The Witch's Revenge

by D. A. Nelson

  She shuffled out the door and locked it behind her. Shona gave a low grumble in the back of her throat, snatched the handle and angrily yanked the door off its hinges. She threw it into the middle of the room, narrowly missing Aldiss and Bertie, who ducked just in time.

  “Shona!” Morag scolded. “Calm down!”

  “Calm down? She thinks she can lock us up. Well, she can’t. This is my island. Mine, not theirs!” the dragon snapped.

  “They’re prisoners here too,” a complacent tinny voice said. Henry had been watching everything with interest. “It’s not their fault that they’re here, Madam Dragon. Just as the loss of your dear family was not yours.”

  “Hmmph,” Shona snorted, stomping to the other side of the room, where she turned her back on her friends and sat in a smoky huff.

  Aldiss went to pacify her, but was stopped by Morag. “Leave her for a few minutes,” she said. “She’s sad more than angry.”

  Just then Ivy appeared in the doorway. The astonished old woman stared at the broken doorframe. Her mouth hung open in a perfect oval.

  “Shona felt trapped,” Aldiss explained.

  “She … er … has a thing about cages,” added Bertie.

  “I’m sorry about your door, but you needn’t have locked it,” Morag said.

  Ivy said nothing. She stepped over the bits of broken wood and approached Morag. “Are you and the Ancient One really here to free us?” Ivy asked quietly, hope brimming in her eyes.

  Morag was taken aback. Her only intention was to get Montgomery back. She gave Ivy a weak smile. “Well, to be honest, that’s not why we came here …,” she said. “But if we can do anything to help, we will.”

  “Then we’ll help you,” the old woman said. “We have someone who will guide you through the forest, then get you inside the castle.”

  “Oh thank you,” Morag replied gratefully. “And now, we really must leave.”

  “I understand. I’ve instructed her to take you this instant,” Ivy replied. “Time is also running out for our friends.”

  11

  Outside the roundhouse, they found a hooded figure waiting next to an old horse and cart.

  “Now,” said Ivy, handing Morag a bundle wrapped in a sand-colored cloth. “Take this. You’ll need provisions for the road—bread and cheese and some cake.”

  “Oh, I don’t think we’ll need this. We have Bertie’s magic bag to give us food,” Morag protested, trying to give the bundle back.

  “Magic?” laughed the old woman. “What good will magic do you in that wood? It doesn’t work. Even the great Devlish himself couldn’t use magic in there. It’s the trees, you see, they suck magic right out of the air. No, not even magic can help you in there, so you best take this.”

  Morag accepted the food parcel gratefully and thanked the old woman. Bertie gazed at her, worried. Before he could say anything, the girl reassured him.

  “We’ll be fine,” she said firmly, although she didn’t believe it herself. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

  The old woman took them to the cart. “Let me introduce your guide,” she said. “This is my granddaughter.”

  The figure, black cloak billowing in the wind, turned round and pulled down her hood. Morag gasped. “Chelsea!” she said, recognizing Mephista’s maid at once.

  “The one and only,” the girl replied with a laugh. “I see you’ve still got that big gold medallion on you.”

  Morag’s hand flew protectively to Henry.

  “Still not wanting to give it up?” Chelsea smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes. “I’ll give you a good price for it.”

  “He doesn’t belong to me. He’s his own person.”

  “Well said,” Henry piped up.

  Chelsea looked surprised. “It talks as well?” She gawped at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to sell it?”

  There was something unpleasant about her attitude that made Morag recoil.

  “Hey! There’ll be none of that kind of talk here,” snapped Ivy, giving Chelsea a clip on the back of the head. “You leave that girl’s necklace alone. You’ve got plenty without coveting everyone else’s things.”

  “Ow, that hurt!” Chelsea protested.

  “Now get on with what you’ve been asked to do,” the old woman ordered. “And I’ll hear none of your protests neither.”

  Chelsea opened her mouth to answer back but thought better of it. She climbed into the driver’s seat, taking up the reins, and sat sullenly while Morag, Bertie and Aldiss climbed aboard. Shona realized she was too big for the cart and would have to walk alongside.

