by D. A. Nelson
There was the distant murmur of voices in the living room. A door squeaked and footsteps walked down the corridor toward her. Her back was still to the door, but she knew someone was standing behind her.
“Time to get you ready, girl,” Jermy growled. “Moira! Come and help me!”
Moira trotted into the kitchen, dangling a cigar from her thin fingers. From the corner of her eye, Morag watched her drop it on the floor and grind it into the tiles.
“Now, I’m going to remove this gag,” she said in Morag’s ear, “and you’re not going to scream or call for help because if you do, we’re going to hurt you. Do you understand?”
Morag nodded. Moira untied the kerchief and removed it. Morag coughed and stuck out her dry tongue, trying to lick her lips to get rid of the horrible taste.
“And when I untie you,” said Jermy, glee in his eyes, “you’ve to eat something and clean yourself up. We’ve got a very important visitor coming and you have to look your best so she knows how kind and generous we’ve been to you!”
Morag opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. She could not imagine why anyone important would want to visit Moira and Jermy. She glared up at them as Jermy untied her.
“Stop with the dirty looks,” Moira laughed, “you’re cracking me up!” She played with a long golden chain that was hanging around her neck under her collar. “I still can’t believe it’s really you!” she said, and smirked, pulling on the necklace to reveal a large smooth red stone.
Morag gasped. She had seen a necklace just like it somewhere else. She tried to remember. It was in Mephista’s room in Murst Castle. Isabella had been wearing an identical one in the painting.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
Moira looked a bit shifty and put the necklace back under her top. “What, this old thing? Jermy gave it to me for our first anniversary,” she replied a little too quickly.
“Let me see it,” Morag demanded, putting out her hand.
“No, you can’t,” Moira said, backing away, “it’s mine.”
Morag shook her head. “It’s not, is it?”
“It belonged to Jermy’s own dear departed grandmother.”
“I don’t believe you. You’ve stolen it!” Morag rose to her feet and took a step toward Moira. Jermy got between them.
“Now, just a minute,” he said. “Moira didn’t steal it from you. She was just keeping it safe, that’s all. Until you’d grown up. Isn’t that right, Moira?”
“Oh yes, my love, absolutely. I was going to give it back when you were old enough.…”
“What?” Morag’s mouth fell open. The necklace belonged to Isabella, but they were talking as if it were hers. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it was in the basket with you when we got you …,” said Jermy.
“From the orphanage?”
Jermy and Moira looked at each other. It was clear they knew something.
“We didn’t exactly get you from an orphanage,” Moira said slowly, as if telling the truth would bring some major calamity down on top of them all.
“So where did I come from?” Morag wanted to know. “And if that’s my necklace, why are you wearing it?
“She brought you to us after your parents went missing …,” Moira went on.
“Moira, my dear, I don’t think we should say any more. Not until she gets here,” Jermy warned.
“What difference does it make now?” Moira replied. “She’ll know soon enough.”
She went on: “This and that tatty old book you always carry about with you were the only things in the basket along with you.”
“So you stole it? You took something that had been left for me?” Morag erupted. She could feel rage rattling through her small body. “Give it back to me!”
She lunged at Moira, who let out a screech. As Jermy pulled her back, Morag missed hearing the ringing of the doorbell. She was not aware of the visitor’s footsteps in the hallway. When she heard a polite cough she spun around. The person standing in the doorway made her jump with fright.
“You!” she gasped. “It can’t be.… You’re dead!”
Standing before her in fine traveling clothes and a long dark cloak was Queen Flora. She smiled warmly. “Hello again, Morag,” she said, stepping into the dark kitchen. She waved a silver wand and the lights blinked on. Morag winced at the sudden brightness and shielded her eyes with her arm. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then opened one, then the other. Still Queen Flora stood before her.
“You died. I saw you,” Morag said, her voice trembling.
“It would take so much more than a poisoned dart to kill me,” the Queen said smugly. “I am, after all, the most powerful witch in this country. It took me a few days to recover, but I suppose you could say I’m back.”
