Beyond Platform 13

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Beyond Platform 13 Page 5

by Sibéal Pounder


  ‘My parents!’ Lina said, suddenly feeling a rush of guilt. ‘They’ll be wondering where I am.’

  Miriam Hughes-Hughes puffed up her chest. ‘I shall deliver a message to them. I’ll tell them you will be home soon.’

  ‘Oh, Miriam Hughes-Hughes, I’m not sure …’ Ben began, knowing full well a human would find little comfort in a message delivered by ghost.

  ‘It is no trouble, dear Prince. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. I’ll go now – I insist.’ And then she sailed off grandly through a wall before anyone could stop her.

  Ben sighed. ‘Maybe your parents will enjoy her visit …’

  Lina nodded politely, knowing full well they almost certainly would not.

  ‘HAIR ROLLERS?’ Odge suddenly shouted. She waved Netty’s letter above her head. ‘HAIR ROLLERS!’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Lina whispered to Ben.

  Ben shrugged.

  ‘She’s gone and done it – she’s the chief handmaid to the harpies,’ Odge said, talking fast. ‘But she’s also planning some sort of plot involving hair rollers. I told her to spy only – no plots. But you know what Netty is like.’

  ‘What is Netty like?’ Lina whispered to Ben.

  ‘Clumsy,’ Ben whispered back as Odge paced the room.

  ‘We can’t let her do anything stupid,’ Odge said.

  ‘A plan to stop some evil harpies with hair rollers doesn’t sound stupid,’ Lina lied.

  Odge collapsed on one of the cauldrons and dunked her head in it. When she came back up, she had a dozy grin on her face. ‘Ah, that potion takes you to the Haglands in the summertime.’

  Ben bent down, wiped the gloop from her face and grabbed her shoulders. ‘Gribs, you don’t have time for trips to the beach.’

  ‘I know,’ Odge snapped. It was the first time Lina had seen her angry at anyone other than herself. ‘I went to get the mistmaker master, did I not?’

  Ben clearly didn’t dare to say anything.

  ‘Do you have any more ideas to stop them?’ Lina interrupted.

  ‘At the moment, we don’t have a plan at all,’ Ben whispered.

  Odge pinched the bridge of her nose and paced the room, her blue boots crunching the rocky ground as she went.

  ‘The problem is the harpies have retreated to the mountains,’ Ben explained to Lina.

  ‘Why don’t we head to the mountains, then,’ Lina said, still dressed as a rock.

  ‘I have considered it,’ Odge said. ‘But I was hoping Netty would be able to report on their movements. They won’t always stay up there – they’ll move around. Ben is right – when they fly, they are almost impossible to stop. Our only hope now is that we can somehow ambush them when they’re on the ground. But for a plan like that we need the insider information from Netty. We need to know exactly where they will be and when.’

  ‘What if they came right here?’ Lina said, an idea forming. ‘And we were ready for them.’

  ‘To Central Mist?’ Odge said with a laugh. ‘Oh, Lina, they won’t do that. They destroyed the palace and the whole town square; it’s a wreck, and they hate a mess. No, they’ll wait until the gumps close, and then – knowing all the creatures they hate are on the other side of it – they’ll rebuild Mist exactly the way they want it to be. Probably with a lot of harpy statues, those arrogant birds.’

  ‘But I think I know what would get them to come flying back here,’ Lina said with a smile.

  She meant herself – the human girl who had managed to get through the gump. They could use her as bait! It would be a wonderful solution to an awful problem, and Lina would finally be useful. They could use her to tempt the harpies – they would surely be curious as to why their security system had failed! And they hated humans. It was a brilliant plan.

  ‘There is one person,’ Lina continued, giddy with excitement and adventure, ‘who would tempt them here.’

  Ben stepped forward. ‘A prince,’ he said bravely. ‘They’ll come if they know I’m here.’

  Lina tried to interrupt, but it was no good.

  ‘Ben, that might just work,’ Odge said.

  ‘No – me!’ Lina cried, trying to jump up and down, but the rock costume was too restrictive. ‘I am the one. I honestly don’t mind doing—’

  Odge put her arms round Lina and Ben. ‘We’ll have the rebellion team rig some traps in Central Mist, then we’ll send Ben out, and when the harpies come for him – BOOM! The traps will catch them. They won’t be able to fly off – we’ll have the advantage. We can’t fail.’