  “Good-bye,” Ivy called, waving as they trundled toward the Deep Dark Wood. “Be careful! And watch out for the wolves. Good luck!”

  “Did she say ‘wolves’?” asked Aldiss as the cart trundled between the trees. He shivered.

  “Don’t worry,” Morag replied, “we’ve got Shona to protect us.”

  She smiled at her friend but the dragon grimaced; she was still in too much of a bad mood to share Morag’s optimism. Aldiss wasn’t convinced either, but he felt better for having the dragon with them. He chose a comfortable spot in some hay that had been left on the floor, curled up and was soon fast asleep. Morag, with Henry still around her neck, nestled down beside an anxious Bertie, who was almost hanging off the edge of the cart trying to peer between the trees.

  “You know,” he said, “I’ve never seen so many different species of trees in one place—and so tightly packed together.”

  “Maybe one day you can come back and study them properly,” said Morag.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Chelsea said from the front of the cart. “Those trees are liable to eat you if you get close enough.”

  “Don’t be so silly. Trees don’t eat birds,” Bertie said imperiously, gesturing to the passing branches that loomed low over the cart. “Trees are our friends. They allow us to build nests in them, they provide shelter and …”

  But the look Chelsea gave him made it clear she was not being silly. “Not these trees. They’d grab you right out of this cart! Don’t forget: they’re Murst trees. Nothing here is what it seems,” she said.

  Bertie gulped, glancing around at the forest with a new sense of fear.

  “So, Morag, my gran was too busy talking about that dragon to tell me what you’re doing back here,” Chelsea continued. “I thought you wouldn’t show your face after what happened last time.” The girl turned and gave Morag a sly look.

  “We need to get into the castle” was all Morag would say. “Can you get us in?”

  “Dunno,” replied Chelsea. “What’s it worth?” She nodded down at Henry. Morag swiftly tucked him out of sight.

  “Our eternal gratitude?” she replied tartly.

  “Hmmph,” Chelsea snorted. “I don’t want your gratitude. What use is that to anybody? I want something more valuable than that.”

  “How about your freedom?” Bertie asked.

  Chelsea turned right round in her seat to face him.

  “My freedom? How can you give me that?”

  “Once we’ve got what we’ve come for, we’re leaving by boat,” replied Morag. “You can come with us.”

  “You’re not just saying that?”

  “No! I promise.”

  That seemed to satisfy Chelsea, and she turned back to concentrate on driving the cart.

  Morag frowned at Bertie as if to say, That girl might be trouble. He nodded knowingly. With a wing, feathers splayed, he pointed to Chelsea, then to one of his eyes, and Morag understood what he was trying to say: We need to keep an eye on her. She nodded.

  “You lot are awfully quiet back there,” Chelsea said. “I hope you’re not changing your minds.”

  “We’re … uh … just keeping an eye out for these trees,” Morag said, gazing around her in case the girl decided to look round again.

  “Good idea.” Their driver smiled. “Look out for the hungry ones!”

  To Chelsea
, who knew this area well, Murst’s wild woods looked even darker and more menacing than usual. Apart from the thin shafts of light that cut through the heavy canopy of winter-bare branches, the forest was filled with twisted shadows. Ancient elms, oaks and pines towered above them, creaking and sighing in the wind as the cart rolled along the path toward the castle.

  As they moved deeper into the forest, Morag joined Aldiss and Bertie to huddle together in the hay, becoming increasingly aware of the strange rustlings and animal calls that seemed to come from all directions.

  “Wh-what was that?” said Aldiss, starting with fright.

  “It was probably only Shona stepping on a twig,” said Morag as the dragon caught up with them.

  “There it is again!” he said, his tail starting to quiver.

  “Don’t panic,” replied Morag, stroking his fur. “Sit closer to me and Bertie. We’re not afraid—are we, Bertie?”

  “Morag!” Bertie hissed. “I think we’re being followed.”

  “Are you sure you’re not imagining things?”

  “No, I’m not,” he said urgently. “We’re definitely being followed. I’ve been seeing the same sets of eyes for the last half hour.”