Morag stared at her for a few moments before it dawned on her that Queen Flora was just the person she needed.
“You’ve got to help me,” she said, grasping the Queen’s hands. “Montgomery’s ill, he’s dying. I need to take him back to Marnoch Mor immediately. But I’ve been taken prisoner by these people and they’re going to sell me to someone … I don’t know who. But I need to get out of here.”
The Queen laughed lightly and prized her hands from Morag’s grip. “My dear, I know all about it,” she said. “I’m the person they contacted, and I also know about Montgomery’s impending death. How could I not? Marnoch Mor is crumbling as we speak.”
“You? I don’t understand,” replied Morag.
“I don’t expect you to. How could you, when I left specific instructions that you were not to know anything of your heritage,” she said sweetly. Seeing that the girl was still puzzled, the Queen went on: “It was I who handed you over to Jermy and Moira to look after when you were still a baby. I had no choice. The people could not know about you, it was too dangerous.”
She walked over to a window and stared out.
“When my son Nathan disappeared—” she began.
“Your son Nathan?” Morag cried. “I know where he—”
“Don’t interrupt, dear,” the Queen snapped. “When he disappeared, I thought my whole world had crashed down around my ears. My only consolation was that she had gone too.”
“She?”
“Isabella, the commoner he married.” Flora brushed a tear from her eye and continued: “I was against the marriage from the beginning. He was promised to another, someone who would unite our great houses, but he chose to go against our wishes and the wishes of our kingdom to marry her. If only he had listened to me, things would never have come this far.”
“Who was he supposed to have married?” Morag asked. She felt even sorrier for her friends in the paintings. No wonder they looked so sad.
“Mephista, of the House of Devlish.”
“What?”
“They had been promised to each other from birth. If he had married Mephista, the troubles between Marnoch Mor and Murst would have ceased and we would be at peace. Now Montgomery is missing and my kingdom is crashing about my ears and it’s all because of Isabella.”
“You can’t blame Isabella for what’s happened,” Morag cried. “It’s not her fault. If anyone’s to blame it’s that Mephista that you think so highly of. She kidnapped Montgomery to make me go after him—to make me go to Murst. Mephista needed my blood to resurrect her father. That’s the type of person she is,” ranted the girl. “And as for the House of Devlish, didn’t you know they took Nathan and Isabella?” she demanded.
The Queen’s sharp intake of breath proved that she did not.
“How? I would have known if they were holding him prisoner,” she insisted. “My powers would have found him if he was locked up in a dungeon.”
“But would your powers have found him locked up in a painting?” the girl went on. “He and Isabella were trapped in paintings in Mephista’s room. I’ve seen them with my own eyes. That’s how Devlish hid them from you.”
“Are you sure it is Nathan? I must
go to Murst!” the Queen shrieked, her face full of concern for her son.
Morag stepped back and looked with disdain at the witch before her.
“Isabella’s trapped too,” she said quietly.
“I don’t care about that little common witch,” spat the Queen, “but I do care for my son, my heir. Where is he?”
“Safe,” Morag replied. “They’re not on Murst anymore. I brought them back.”
The Queen looked overcome.
And then Morag added: “But before I tell you where they are, you can tell me something. How does this involve me? If you were the one who left me with Jermy and Moira, where did you find me?”
The Queen let out a loud sigh, pursed her lips and looked like she should speak no more.
“Well?”
“My son’s marriage produced a child, a girl child. I couldn’t let the people of Marnoch Mor know that this foolish marriage had created an heir. I hoped to annul it and make Nathan marry Mephista. So I took the child and hid her. Nathan and his wife went looking for her, but they never came back,” she said, face twisted with spite.
“That’s an awful thing to have done,” Morag replied, “but I still don’t understand how this involves me.”
