The Witch's Revenge

by D. A. Nelson

  “There was nothing we could do,” she added.

  “A whirlwind?” said the medallion, face set in concentration. “The last I remember was that I was round Montgomery’s neck. We were looking through an old spell book together. Monty wanted my opinion on something he had found there. Then we heard something odd—”

  “What did you hear?” asked the dragon.

  “Well, if you’ll let me talk, I’ll tell you,” replied Henry irritably. “It was a strange barking laugh. It came from the ceiling. And when we looked up there was a blinding flash and Montgomery stopped moving. It felt like they used some sort of immobilizing spell. That would certainly explain the flash.…”

  “They?” Bertie asked. “There was more than one?”

  “I never actually saw anyone, but I’m assuming it wasn’t just a single person. Things happened so quickly.” He paused to reflect.

  “So if they froze Montgomery, how did you get away?” the rat asked. “Why weren’t you affected by the spell?”

  “It takes a lot to catch me out,” said the medallion haughtily. “As soon as I realized what was happening, I unfastened myself and dropped. Just as well, because it just missed me.”

  “It?” Bertie asked.

  “Whatever it was that took him! Pay attention, bird, will you? You’re obviously losing the thread of what I’m trying to tell you!” growled Henry. “I didn’t see what it was, I was too busy escaping. I must have been knocked out when I rolled under the desk because I don’t remember anything else until just now.”

  “So you left Montgomery to face it on his own?” said Morag quietly. There was a silence as everyone took this in. The medallion suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

  “Well, I w-wouldn’t put it exactly l-like that …,” he stuttered. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I thought I’d be more help to him here than wherever they were taking him.”

  Morag sighed deeply. “You mean you were too busy saving yourself to help him,” she said coldly. She pursed her lips, trying hard to keep the anger out of her voice. “You might have been able to help him escape or … or … or at least keep him company so that he wouldn’t feel frightened and alone,” she added, remembering when she had been taken to Murst as a slave two months before. Henry had been with her then and she had been very grateful for his friendship.

  “I didn’t think,” the medallion admitted, “I just reacted.”

  Morag snorted in disgust as the others looked away.

  “Let’s not get upset,” said Shona, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Standing around here arguing is not going to bring Montgomery back. We must search for clues. Let’s do everything we can to find out who did this and why.”

  “What do you suggest?” asked Bertie, flapping his wings in agitation.

  “We need a rescue plan,” said Morag quickly.

  Sitting on the leather chairs, the friends were able to establish three definite facts: Morag had been having recurring dreams about a ghost from Murst; Mina’s tooth had been stolen and they believed a Klapp demon—a creature found only on Murst—was involved; and someone had kidnapped Montgomery from his own home.

  It was obvious where they should start looking, for two of the three had links to the DarkIsle, Murst.

  “What if all three are somehow connected?” Morag suggested.

  “That would make sense,” said Bertie, and he told them about all the objects that had vanished from the human museums recently. “On their own they may not seem significant, but if brought together they could be used for magical purposes. What I can’t understand is why they also took Montgomery. What use is he to them?”

  “Maybe they need someone to cast a special spell?” suggested the rat.

  “Don’t be so stupid, rodent!” snapped Henry. “They must have used extremely powerful magic to get through the protection of the Eye in the first place. No mere novice witch or wizard could ever hope to achieve that. No, whoever has taken him must be very accomplished in magic.”

  “Maybe they are going to hold him for ransom?” said Shona.

  “But why?” Morag replied. “What’s unique about Montgomery, apart from his being in charge of the WWWC?”

  They looked at each other, but no one could come up with anything.

  “He was here at the beginning,” Henry said quietly. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

  “At the beginning of what?” asked Morag.

  “He is the last of the ancient Founders of Marnoch Mor,” the medallion told the astonished friends.

  “B-but that was three hundred and fifty years ago!” Bertie spluttered. “Montgomery can’t be more than about thirty-five. He’s too young to have been one of the Founders.”