  “He’s right,” said Shona. “The smell of the forest has changed.”

  Now, that got Morag’s attention. Her eyes opened wide and she sat up.

  “What do you mean?” she asked nervously.

  “Look,” the dodo replied. He pointed to a clump of bushes. “Over there, and there. And back there too.”

  Morag followed Bertie’s outstretched wing and thought she could make out large dark shapes shifting behind the spiky greenery of the undergrowth. Wherever she looked, huge yellow eyes glinted hungrily in the shadows, and then vanished back into the dark. She thought she heard a low snarl from somewhere nearby. She gulped and turned to Chelsea. “I think you should try to make the horse go faster. We’re being followed.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that, it’ll just be the wolves,” the girl replied. “They don’t tend to attack during the day. We’ll be fine.”

  This did not make Morag feel any better. The horse whinnied nervously, its ears flicking, listening for danger.

  Morag tried again. “I really think we should move faster.…”

  “Look, are you driving this cart or am I?” Chelsea snapped, her voice ringing out through the forest. A million rustling creatures took fright and rushed from the path. Birds flew into the air, rodents burrowed deeper, but the shadows around them seemed to move closer.

  “Just the wolves, she says!” Bertie repeated incredulously.

  “WOLVES! Where?” Aldiss shrieked, glancing around him.

  “Shhhhhhhh!”

  “Sorry,” mumbled the rat, eyes wide as something went SNAP! in the forest beyond the path.

  “What was that? What was that?” he yelped, leaping into Morag’s arms.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, although she could not be sure. The trees seemed to be crowding closer; the bushes seemed thicker, and the shadows darker. And although she had not actually seen a wolf yet, she was sure she had caught something out of the corner of her eye: something large prowling through the undergrowth. But when she looked there was nothing there.

  “Y-you’re probably right, Morag,” stammered Bertie. “There’s nothing to … AAAWWK!”

  He jumped in an explosion of feathers as an enormous wolf pounced from the bushes and bounded after them. It was long and lean and the biggest animal Morag had ever seen. Its mean eyes never left hers as it bared its razor-sharp teeth. Morag caught her breath and shrieked, “Chelsea! Faster!”

  Chelsea saw the wolf and whipped the reins. “Hold on in the back!” she yelled. Her horse, wide-eyed and sweating, screamed as it flew into a gallop, dragging the cart bumping behind. Shona dove into the shrubs as the huge gray wolf tore past her. The dragon quickly regained her senses as seven more wolves stole out from the bushes and joined the chase. Chelsea, clinging to the side of the cart, her arms straining to keep hold of the reins, screamed at Morag. “Look under … get them …!”

  The wolves were baying and barking and snapping. The horse, running for its life, squealed. Aldiss was in Morag’s arms, whimpering in fright.

  “What? I can’t hear you!” Morag shouted. She was nearly thrown out of the cart as it swerved and threatened to overturn.

  “Under the hay! I put them there!” Chelsea screamed back. “The swords! Use the swords!”

  Morag dropped Aldiss with a bump. “Help me look, they’re here somewhere!” she instructed him and Bertie as the cart swayed and jolted with the wolves snapping at the wheels. The three friends began to scrabble at the hay, throwing it up and over the side. Some of it landed on the face of the lead wolf, who snarled it away. Morag pulled up the hay in handfuls as her friends rooted for the weapons.

  “What’s this?” Aldiss squeaked, tugging something with his teeth. Morag helped him lift a long heavy object that was covered in a sack cloth. She threw the cloth off and uncovered two swords with long gleaming blades. Grabbing one and swaying dangerously from side to side, Morag got to her feet and tried to hold it steady.

  “Come and get it!” she cried as the lead wolf growled at her, saliva dripping from its lips.

  No sooner had the words left her mouth than the cart smashed into a knotted tree root in the road. Morag was thrown into the air and crashed into Bertie and Aldiss on the floor of the cart. They heard the sound of splintering wood as the wheels buckled beneath them. The cart tilted and Aldiss was swept off, clawing and squeaking, toward the wolf’s ravenous jaws. Bertie dove forward, caught Aldiss’s tail in his beak and yanked him back just as the wolf’s fangs snapped together in midair.

