a good night’s sleep.” She winked at the girl.

  The little band of friends said good-bye to Muriel and Elma and left the library. They were about to take the stairs when Aldiss stopped them. “Wait!” he shouted. “Look at this!”

  Morag turned to see him pointing to a fat red button sticking out of the whitewashed wall. In bold black letters was the word “DOWN.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s probably to activate the Moonstones in the ceiling,” replied the dodo dryly.

  “No! No!” said the rat, jumping up and down with excitement. “It’s not for that. It’s a lift button.”

  “Do you mean she made us climb all those stairs for nothing?” rasped the dragon. She bared her teeth and made Bertie flap in fright.

  “Press it, Morag,” Aldiss urged. “You’re bigger than me, you can reach it.”

  “But there aren’t any lift doors on the wall. Actually, there’s nothing here that even looks like a lift,” Morag said.

  “Just do it!” Aldiss urged.

  With a nervous forefinger Morag pressed the big red button. At first nothing happened, but then, from somewhere inside the walls, there came the faint sound of clanking, as if some very old machinery that wasn’t used often had suddenly creaked into life. Grinding, grinding, and then …

  “Oh!” gasped Morag, astonished. “How did that happen?”

  The wall had opened up to reveal a dark rectangular space. A blast of warm, stale air rushed up the shaft and blew over them.

  “Welcome,” cooed a disembodied female voice from within. “This is Rosemary, your elevator operator. Please wipe your feet and step inside.”

  Morag looked at her friends. “There’s nothing in there to step onto,” she pointed out.

  “I said, step inside!” the voice snapped. “What? Do you think I have time to wait about for you all day? Please step inside immediately.”

  “But …,” Morag began.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” Aldiss assured her. “It’s an old-fashioned Air Elevator. You’re held up by an enchanted draft. Look, I’ll go first and you lot can follow.”

  Before anyone could stop him, Aldiss scampered over to the doorway and with a “Geronimo!” dove into the dark chasm. When he fell into nothing he realized the “enchanted draft” was missing. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” he screamed as he plummeted into the murky shadows.

  “Bother!” said the lift, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t ready. Hold on, sir, hold on!”

  There was a creaking and groaning as the air came on and the screaming stopped. Then there was silence. Morag looked over the edge. She could see nothing, only the sort of darkness that made you think you had lost your sight.

  “Aldiss?” she shouted, her voice echoing down the chamber. “Aldiss? Are you all right? Aldiss? Answer me! Have you hurt yourself?”

  “No, no bones broken,” Aldiss called back. “No thanks to Rosemary!”

  “I’m sorry, sir. If you had only given me a bit of warning …,” retorted the lift.

  “Warning? You’re supposed to be ready all the time.”

  Morag rolled her eyes and turned to speak to Shona and Bertie, but found them gone. They were ten stairs down when she called after them.

  “Where are you going? Aren’t you taking the lift?”

  “After that? I’d rather try and fly!” the dodo answered, plodding down the stairs two at a time.

  “We’ll see you at the bottom,” said the dragon, bounding after him, her great green tail snaking behind.

  “Well,” Morag said to herself. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” She strode over and shouted, “Get ready, Rosemary!” With tightly shut eyes, she launched herself into the lift shaft, and into a fierce gust of balmy air.

  “Going down!” called Rosemary cheerfully as Morag watched the doorway speed away from her. Faster and faster she fell, until she thought the skin was going to be blown from her face and her hair ripped out at the roots. The tails of her open duffle coat flew behind her like a woolly red parachute. She jolted to a sudden halt in midair. In the darkness, she could see nothing, hear nothing and smell nothing except for the faint odor of fresh grease.

  There was a blink of light. A Moonstone switched on, filling the narrow lift shaft with a soft blue haze. Morag felt herself being gently set down on the floor as a door opened to reveal Aldiss waiting for her. His little furry face broke into a wide grin when he saw her, exposing a set of huge yellow teeth.

  “Wow!” she laughed as she stepped out. “That was amazing!”

  “Let’s do it again!” he cried excitedly.

  “There will be plenty of time for that later,” said another voice firmly.

  They turned to see Bertie on the stairs, followed by Shona.

  “Come on, we’ve got work to do,” added the dragon. “Montgomery needs to be told about the missing tooth.

  And fast!”

  4

  Montgomery lived in a large house surrounded by high hedges and acres of grassland on the edge of Marnoch Mor. Its solitary position gave him the privacy he needed for his “research.” What that involved was a mystery to everyone but Montgomery, and that was how he liked it. Because the house was set back from the road, its red-tiled roof was all that was visible from the front gate, where Morag, Bertie, Aldiss and Shona now found themselves. The gate was as tall as a double-decker bus and cast from silver from the Denebola star—according to Bertie. It had been shaped by a master silversmith into intricate swirling patterns that, the dodo informed them, depicted the four elements: water, fire, earth and wind.

