Authors: Marita Conlon-Mckenna
In Deep Dark Wood (4 page)
M
ia went through the gap in the hedge almost every day, checking on the progress of the injured dragon. She still blamed herself for Trig’s accident.
‘He’s not like the others,’ said Bella. ‘He’s not as big or quick or bright. I suppose he’s the weakling of the bunch. There always seems to be one, no matter how hard you try to care for them and teach them.’
The old woman herself looked tired. Her face at times had a greyish pallor, and the veins across her brow became a livid purple colour. She looked old and frail, and Mia did her best to help as much as she could, running to the village for groceries, cleaning up the house and caring for the young dragons. She wondered why Bella didn’t just use her powers to conjure up some helpers and make things a lot easier for herself.
‘I am old, child, and will not waste my magic powers on silly tricks and showing off,’ said Bella, reading her mind.
The best thing about going next door was having time to be with the dragons, especially Trig. He was her favourite now. The small, blue-green dragon moved around slowly and stiffly, obviously still in pain, and would look up from where he was sitting, hoping that she would stop to pat him and talk to him, cocking his head to one side, listening to her.
‘He won’t eat a thing!’ complained Bella. ‘He’s gone right off his food.’
Mia didn’t blame him – the pinkish raw meat that Bella cut into thin strips and served to the dragons looked and smelled absolutely disgusting. She didn’t dare ask Bella what kind of meat it was.
‘Blues are always finicky eaters. Give me greens or blacks any day. I don’t know what’s to become of him, he’s not getting any stronger. A sick dragon is a sorrowful thing to behold, Mia, that is why I worry about this one so much.’
Trig did look miserable. He was certainly not as big or strong or clever as the other dragons, but Mia knew he was bright enough to follow Bella’s every move, and to notice everything she herself did when she called to the house.
‘He needs so much attention and care,’ sighed the old woman,’ and I’m old and tired. It’s just too much when all the others need looking after too. It’s not fair on them.’
Mia didn’t know what to say.
‘Blues were always difficult to raise, I suppose that’s why they were considered precious and rare if they survived.’
‘He will survive, Mrs Blackwell. Trig will survive! Won’t he?’
Bella turned her head away, refusing to answer. Mia was upset and wondered if the small, blue dragon had understood everything they’d said. Judging by the reproachful look in his shimmering, emerald-coloured eyes, she guessed he had.
‘That wing of his is stiff, Mia. I’m not sure if he’ll ever be able to fly properly and gain the height a dragon needs, and his tail, I suspect, will always be slightly misshapen, which may cause balance problems. There is nothing more I can do. You know I have to make preparations for my return to Blackwell Castle and my dragon school.’
‘What would happen to a dragon that is weak and sick, and cannot fend for itself?’ asked Mia.
‘Sometimes dragons attack their own kind and kill those they consider weak or sick, though often they will just let them be and watch as nature takes its course,’ said the old woman matter-of-factly.
Mia couldn’t bear to think of such a thing happening to Trig and was determined to make him better. The small dragon lapped up all the extra attention as Mia spent more and more time with him. She coaxed him from his straw bed in the corner to get up and move around and become more agile. Bella watched approvingly, well pleased with her young apprentice.
Mia also tried to tempt Trig with a variety of foods, saving stuff from her school lunchbox and sneaking things from the fridge at home. Trig would sniff at everything curiously before looking up at her sad-eyed, rejecting the foods he did not like. By accident she discovered he loved apples and made sure to
bring some every day. He also liked cheese and crackers and carrots and grapes. He adored chocolate, but she was sure it was bad for him and pretended not to have any more.
‘You’d best get home,’ suggested Bella, one dismal grey evening. ‘’Tis beginning to rain.’
Mia patted each of the dragons goodbye, before putting up her pink umbrella and letting herself out the back door. It was lashing rain, the water bouncing off the umbrella as she tried to run through the wet grass. Her trouser ends and shoes got soaked. Her heart sank knowing the trouble she’d be in for staying out on such an evening. Trying to think of some excuse, Mia became aware of a whining cry close by. Was it Jackie? Something moved behind her, she could sense it.