  “He’s three hundred and sixty-five years old,” said the medallion. “He doesn’t like people to know in case they treat him differently.”

  “But how is that possible? No one else from that time has survived,” said a puzzled Morag.

  “He has a unique connection to the Eye of Lornish,” explained Henry. “It keeps him alive. He keeps it alive. One cannot do without the other for long.”

  “Why didn’t we know about this before?” Shona demanded.

  The medallion’s lips pursed and he frowned.

  “It’s hardly the type of thing one broadcasts to the whole world, is it?” he said crossly. “If the information got into the wrong hands, someone might try to kill him or take the Eye. Marnoch Mor would always be vulnerable to attack, its streets would crumble and its people would die.”

  “But someone did take the Eye,” Morag blurted out. “We got it back, remember?”

  “Yes, and why do you think Montgomery was so keen to get it back that time? It was because the whole future of this kingdom—and his life—depended on it.”

  “Oh my goodness!” yelped Aldiss. “What you’re saying is now that Montgomery is gone, it’s not just his life that’s in danger, but …”

  “Marnoch Mor as well!” Morag finished. “If we don’t find him soon, the whole of Marnoch Mor will be destroyed.”

  5

  There was nothing else for it: they would have to return to Murst, a prospect none of them were relishing.

  Bertie, knowing that they didn’t have any solid evidence that the folk of the DarkIsle were involved, argued against it, but he was swiftly talked down by Morag and Shona. They were convinced that the answers about the wizard’s disappearance, the theft of the tooth and Morag’s nightmares would all be found on the island.

  “We don’t have any other leads, Bertie,” said Morag.

  The dodo eventually accepted this and agreed to go, but how were they going to get there? It wasn’t like Murst was just next door. The island was hundreds of miles off the mainland and invisible to all but those who had been there.

  “Let’s get to the sea first,” suggested Morag.

  “There are buses parked at the gates,” Aldiss put in. “It’ll be quicker over land to Oban, and from there we can get Kyle the Fisherman to ferry us out to Murst again.”

  “We can’t hang around,” said Morag, placing Henry and his chain around her neck. “Come on, let’s go!”

  She rushed toward the door, expecting everyone to follow, but was stopped in her tracks by Henry. “Just a minute!” he shouted. “There’s a quicker way of getting to the gates than going through the town.”

  Morag held Henry up to look at him. “There is?”

  “Only Montgomery and I know about it,” he said imperiously. “So this is top-secret. You must never tell anyone else. Do you all understand?” He looked around to see the nodding heads of the dragon, the rat and the dodo. “Morag, do you promise never to tell?”

  “Of course I do. Just get us there so we can leave as soon as possible.”

  “Now, I want you to take me back to the desk,” the medallion instructed. “Do you see that little statuette of the goddess Athena? Yes, that one. Pull it toward you.”

  Morag, who hadn’t noticed the litt
le marble figurine before, placed her fingers on its head and flipped it toward her. There was a swoosh, and they spun round. A large trapdoor had opened in the floor below the windows, revealing the unnerving darkness of an underground passageway.

  “This will take us down to the river!” said Henry gleefully. “No time to waste gawping.”

  Without another word, Morag rushed over to see a stone stairwell leading into the gloom. Urged on by the medallion, the girl began to descend.

  “Did he say river?” said Aldiss, shivering as he followed Bertie.

  “I think so,” the bird replied, carefully negotiating his claws on the cold hard steps.

  “Does that mean there’s water involved?” the rat could be heard saying as he disappeared into the inky blackness. His squeaky words echoed back up to the study. There was an audible sigh from the bird, and their words became more distant and muffled.

  “Wait for me!” called Shona, bounding over to the hole in the floor. She peered down nervously. The stairs seemed steep for a dragon of her size and there was no light. She crawled down the steps, her long green tail winding down after her. With a small shoom, the trapdoor closed behind her, plunging them all into total darkness.

  The friends stumbled and stalled on the way down, unable to see where they were going. There were many cries of “Ouch!” and “Get off my tail, will you?” before they reached the bottom. With her hand on the cold stone wall, Morag encouraged the others along a passageway.