  “All very nice,” said the dragon, “but where’s the doorbell?”

/>   “Is this it?” asked Morag, pointing to a large chain. Without waiting for an answer she pulled it, and somewhere far away a horn sounded.

  “Who is it?” a voice from the gate asked.

  They looked at each other.

  “I said, ‘Who is it?’ ” the gate asked again, this time impatiently.

  “Er … it’s Morag, with Shona, Bertie and Aldiss,” replied Morag uncertainly.

  “State your business.”

  “We’re here to see Montgomery,” the girl said.

  There was a pause. “Stand forward one at a time so that I may scan you.”

  “Scan us?” repeated Morag.

  It was a thought that rattled around everyone’s head at the same time, and no one was keen to go first. They were even less enthusiastic when a robin decided to take matters into its own wings. It flew straight at the panel depicting fire. There was a Zimm! as it lit up and Zap! The little bird was fried midflight. The smell of burnt feathers filled the air.

  “Interloper!” spat the gate. “Now, step forward. I need to verify who you are.”

  Morag looked in horror at Shona, who had turned a sickly shade of purple (dragons turn purple when they’re feeling nauseated). Aldiss and Bertie were faring no better: the rat was standing close by, breathing deeply, and the dodo was staring, his beak open in horror.

  “You first, Bertie,” said Aldiss, pushing him forward.

  “But it doesn’t like birds,” replied the dodo, resisting. “Why don’t you go first? You’re the littlest.”

  “That is exactly why I should go second. What if it can’t scan me? What if it frazzles me, too, like that poor little bird?” said the rat, his black eyes filling with tears.

  “And what about this poor little bird? Don’t you care about me? There aren’t many dodos left, you know …,” snorted Bertie, pointing at himself.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, will you two be quiet?” interrupted Morag. “I’ll go first, okay? And I’ll be fine.” I hope, she thought as she moved toward the gate.

  “No, Morag, you can’t!” said Shona, leaping in her way.

  “I can and I will. We need to see Montgomery and we need to see him now,” she said firmly. “Besides,” she added, “it’s freezing and it looks like it’s about to snow. If you want to stay here and turn into an icicle, that’s fine, but I’m going in.”

  As she said this, a flurry of snowflakes fell and swirled around them. The dragon, seeing Morag was right, nodded.

  “I’m ready,” Morag said, her stomach churning with fear.

  “Come closer,” the gate replied. “So I can see how you measure up.”

  Morag moved closer and was engulfed in a funnel of light filled with thousands of sparkling shapes. As she looked closely, she saw that these were tiny star-shaped elves. They were taking out little measuring tapes and holding them against her.

  “Morag MacTavish from Irvine, blue eyes, brown hair and a sharp mind,” said the gate. “You’re rubbish at telling jokes and your favorite food is macaroni cheese. You are the vanquisher of the warlock Devlish and savior of the Eye of Lornish. Your biggest fears are meeting Mephista again and being found by your guardians Jermy and Moira Stoker. You may pass through.”

  Astonished, Morag stepped out of the light and through the open gates. She waved to her friends from the other side. Aldiss went next.

  “Cheese lover,” decided the gate. “Collector of antique miniature thimbles. Karaoke singer. Vintage train enthusiast.”

  Then Bertie.

  “Pompous! Lover of television soap operas and gossip magazines. Only bird to have finished the Toughie Crossword in the Marnoch Mor Herald.”

  And finally Shona.

  “Bad tempered but quite lovable. Enthusiastic pickle eater. Secret writer of romantic novels.”

  “Antique thimbles?” said Bertie.

  “Soap operas?” replied Aldiss.

  “Romantic novels?!” both laughed as a bashful Shona stepped out of the light. She coughed. “Well, I wouldn’t call them romantic exactly. Yes, they explore dragon feelings and dragons in love, but they’re really all about …” She broke off when she noticed no one was listening. Morag, Bertie and Aldiss were already running ahead up the driveway.

  It had been extremely cold for days and the ground was still frozen underfoot, causing them to slip and slide. Red-faced, they drew breath before Morag climbed the big stone steps to the red front door and rang the bell. Ding-a-ling-a-ling, it chimed. She turned to her friends and smiled. Any minute now someone would appear.

  Nothing.

  Ding-a-ling-a-ling. Morag rang the bell again. Several minutes passed and still there was no response.

  “Must be the housekeeper’s day off,” said Shona.

  “Let’s go in anyway,” Morag suggested. “We can’t wait about outside all day. Montgomery’s probably in his study and can’t hear us.”