  Lina hoped with all her heart that Odge was right …

  CHAPTER 7 ½

  THE P.S.

  Dearest Ben,

  We are coping well here at the school but missing you terribly. The canteen witches have been very kind and given us their jobs while they take a few days off to visit a theme park. Apparently a new roller coaster has just opened. The witches may be magic, but roller coasters absolutely astound them.

  I must say, getting the hang of human things is tricky after a lifetime on Mist. My job is to deep-fat fry things, and I am rather good at it now, if I do say so myself. I’ve done chips, fish and homework jotters. Your father is on washing-up duty, which is a lot more difficult here in the canteen. He’s been doing plates and cups and all the gym kits, which the kids tell us is definitely the responsibility of the canteen staff. Oh, and a squirrel.

  The head teacher is so incredibly lovely and always asking us if we’re feeling all right and if we need our ‘heads checked’, which is presumably her area of expertise, given her job title.

  All in all, this experience has been wonderful, though I am plagued with constant worry for our island and especially your dear mistmakers. I am so proud of you for all that you are doing to help, and our steadfast and wonderful Odge too. But please, dear Ben, do be careful. The harpies’ tricks and talons are not to be taken lightly, and I do not want you doing anything that could put you in harm’s way. You must not let them find out you’re still there.

  We think of you always and await your arrival through the gump. Come soon, Ben.

  Love,

  Mother and Fat-

  P.S. Mistma ter Miss-es visit

  The last section of the letter had been so thoroughly deep-fat fried that the final sentences were too crispy to read. They crumbled to nothing before any of them even noticed they were there, which was unfortunate because there was a very important P.S. right at the bottom.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE ROCK MONSTERS

  Netty Pruddle tiptoed along the corridor in the old troll house and heaved her way up the giant stone steps. They were large even for a sizeable hag, and she had to hurl herself up with both arms and flip herself over in order to make it. She understood now why piddly little humans always described walking up stairs as ‘climbing’ them – it really was a climb when one was so small compared to the stairs.

  In Mrs Smith’s bathroom, she found the stash of hair rollers. She reached into the pocket of her apron and rummaged around, pulling out identical ones and replacing them one at a time.

  ‘NETTY!’ came a screech, making the hag jolt.

  She raised her head slowly, sneaking a peek out of the window. She could see Mrs Smith and the other three flying fast towards the house.

  ‘NETTY!’ Mrs Smith screeched again, making the windows shatter.

  Netty hastily picked up the last of the hair rollers and stuffed them in her apron. She could hear the hags flying up the stairwell, their talons scraping the steps as they went. With trembling hands she lined up the remaining rollers just as Mrs Smith kicked open the door. The harpy flung her handbag across the room and straight out of the broken window, stopping and staring in disbelief as it soared down the mountain and toppled a hag standing by a tree.

  ‘Netty,’ she snapped. ‘I can’t believe you broke the window!’

  ‘Actually, Mrs Smith, that was you when you screech—’

  The harpy grabbed the hag’s lips to shh he
r. ‘Be careful, hag – ’ she shook her head – ‘that sounded like rebellion to me.’

  Netty tried to back away, but the talons dug deeper.

  Mrs Smith’s harpy friends flew into the room.

  ‘Did you ask her? I bet she knows,’ Miss Witherspoon hissed as the others whispered excitedly.

  ‘Knows what?’ Netty asked quietly as soon as Mrs Smith eased her grip.

  ‘We went down to the swamp to have a word with our new swamp-fairy army,’ Mrs Smith said, flying in circles round Netty’s head and making her feel dizzy. ‘And we bumped into a little rock monster who had something fascinating to say.’

  Netty gulped. Could a rock monster know she was a secret spy? Did they know about her plan with the hair rollers? Her gaze instinctively shifted to them neatly lined up on the table. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut, realizing she might be giving the plan away. A bead of sweat dribbled down her boil-covered face.

  ‘Netty,’ Mrs Smith whispered. ‘You’re a very famous hag, aren’t you? Famous for your beauty?’