‘Trig!’ she cried.
She almost jumped out of her skin, seeing the young dragon following her.
‘What are you doing, you silly thing!’ she said, running back to him. He was soaking wet but oblivious to this, he butted her playfully with his snout.
‘You should be inside!’ she scolded, trying to sound cross with him. ‘You’ll catch cold! What will Bella say about this?’
As if understanding, the dragon dropped his head, whimpering quietly.
‘You can’t come home with me,’ she explained firmly. ‘I wish you could Trig, but you just can’t.’
Putting down her umbrella, she managed to half turn and lift the dragon. The two of them getting soaked through, rain dripping down her face and eyes, as stumbling she awkwardly
carried Trig back to the house.
The old woman opened the door before she even had a chance to knock.
‘So, he followed you.’
Panting and out of breath, Mia was glad to put the heavy young dragon down on the kitchen table and hand him over to Bella.
‘He must have escaped somehow, he was behind me, luckily I heard him and I–’
‘Trig has chosen you to be his keeper, Mia. Dragons do that. It is a bond that is not easily broken,’ said the old woman seriously.
Mia did not know what to say, but she could see a new respect in Bella’s eyes. Soaked to the skin, her long, wet hair plastered to her scalp, she sighed.
‘I have to go home,’ she explained. ‘I’m in enough trouble already, but tell Trig I’ll see him again tomorrow – I promise!’
T
he Murphys couldn’t understand it. Mia was spending every spare minute of her time with the old Bird Woman. What the two of them talked about or did was a total mystery to everyone else. Mia raced through her homework every evening, and no longer bothered with her favourite television programmes in her rush to visit Bella.
‘I asked Mia if she would she like to have some friends over after school,’ said her mother, perplexed, ‘and she tells me she’s too busy. None of her friends have been here for weeks! You know, I met Mrs Blackwell the other day when I was shopping and she seems a nice, gentle sort of person, slightly eccentric, perhaps, but for the life of me I cannot understand why Mia is so taken with her.’
Since the day in the woods, Rory knew that Mia had been avoiding him. He wondered sometimes whether the conversation about imaginary dragons had actually taken place.
Mia had made no further mention of any such creatures since. He missed playing and hanging around with her, but he was busy finishing a project for school on the Romans – he had to make a model of the Coliseum out of cardboard. As well as that, he was playing in the football league finals after school. Anyway, his sister seemed happy enough without him, so why should he worry.
Mum and Dad were preparing for a trip to America where Dad was to take part in the annual Amateur Magicians of the World Convention in Las Vegas.
‘You will keep an eye on Mia while we’re away, Rory? I can rely on you to look after your sister, can’t I?’ Mum said, looking somewhat worried.
‘Of course, Mum,’ he promised. ‘Granny and Mia and I will be fine. Don’t worry about us!’
The day of their departure finally came. Mum was busy checking passports and airline tickets and American dollars, and singing ‘Viva, Las Vegas’ under her breath when she thought no one was listening
Rory helped Dad carry the suitcases and his props out to the car. He had never seen his Dad look so happy and excited. For the past two days he had rehearsed non-stop, perfecting his routine. His new trick, The Chinese Dragon, was amazing. A cardboard dragon would suddenly appear from a cloud of smoke and belch smoke and flames at the audience.
‘Have you got everything, Matt?’ asked Mum, checking the
boot and the back seat.
His father did a quick mental check. Everything seemed to be in order. He reminded Rory of a great explorer setting out on an adventure.
‘We’d better hurry,’ said Dad, ‘or we’ll miss our flight.’
Mum gave them all a last hug and goodbye kiss.
‘Are you sure you’ll be able to manage, Rose, that the children won’t be too much for you?’
Granny pretended to look offended. ‘It’s only for a few weeks, Helen. We’ll be just fine. You and Matt go and enjoy yourselves in America. We’ll be dying to hear all about it.’
Rory and Mia and their grandmother stood watching as Mum and Dad drove off towards Glenkilty. They were flying to San Francisco first, and then on to Las Vegas. Mia was in a bit of a huff, she hated it when Mum and Dad went away and left her, even if Granny was in charge.