“You are their child, Morag,” the Queen said. “I didn’t realize it when you first came to Marnoch Mor. Although you were human, I knew you could be trusted because you’d saved the Eye of Lornish. I didn’t find out who you were until a few days ago when the Stokers let me know you were missing. When they told me your full name, the name you were hidden with, Morag MacTavish … well, you can imagine how I felt. By the time I could do something about you, Marnoch Mor was crumbling and you had left to rescue Montgomery.”
“So … if I’m Nathan’s daughter,” Morag began, “that must mean that you are my …”
“Grandmother,” Queen Flora finished.
“How could you?” Morag cried. “How could you have taken me away from my parents? What kind of a person are you?”
Flora opened her mouth to say something else when there was a violent crash behind them. Everyone spun around to look in the direction of the front door. They heard the sounds of feathers flapping, thumping footsteps and high-pitched squeaks.
“Morag? Where are you? We know you’re in here. Aldiss sniffed you out!” squawked a familiar voice.
“Bertie! In the kitchen! Come quickly!” Morag shouted.
“Oh no you don’t,” snarled Jermy, grabbing her by the arms before she could run. “We were promised money to get you back and we’re going to get what’s owed us.”
Morag struggled against him, but could not loosen his grip.
“You’re going nowhere,” Moira sneered in her ear.
Queen Flora clenched her fists and vanished as the kitchen door burst open and a large green dragon filled the doorway, yellow eyes blazing and nostrils smoking with fury. Moira screamed and Jermy gaped in horror.
“Put. Her. Down,” Shona growled very slowly. Jermy snorted. “I SAID, PUT HER DOWN!” bellowed the dragon.
Face white with fear, Jermy dropped Morag and cowered in the arms of his terrified wife. Shona gave a disgusted snort, blowing a thick cloud of soot that blackened their faces and clothes. Now free, Morag ran to a relieved Bertie and Aldiss waiting in the hallway. Shona snarled a final warning, turned about and ran after her.
“Sorry we took so long,” said the dodo apologetically. “Aldiss got us lost. Again!”
“It’s my nose. I think I’m getting a cold or something,” the rat explained as they bounded down the hallway, over the wreckage of the front door and out of the house.
“Where’s Montgomery?” said Morag.
“With Kyle on the boat,” Shona answered. “He’s getting worse. Let’s go get him and take him back to Marnoch Mor before anything else happens tonight.”
Morag, who was not sure how to tell her friends what she had learned from the Queen, merely nodded and hurried after them toward the harbor.
“I thought I saw the ghost of Queen Flora back there!” Aldiss laughed nervously, a tiny rat thumb crooked in the direction of the house.
“Yes. It was Queen Flora,” replied Morag.
“But she’s dead,” said Bertie.
“Apparently not,” replied the girl. “But that’s not the only unbelievable thing that’s happened.”
“What do you mean, Morag?” asked Shona.
“I’ll tell you all about it on the way to the Sea Kelpie.”
Back in the kitchen, Jermy turned on the Queen as soon as she reappeared.
“Couldn’t you have made that brat invisible as well?”
“Whatever for?” replied the Queen.
“It would have stopped that lot from carrying her off,” said Moira.
“But I had to let them rescue her. Morag is going to take Montgomery back to Marnoch Mor,” replied the Queen with a small smile. “I need her to do that so I can rebuild my kingdom. There will be another chance to stop her, I can assure you of that.”
20
“He’s dying.”
The words rang in Morag’s head as she raced to Montgomery’s side. He was lying on the Sea Kelpie’s deck, wrapped in a blanket. Only his head showed, but it was enough for her to feel a knot of fear form in her stomach. They didn’t have much time. Kyle, who was supporting the dying wizard, gave her a nod when she approached.
“Glad to have you back, Morag,” he said. Shona boarded and lifted Montgomery onto her shoulder, then with a determined intake of breath leapt ashore.
“Safe journey!” the fisherman shouted after them as the friends ran off into the night. “And good luck!”