  “We can’t do that!” Bertie said. “It’s rude to go into someone’s house without an invitation.”

  “This is no time to stand on ceremony,” said Shona, pushing past him. The door swung open to reveal a darkened hallway.

  “Hello?” called Morag as she and the dragon stepped inside. “Anyone home? Montgomery? It’s me, Morag! And Shona and Bertie and Aldiss. Is it all right if we come in?”

  She looked at the others, then peered inside again. The house was deathly quiet. Such a large house would normally have at least a housekeeper and maybe even a gardener, but there was no one in sight. Not even the owner, who was always home at this time of day.

  “Montgomery? It’s quite important,” the girl called.

  “He must be in his study,” said the dodo. “I’ll show you the way. I’ve been there before. Many, many times.”

  Morag rolled her eyes. The hallway was long, oak paneled and decorated with spears and bows and other armory like the sort you would see in an old castle. A couple of deer antlers hung from the wall. Above the staircase hung a tapestry depicting the founding of Marnoch Mor. Morag recognized Colm Breck in it, but was unsure of the others. One was a pale, dangerous-looking red-haired man. He seemed familiar. She assumed the woman wearing the crown must have been the town’s first monarch, Queen Adela Augusta. In the background, the face of another man stared out. He looked like … Montgomery! Morag frowned. Why would he have been put in the tapestry? she wondered. He couldn’t have been around hundreds of years ago. She didn’t have time to muse over it, for her attention was caught by her friends.

  “Where is the study, Bertie?” asked Aldiss impatiently.

  “Er … down this corridor, I think,” replied the bird, pointing. With his beak he opened a door that revealed a passage leading to the back of the house. “Follow me!” he called. “This way!”

  There was only one door at the other end and it opened into a large, well-lit room with huge arched windows and bookcases covering three walls. Morag noticed what smelled like rotten eggs, but said nothing because she started in surprise. Montgomery was leaning against his oak desk in the middle of the room. He did not seem to hear or see them. He was staring at the ceiling.

  “Montgomery?” Morag ventured.

  “Excuse me, sir?” tried Bertie.

  Montgomery did not respond; he did not even move.

  “What’s he looking at?” whispered Aldiss.

  “There’s nothing there,” replied Shona, looking up. “Oh … wait a minute … what’s that?”

  A dark spot was spreading on the ceiling directly above the wizard. As they watched, it grew into a cone of swirling air, a tornado that spun furiously, scattering all the papers and books from the desk. It seemed to scream at Montgomery but he was rooted to the spot.

  “Look out!” cried Morag, her hair whipping around her face. Too late. The tornado exploded and with an audible gulp swallowed the wizard. The last they saw of him were the soles of his shoes disappearing into the vortex. Morag jumped to try to catch him, but just as she did the whirlwind gave out a final groan and disappe
ared altogether.

  “MONTGOMERY!” she screamed.

  But there was only silence.

  “What was that?” Morag wept. “Where did he go?”

  “Could it have been one of his experiments?” asked Aldiss.

  “Absolutely not,” said Bertie. “He would never try anything that dangerous. In all my years as a trainee wizard I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Now what?” said Morag.

  There didn’t seem anything to say or do but stand and look at each other in total despair. Now what? That phrase rattled around Morag’s head like a captured wasp in a jar. She looked at each of her friends and saw reflected in their faces the same terrible turmoil that she felt.

  “Oooh!” A soft groaning rose from the floor behind the desk. “Ooooh!”

  Morag looked at Shona, whose ears were twitching to catch the sound again. “Did you hear that?” said Morag, peering round to the other side of the desk. “It sounded like someone was moaning, but there’s no one here.”

  “Ooooooooh!”

  She got down on her hands and knees and placed her head on the floor to look under the desk. At first, she could see nothing in the tight dark space between the bottom drawer and the rug. Then something glinted at her. She jammed her hand under and reached for it.

  “Nnnggeuh! Can’t … quite … reach it!”

  The back of her hand screamed with pain as she shoved it further under, fingers outstretched. The tips just touched a smooth, shiny thing and with a nail, she drew it toward her. She pulled out a long chain with a large gold medallion at the end of it.

  “Henry!” she cried happily.

  “What were you doing down there?” asked Aldiss.

  “Aren’t you normally around Montgomery’s neck?” asked Bertie.

  “Do you know what’s happened to him?” asked Shona.

  The face on the medallion flinched at all their questions and his little eyes remained closed. “Will you all stop shouting at me for a moment and give me time to recover?” Henry snapped. “I have a terrible headache. For goodness’ sake, be quiet, will you?” Everyone held their breath. At last Henry opened his eyes and looked around. “Did you see what happened?” he said, addressing Morag. She took a breath before explaining how they had found Montgomery motionless before he was swept into the whirlwind.