  At last, they saw a ray of light ahead. It grew as they walked toward it until they could see quite clearly. It was a doorway into another chamber, a doorway that was glowing with a bright green light. Morag approached it and found that magical-looking symbols had been expertly etched into it.

  “These are amazing. What do they mean?” she asked Henry, tracing the markings with her fingers.

  “How should I know?” The medallion snorted. “I can’t know everything! Open the door, will you, I’m not enjoying this darkness.”

  Deflated, Morag looked at her friends. Go on, their faces urged, so she placed her hand on the metal handle. It felt ice-cold and hard. “Here goes.” She turned it and the door swung away from her. Without looking back, Morag stepped inside. “Oh my goodness!” she said. The others jostled in behind her. They were standing on a broad stone ledge over a canal in a dim cave. Moonstones in the ceiling sent shadows across the water, which glowed blue and clear. Moored to the ledge was a wooden dinghy bobbing below them.

  “To the boat,” Henry ordered. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  Morag jumped in first, followed by Bertie and Aldiss. They had to hold on as the boat rocked dangerously when Shona climbed aboard, almost tipping them out into the water.

  Brrrrring! came a noise from the stern. They all looked round to see that a green elf with webbed feet had appeared. He was munching on a huge sandwich.

  “Behold!” said the elf wearily between bites. “I am the Whitewater Boatkeeper. Or the Elf of the Punt. Whichever you like. Where to?”

  “Can you take us to the town gates?” Bertie asked. “We shall be most grateful,” he added when the elf frowned at him.

  “And what shall be my payment, guv’nor?” the creature said, casually flicking a lettuce leaf into the water.

  “How about a sandwich of your choice, O elf person!” Bertie replied.

  “Anything I like?” the elf asked. He eyed the dodo suspiciously. Bertie nodded.

  “Nice try,” the little man said. “But I don’t smell bread on any of you.”

  Bertie patted his magic satchel. “This bag can produce anything I ask for. Test me!”

  “It’ll cost you a pickled-Orlan-fish-with-Brussels-sprouts-and-marshmallow sandwich,” said the elf. He waited for the dodo’s reaction.

  “Consider it done!” said Bertie, triumphantly removing a steaming, gold-crusted sandwich dripping with melted marshmallows. “Now please, let’s get going.”

  The elf grabbed the sandwich and tucked it into his short green jacket. Without another word, he leapt onto the ledge and untied the mooring ropes. Giving the boat a nudge from the shore, he jumped back on board and took hold of the rudder. Aldiss rushed to the bow. “Charge!” he squeaked, whipping his tail excitedly.

  The boat began to drift leisurely down the canal.

  “I thought you said this was the quick way?” Morag hissed to Henry. The medallion harrumphed.

  “It ought to be. Point me to him,” he ordered. Morag swiveled round in her seat and held up the medallion. “Boatkeeper, can you please increase the speed?” said Henry. “We can’t waste time. We must reach the gates quickly.”

  “Ah, what’s the hurry?” grumbled the elf.

  “A friend’s life depends on it,” said Shona.

  “The express service will cost you another sandwich.”

  “Now, wait a minute! That’s not fair,” protested Bertie.

  “Ooooooh!” replied the elf theatrically. “Well, maybe I like to take things slow and maybe I’ll just keep going at this speed and maybe you’ll just have to deal with it. Unless your little magic bag has something else in there for me …”

  Before Bertie could answer, Morag stepped in. “Didn’t you hear what the dragon said? Our friend’s life is in danger. Now, unless you want yours to be in danger too, you’d better step on it!”

  The elf looked Morag up and down, his eyes wide with surprise. He could see she meant what she said. “Hold on tight!” he cried. He let go of the rudder and swung his legs out of the boat and into the water, then he began to paddle with all his might. The boat plowed forward, faster and faster, until the walls and the canal became a long blur of blue-gray. Seconds later they arrived, with a lurch and a huge spray of water, at another dock.