  Netty nodded.

  ‘You’ve graced the covers of hag magazines and modelled hag clothes?’

  Netty nodded again, keeping her eyes squeezed shut so she didn’t look at the hair rollers again.

  ‘You’re a popular hag, aren’t you? You know lots of other hags. In fact, I bet there’s not a hag on the Island that you don’t know.’

  Sweat cascaded down Netty’s face as if it were a boil-infested waterfall.

  ‘You know Odge Gribble, the one we believe is plotting a rebellion.’

  Netty rolled her head back and paused, as if searching the recesses of her brain for an Odge. ‘Who?’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘Splodge?’

  ‘I think we all know you know Odge Gribble,’ Mrs Smith said impatiently, clicking her fingers to summon Miss Witherspoon, who produced a piece of paper, which Mrs Smith inspected closely. ‘You were due to attend Mist University together. You applied to be roommates because, and I am quoting, We’ve known each other forever and are the best of friends.’

  In that moment, Netty was pretty certain she was going to be killed. Odge did have a habit of getting her into the most dire situations, like all those times she wrote letters pretending to be her, using her ‘Netty the Hag’-branded stationery.

  Dear Mutant Mermaids,

  I’ve got to squeeze my boils, and I was wondering if you’d mind if I squeeze them into your beloved lagoon? It won’t take long, and I’m positive you’ll be delighted with the gooey results.

  Your pus-filled hag friend,

  Netty

  Netty had to take the long route into town after that to avoid being splashed aggressively by the mutant mermaids.

  Dear Ben,

  Netty here. Just wanted to say how much I adore your eyebrows. May I borrow them?

  Yours less-hairily,

  Netty

  Ever since the joke letter, Ben always held on to his eyebrows when he saw Netty coming, as if she might rip one off and try it on.

  ‘Hellloooo?’ Mrs Smith snapped, clapping in Netty’s face. ‘Is the hag still there?’

  Netty shook her head, leaving the daydream behind to return to the dark, damp troll mansion.

  ‘You see, the rock monster spoke of a human – a young girl with a mistmaker backpack.’

  Netty opened her eyes excitedly. ‘I know nothing about a human girl with a mistmaker backpack,’ she said, and that was the truth. One of her face boils burst from the relief of it all, sending a spray of pus on to Mrs Smith’s spindly nose.

  ‘The rock monsters seemed to think she wasn’t alone. They saw her with a hag.’

  Netty bit her lip, worried for a second that perhaps she had befriended a human girl with a mistmaker backpack and had just forgotten. She searched every corner of her brain before concluding, ‘It definitely wasn’t me!’

  ‘Of course it wasn’t you, idiot,’ Mrs Smith snapped. ‘It was that troublemaker, Odge. She’s your friend, is she not?’

  ‘She is not,’ Netty lied.

  ‘What would she want with a young human girl with a mistmaker backpack?’ Mrs Smith enquired, leaning so close to Netty that her boils retreated into her face in fear.

  ‘Um … she might … want a friend … because I’m on your side now?’

  Mrs Smith rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be a fool, Netty. Odge brought that human through the gump for a reason, AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT IS!’ She grabbed Netty by the hair and guided her to the window. ‘If you were Odge, and you were hiding a human on this island, where would you go?’

  Netty knew exactly where, but she was determined not to say.

  The harpies weaved closer and stroked Netty’s frazzled hair.

  ‘Oh, pretty, big hag,’ Miss Witherspoon chimed torturously. ‘Did your hag friends all hide and leave you out?’

  Mrs Smith flew in front of her, pushing the other harpies aside. ‘You may not know Odge’s hiding place, but what I really want to know, Netty Pruddle, is whose side are you on?’

  Netty felt her breath quicken and tried desperately to slow it. She had a habit of hyperventilating when trying to lie. Her eyelashes flashed white and, outside, snow began to fall.

  It distracted the harpies, allowing Netty a moment to compose herself.

  ‘SNOW?’ Mrs Smith roared as her cronies flew fast to the window. ‘It hasn’t snowed on Mist … ever. Did you do this, hag?’