That evening, Mia was even more annoyed. She’d helped tidy up after tea and swept the kitchen floor, and yet Granny was insisting she stay home.
‘What are you going around to Mrs Blackwell’s for, Mia? What do you do next door, pet?’
Mia just shrugged her shoulders.
‘Mrs Blackwell is very old,’ began Rose Murphy. ‘She’s even older than I am. I know what a good, kind, sweet-hearted girl you are, Mia, but nobody expects you to spend every minute of your time with her.’
‘But I like going next door,’ Mia protested. ‘Nobody minded when Rory used go to see Mr Hackett all the time
when he lived there.’
‘That was different,’ interrupted Rory. ‘He used to help me build my airfix planes, and taught me how to play chess.’
‘Well, Mrs Blackwell teaches me things too.’
‘What sort of things, Mia?’ quizzed her grandmother.
‘All about the olden days.’
‘Olden days?’
‘Long ago, centuries ago, before you were born, Granny.’
‘Ah, history! What else do you do?’
‘I just help her, that’s all.’
‘That glasshouse of hers is magnificent. Do you help her out there?’ asked Granny, staring at her.
Mia blushed.
‘Is she growing plants in it like Barney Hackett did?’
Mia looked uncomfortable, unsure of what to say.
‘Is it like an aviary? Filled with birds?’ asked Rory. ‘Is that it? Mrs Blackwell loves birds, doesn’t she?’
Grateful to her brother, Mia just nodded. She didn’t want to deceive her family and tell lies, but she had to protect Bella and the dragons.
‘Was that a bird I saw you with the other night – you were carrying it in next door?’ asked Granny.
Glad of her Granny’s poor eyesight, Mia tried to think of what to say without telling a blatant lie.
‘It strayed outside, Granny. The poor thing got injured a while ago and I managed to catch it for Bella.’
‘You’re a good girl, Mia. I’m lucky to have such a granddaughter.’
Suddenly, as if realising that she had said too much, Mia stood up to go.
‘Listen, Mia, pet, I’d prefer if you didn’t go next door this evening. If you want to do something useful, why don’t you put the lead on poor Jackie and take her for a walk.’ Granny Rose watched the expression on Mia’s face carefully.
Mia didn’t know what to say. Why was Granny being such an interfering old busybody? Grabbing the dog’s lead, she ran out the back door, Jackie yelping with delight and in a frenzy of excitement at the prospect of a walk.
Rose Murphy sighed as her granddaughter left the room. ‘Rory, things are much worse than I expected. Mia is obsessed with that woman. She’s in great danger and we must try to protect her.’
Rory was stunned. This was a bit over the top. He came over and sat down near Granny. He was really fond of her and always did as she told him to, but what she was saying sounded barmy. He looked at her closely. Rose Murphy was a big, broad, strong, sensible Wicklow woman, not given to superstitious talk, and he knew she would move heaven and earth for the sake of her family.
‘Mia’s all right, Granny. Don’t worry about her.’
‘I can’t help it, Rory. You know, you and Mia are so different! You’re so practical, but your sister lives in her imagination. She’s caught up in something now, I can sense it.’
‘You think the Bird Woman is dangerous?’
‘Aye,’ murmured Granny. ‘What would the likes of that Bella Blackwell want with your sister? Has she no family or
grandchildren of her own? I can’t figure it out. It’s as if she’s put a spell on the child, bewitched her. Why would the old woman do such a thing?’
Rory could see Granny was getting agitated. Her face was flushed, her hands were shaking. The situation with Mia and Bella was obviously upsetting her and that worried him.
‘I’ll look after Mia, Granny, I promise!’
‘You’re a good boy, Rory. I think I’m beginning to understand the danger Mia faces. Your sister needs to be kept safe, protected.’
‘I’ll keep a good eye on her, don’t you worry,’ said Rory, giving his grandmother a hug.
Reassured, Granny Rose took up the newspaper crossword and a pen.
‘Conjuring tricks, five letters?’
‘Magic,’ replied Rory automatically. The two of them finished off the crossword together.