Morag, Bertie, Aldiss and Shona, with Montgomery over her shoulder, hurried off the harbor road and across the dark grasslands. They ducked at the sight of car headlights and ran when the coast was clear. Morag and Aldiss waded through the reeds and nettles and tall stiff grass until the soil became gritty. Before they could cry out in surprise, they fell off the edge of a dune, tumbling down a sandy slope to the beach. A flapping of wings followed by wheezing and stamping meant that Bertie and Shona were with them.
As they stumbled along the sand, Morag wondered about Mephista, locked up in the Sea Kelpie.
“Are you sure she won’t escape?” she asked.
“Yes, Kyle’s checked all the portholes,” replied Bertie matter-of-factly. “And he’s got her wand, so she can’t use that.”
“It’s only temporary anyway,” wheezed Shona. “Once we get back to Marnoch Mor, I’ll come back with some of the Volunteers and arrest her.”
The wind blew stronger, sending up spray from the incoming tide. Morag looked up at the dark sky and in the chalky moonlight could see the swell of heavy rain clouds sweeping in fast.
“We’d best hurry,” she said. “I think it’s going to pour.”
They stayed on the hard wet sand: it was easier to cross and not so full of broken shells and sharp spikes of driftwood. As they ran, Morag suddenly thought how peculiar they all must look scuttling along the seashore like this. If anyone saw them, what would they think? It was almost amusing. In her anxiety, Morag almost laughed out loud, but checked herself just in time.
“Are you all right?” Aldiss asked.
She wondered if, in the darkness, the little rat sensed her feelings.
“Yes, fine thanks,” she replied. “I think …”
“There it is!” shouted Shona. “Up ahead, follow me!”
Morag tried to see, but in the pale moonlight she found it difficult even to keep track of the dragon. “Where are you?” she shouted. “I can’t see you.”
“Up here,” called the dragon. “Climb up, there’s a path.”
Morag, Bertie and Aldiss scrambled up the slope, grabbing knots of dune grass to stop them sliding back down. They stumbled and tripped and fell and pulled themselves to their feet until at last they stood on top of the dune. Morag shivered in the darkness.
“Do you think we could have some light here, S
hona?” she asked the big black shadow that she hoped was her friend.
“I don’t see why not,” Shona replied, her voice low and deep. “We’re far enough down the beach not to be seen by humans. Ask Bertie.”
The dodo fished Moonstones out of his satchel and passed them round. They glowed blue, but were bright enough to see by, and soon the group found a path that snaked off toward the rocks.
“Never thought I’d be back here,” Bertie grumbled. “I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now. I hate sand. It gets between my feathers and under my beak.”
“Oh, stop moaning, Bertie,” Aldiss sighed. “Oh, look! We’ve arrived.”
Farther down the path was the dark opening of the cave that led to the secret Underground Station. Morag looked at it with a small sense of pleasure, for it was here a couple of months before that her life had changed forever when Bertie and Aldiss had agreed to take her to find the Eye of Lornish.
“Shona, put Montgomery inside, out of this wind,” Bertie instructed.
The dragon heaved Montgomery off her shoulder and laid him on a dry patch of earth inside the cave.
“Ooh, is that rain I feel?” the bird squawked, putting a wing up to the skies. “Everyone else inside too, please!”
Morag and Aldiss rushed in just as the heavens opened and the rain hammered down. Morag held her Moonstone up and scanned the walls of the cave. “Are you sure this is the right one?” said Morag. “I can’t see the door to the platforms down below.”
She turned to Bertie, who had found the door last time. The bird shrugged.
“Aldiss?”
“Hmmm,” said the rat, stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. “Now, where were you standing, Bertie, before you leaned against the door and fell down all those stairs?”
“Oh, don’t remind me,” winced the bird.
“You bounced all the way down!”
Morag felt along the ragged walls, searching for anything that looked as if it could be a door handle. Halfway between the floor and the wall she suddenly became aware of a knot of stone jutting outward. She pushed it and the sound of stone grinding against stone filled the cavern, until a passageway appeared before them.