  “This is the nearest port to the gate,” the elf informed them as he climbed back into the boat and gave his dripping feet a shake.

  “Thank you,” said Morag, jumping off onto the stone floor. The elf gave her a quick nod. Once all of his passengers had disembarked, he swung the boat out into the water again and sailed off down into the tunnel, singing loudly between bites of his hard-earned sandwich.

  “He was a strange little man,” Morag remarked as the elf’s voice was finally swallowed up in the darkness.

  “All Whitewater Elves are like that,” Bertie replied. “They’re a peculiar lot. Only live for the fun of tearing down fast rivers. Can’t understand what that one is doing here. I wouldn’t have thought it was his sort of place.”

  “He was banished,” replied Henry from Morag’s neck. Before they could ask any more questions, he added, “Now can we stop jabbering and get on?”

  A stairwell rose from the dock in a tight spiral, reminding Morag of stairs in a castle tower. They climbed until they came to a trapdoor in a low ceiling. Morag placed both hands against it and pushed, but it did not move. Bertie and Aldiss ran to help her and together they pushed some more.

  “Let me try,” said Shona.

  It was a tight squeeze, but somehow Morag, Bertie and Aldiss got out of the way to let the dragon past. She put her great green shoulder against the trapdoor and …

  “Nggghhhhh!” She shoved with all her dragon-might. “Oh, this is no use! Stand back and cover your heads for this bit.”

  Unsure of what she planned to do, Morag, Aldiss and Bertie jumped down a few stairs and ducked. Shona inhaled deeply, blowing a blast of fire from her mouth, the flames licking greedily at the old wood. After a few seconds of white heat, the trapdoor creaked, buckled and disintegrated, leaving behind a smoking pile of cinders.

  “Told you I’d get it open.” Shona smiled as she cleared the remnants of the door and climbed into the chamber above.

  One by one they clambered up and found themselves in what appeared to be the cellar of a pub. There were large barrels of ale lined against one wall; another had shelves filled with packets of Snap Crack Cauldron-Boiled crisps and tiny bottles of Human Style soda; a third wall was propped up with wine rac
ks and beer bottles; and the fourth was empty save for a wooden staircase leading upward. Without a word to each other, they climbed it and opened the door at the top. Morag glanced out. “I’m not sure where we are,” she said.

  “Let me have a look,” said Aldiss. He peered out, then smiled. “We’re in the Gallipot Inn at the bottom of Merlin’s Walk. We’re minutes from the gates. Come on.”

  Before they could stop him, Aldiss threw open the door and scurried past the astonished faces of the handful of customers and an indignant barman. Sheepishly, the others followed and skipped outside into the cold winter’s day before anyone could ask why they had been in the cellar. Morag pulled the door shut behind her just as the barman shouted “Hoi!” They raced down the street and round the corner, all panting hard. They soon stopped to gather their breath.

  “There’s the gates!” they heard Aldiss shout excitedly.

  “Aldiss! Wait for us!” Bertie called as he waddled after him, face red with exertion. But the rat was already hurtling toward the gates. Shona, Bertie and Morag could do nothing but follow.

  When Marnoch Mor was built, a wall was erected around the kingdom to keep the townspeople safe inside. Over this a huge dome was created by the Eye of Lornish to make Marnoch Mor invisible to the outside world. The townspeople had always felt safe inside—until now.

  As Morag ran after the rat, she realized the streets were full of worried people scurrying here and there as if the end of the world had come. She was so distracted that she did not look where she was going and ran flat into a gate guard. The impact sent her flying backward onto the cobbles. She winced as she hit the ground, but the guard did not move and stood to attention.

  “What are you doing here, Miss?” he said as Bertie and Aldiss helped the winded girl to her feet.

  “We need to leave Marnoch Mor,” Morag replied breathlessly. “Please, will you open the gates for us?”

  The guard sniffed and looked down his large nose at her. “Sorry, but I can’t do that,” he said. His eyes snapped front again. “They are locked until further notice.”