  ‘No,’ Netty said, breathing a sigh of relief. It was nice not to have to lie – she didn’t start the snow, and that was the truth. Some hags could tell the weather with their eyelashes, but they couldn’t control it. It was a common misconception among the less intelligent on Mist that hags were responsible for the weather – and they were often blamed for it, especially the rain. Netty couldn’t count the number of times she’d had an angry umbrella hurled at her and been yelled at to turn the rain off.

  ‘Peculiar,’ Mrs Smith said, curling her talons in thought. ‘Very peculiar.’

  ‘Oh look,’ Miss Green said to Mrs Smith. ‘Your hair rollers have arrived! May I borrow a few?’

  Netty tried not to grin.

  ‘Netty,’ Mrs Smith said, her attention turning once again to the hag. ‘Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. You’ve done very well for today, and I am satisfied that you are on our side.’

  She didn’t need any encouragement – Netty was out of the door in seconds. She had to warn the rebellion that the harpies were on to them. Odge must know – and fast. And whoever this little human was, they needed to get back through the gump; they were in severe danger! She charged down the mountain, feeling very smug that she’d fooled Mrs Smith into thinking she had no idea where Odge was hiding.

  The harpies hovered at the window, watching her run.

  ‘And now we let her lead us straight to them,’ Mrs Smith said with a satisfied smirk. ‘I want to know what that dratted human girl is doing here.’

  They clawed their way out of the broken window and took to the skies.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE HUMAN

  It was the rumble that they heard first. To Lina’s untrained ears, it sounded sinister, like the furious stomps of something heavy and hungry, but Odge didn’t look worried. In fact, her eyes lit up.

  ‘I know those monstrous footsteps! Netty’s here!’ she cried, lifting her feet from the steaming fairy pool and pulling on her boots. She ran out of sight, leaving Lina, Ben and Ray alone with the fairies.

  ‘She’ll be back,’ Ben said, twisting so he could peek down the corridor. ‘It’s almost certainly not Netty; it’s probably just a baby troll in a mood.’

  Ray wheezed and laid his fluffy head on Lina’s lap. She stroked him and watched as the little fairies by the pool began fluttering about, saying the most foul swears Lina had ever heard in her life.

  ‘Pretend you didn’t hear that,’ Ben said with a wince. ‘Fairies are quite … rude.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Lina whispered to one of them, being car
eful not to lean in too close. Being flower fairies, they were constantly met with the giant nostrils of those who wanted to sniff them, and Odge had warned Lina not to stick her nose anywhere near them.

  ‘Snow,’ one of the fairies whispered, pointing at the pond while the others swore and screeched.

  ‘And it seems they’ve been drinking,’ Ben said, throwing his hands in the air. ‘I’m sorry about them, Lina. They are quite irresponsible sometimes.’

  ‘No!’ another squeaked, also pointing at the pond. ‘Look.’

  Lina gently moved Ray on to the feathery bed Ben had made for him and grabbed hold of the muddy rocks, pulling herself up and over the lip of the pond until her nose was practically dipped in it.

  ‘Snow,’ the fairies all said at once.

  Lina couldn’t believe what she was seeing. In the pond, amongst the ripples and glinting rocks, was an image of the Island of Mist. Strong waves thrashed the town walls, spilling over into the rubble that had once been the shops of Centre Mist. And there – falling heavily, before landing and being swept away by the waves – was snow.

  ‘Is that normal?’ Lina asked.

  ‘There is something very wrong with this island,’ Ben muttered, dusting off his trousers as he got up to take a look. ‘Without the mist from the mistmakers, the weather has been increasingly strange.’

  Lina was about to say they should peek outside, it could be a glitch in the fairies’ magic, but she stopped when she spotted something emerging from the snow-soaked skies, flying faster and faster. She peered closer before recoiling in horror.

  ‘Harpies!’ Lina gasped as the fairies got distracted and started pulling each other’s wings.

  It was then that Odge came strolling back in, holding Netty’s hand. ‘I’d recognize the sound of her thwomp-walk anywhere! Lina, this is my friend, Netty – the one who’s undercover at Mrs Smith’s house for us. Now, Netty, I’m glad you’re here because we’ve just hatched a plan. We’re setting traps in Centre Mist for the harpies! They should be ready by tomorrow. We’ll lure them down and get them once and for all!’

 

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