  With a terrible crack the shaft gave way, crashing the cart and releasing the terrified horse. It reared up out of its restraints and galloped off into the forest.

  The wolves surrounded the cart as Morag helped Bertie and Aldiss to their feet and checked that Chelsea was all right. Clasping the sword tightly, Morag looked unblinkingly into the wicked eyes of the lead wolf. She could have sworn it was actually grinning at her. With her heart beating furiously, she brandished the sword, daring it to attack. The wolf licked its lips as it sized her up. As Bertie and Aldiss looked on, terrified, Morag stood still and held her sword steady. She knew that if they ran, they would be hunted down and torn to pieces. They had a better chance of survival if they stayed and fought.

  The wolf edged a few steps closer, its fur raised and its lips curled back in a bloodthirsty growl. Snarling and snapping, it readied itself to launch at the girl.

  “Oh no you don’t!” a voice called.

  The wolf jumped when a large, green scaly body bounded into the clearing.

  “Shona!” cried Morag.

  The wolf growled and bared its large teeth.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Shona snorted. “Now, I will give you one chance to leave my friends alone.”

  The wolf turned from Morag and began to circle the dragon. It paused, threw its head back and howled. Its hunting call was enough to bring the others, and before Morag knew what was happening Shona was surrounded. The dragon held her ground as the wolves gathered round her.

  “Leave now or you’ll be sorry!” she warned.

  The lead wolf crouched to pounce, muscles quivering.

  “Aaaaa​rrrrr​rrrrr​rrr!” the dragon roared as she unleashed a torrent of flames and smoke.

  For a moment the air turned white with fiery heat. Then the smoke cleared, leaving a ring of stunned wolves with blackened, hairless muzzles. The leader blinked, sneezed and scurried yelping into the forest, its tail between its legs. The rest of the pack followed, burnt and smoking.

  “Well,” said Shona to her astonished friends, “they won’t be bothering us again.”

  “You got here just in time,” beamed Bertie.

  “I was nearly eaten!” cried Aldiss.

  “Are you okay?” Shona asked Morag. The girl nodded and pu
t down her sword. “Thank you,” she said. “Another moment and they would have had us for dinner.”

  “I thought it would be best if I held back for a bit,” Shona explained. “So I could take them by surprise when their attention was focused on you.”

  “Now what?” asked Henry from around Morag’s neck.

  “The horse is gone and the cart is destroyed.”

  “Now we walk,” replied Morag determinedly as she jumped to the ground. “I’m not going to let a bunch of wolves stop us.”

  She set off in the direction of the castle but stopped when she realized the others weren’t following. “Are you coming?”

  “It’s such a long way,” began Aldiss, still quivering.

  “And we’re only little,” added Bertie, looking at Shona hopefully. “I don’t think we can walk that far, especially Aldiss, who is the littlest of us all.”

  The dragon rolled her big yellow eyes and sighed. “Get on,” she said, crouching to allow the animals to clamber onto her back. “Morag? Chelsea? Do you need a lift too?”

  Chelsea, who was quiet and shaking after their scare, was about to say yes, but was interrupted by Morag, who was determined to get there under her own steam. “No, we’re fine. We’ll walk,” she said. “Are you coming, Chelsea?”

  Annoyed that she was going to have to walk, Chelsea sullenly joined Morag and together the girls led the little band of friends through the forest.

  The walk was long and hard, and wasn’t made easier by the worsening weather. It grew colder and a sea wind started to howl through the trees, causing Aldiss to squeak with fright.

  Morag pulled her hood up, tucking Henry under her collar to keep him warm. She stuck a frozen hand in her pocket and felt the reassuring shape of her missing parents’ book. The familiar pang of sadness swept over her and she wondered where they were and if they were thinking about her. A flurry of snowflakes broke through the canopy of trees and landed on the sleeves of her coat. Normally snow would have delighted her, but this time she felt exposed, without warmth or comfort, and knew a heavy snowfall could be dangerous for them all, especially the cold-blooded Shona.

  “How much farther?” the dragon panted. She was shivering and had fallen behind.