Authors: Marita Conlon-Mckenna
In Deep Dark Wood (6 page)
T
hey flew all through the night, guided by the stars. The flying coat moulded itself to Mia’s body; her arms flapped up and down like wings and she was powerless to stop them, even though her muscles ached with exhaustion. She saw very little during the journey, conscious only of Bella’s sharp words, the constant sound of beating wings and the sensation of cold air against her face and limbs as they journeyed ever onwards.
The dragons were lost in concentration too, trying to keep up a steady pace, not too fast or too slow, as they flew through the moonlight. As they tired, each took a turn to rest on the old woman’s shoulder and let her fly for them. Mia was glad that Trig was squeezed tightly into the feathered pocket of her coat as she sensed that the young dragon was as scared as she was. Two of the female dragons, Flett and Frezz, flapped nervously alongside Bella, needing her constant guidance, and plummeting alarmingly every now and then.
Mia had lost all sense of time or place. Eventually, they began to slow down and circle, like wild swans or geese descending to earth. They flew lower and lower, heading towards a looming black shadow hidden in the depths of a large, dark wood, the twisted, crooked trees like deformed sentries guarding … what? Mia wasn’t sure. Was it a castle? She couldn’t tell because the moon was hidden behind a cloud.
With an awful bump and thud she hit the ground, her wings becoming arms again, though not quick enough to prevent her from grazing her leg on the cold stone of a cobbled courtyard. Bella landed softly beside her, then guided the dragons down one at a time.
Mia clutched her bloodied knee and tried to get a look around at her surroundings, but it was too dark to see anything.
‘Get up, child!’ ordered Bella, pulling her to her feet. ‘It’s far too cold to be outside. We’ve had a long journey and must rest.’
Bella led the way towards an arched entrance, her feet moving quickly and lightly, sure of the way even in the dark. Tired and dazed, the dragons followed her across the courtyard. She herded them all into in a huge stone pen. Turning back, Bella crossed the courtyard again and opened a door which led to a drab entrance hall. She climbed a curving stairway, with Mia stumbling along behind her. As they walked through corridor after corridor, dusty candles burst into flame as Bella touched them.
‘Here you are, Mia! This is where you shall sleep.’ Bella stopped suddenly and opened the door to a small, neat room,
suddenly illuminated by flickering candles. A narrow bed, covered by layers of thick, woven blankets and soft, inviting feather pillows, stood against one wall. There was a high, arched window directly across from it and in one corner a small log fire began to glow.
‘You must be tired, child.’
Tired was the very least of it. Mia had never felt like this before in all her eleven years. Her arms and legs and back seemed like wobbly jelly and she longed for sleep.
‘Good night, Mia!’ said Bella softly, closing the door of the room behind her as she left.
Alarmed at being left alone, Mia ran after her, only to hear the key turn in the lock. She tried to open the window but it was shut firmly and criss-crossed with heavy iron bars. She was a prisoner.
Sighing, she went over and sat on the bed. It was soft and springy. Taking off the feathered coat, she lay down and pulled the blankets up around her, taking in her new surroundings. This place was awful. It smelled damp and musty, as if nobody had slept there for a long, long time. Why, oh why had she ever befriended that strange old woman and believed in her? Tears welled in Mia’s eyes as she remembered her blue-and-white gingham bedroom at home, filled with her toys and books and clothes, her family asleep in their rooms beside her.
Through her tears, she was suddenly aware of movement from the discarded flying coat thrown across a chair in the corner. Trig peeped out, his bright green eyes blinking.
‘Trig!’ she whispered.
The small blue dragon twisted and turned, trying to free himself from the entangled feathers. Then, for a few seconds, he remained totally still, his nostrils and long snout quivering as he sniffed the chilly air. After some consideration, he trotted towards Mia, his claws tapping on the bare floor. She patted the bed. ‘Up, Trig! Up!’
The dragon jumped up on to the blanket beside her. She could see he was trembling, he was as scared as she was.
‘It’s all right, Trig. Don’t be afraid!’ she tried to reassure him. ‘You can sleep on the bed tonight.’ Her hand reached out to touch his leathery skin. ‘You’re cold, poor thing!’ she said, pulling the blanket over him. ‘This will warm you up.’ The small dragon stared at her as she patted him, his skin growing warmer under her touch as he stretched out beside her.
‘It’s all right, Trig!’ she said yawning. ‘We’re together, you and I, and I won’t let anyone harm you.’
When Mia woke the following morning, sunlight was stealing through the window. At first she didn’t dare open her eyes, hoping that the journey and the castle were just a bad dream. She thought hard about her own home trying to make it real. Finally, she opened her eyes and harsh daylight revealed her worst fears – Bella was standing at the foot of her bed, staring intently at her.
‘I hope you are refreshed, Mia. You have been asleep for such a long time. I’ve brought you some milk and some fresh bread, just out of the oven. Time to be up! The sun is high in
the sky and there is much work to be done.’
Mia sat up. With a heavy heart she realised that nothing had changed, she was in the same room and the same hopeless situation as the night before.
‘Eat your breakfast and then dress yourself,’ ordered Bella, ‘I’ve left some warm clothes there on the chair for you. Come downstairs when you are ready and bring that dragon with you. You’re spoiling him!’
Mia ate quickly. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was. She gave a piece of the crust to Trig who snapped at it greedily, his sharp, white teeth sending crumbs all over the place.
The young dragon then closed his eyes and snuggled up beside her, ready to doze off again. Mia stretched and moved him out of her way. She’d better get up quickly if she didn’t want to annoy Bella. A jug of water and a heavy washbowl stood on a small stand in the corner of the room. Half-filling it, she splashed water on her face and washed herself lightly. Trig watched her as she began to dress in the strange clothes left out for her. Her tracksuit had been taken away and the flying coat was gone. In their place was a heavy, dark green skirt that fell to her ankles, the material rough but warm, a cream linen shirt topped by a heavy, knitted over-vest of the same colour that laced up the front, and a pair of oatmeal-coloured stockings. But her own trainers were still there and she put them on, at least something was familiar. A bone-handled bristle brush and comb lay on the dark wood dressing-table and she pulled the brush through her long hair, which was full
of tangles from her flight through the wind. Finally dressed, she opened the door and Trig jumped off the bed to follow her.
‘Come on, Trig, we’d better go downstairs. We don’t want to make Bella angry with us!’
B
y now, Rory was frantic with worry. He shouted Mia’s name as he searched the garden and the road outside their house. He couldn’t understand why she would have left the house at this hour of the night. Just as he was despairing of ever finding his sister, instinct and a strange sense of foreboding led Rory next door to The Elms. There was no sign of Granny or her friends anywhere.
‘Mrs Blackwell! Mrs Blackwell!’ he called out, ringing at her doorbell. There was no reply. Maybe she was already asleep in bed?
He walked around the edge of the house, peering in through the windows like a burglar. All the doors were locked. The house was totally dark, and seemed deserted. Rory began to panic, but he tried to stay calm, he needed to think. Where could Mia be? And where was Granny?
The glasshouse was in darkness too, the moonshine
glittering on its panes. He noticed that the door was slightly ajar, so he pulled it open and stepped inside. Tall plants surrounded him, towering over his head. The air was full of a strange scent – lily, tomato plants, and something else, something he couldn’t identity. He walked across the boards in the darkness, trying to feel his way, bumping into things, bruising his shins and hips, as he searched for the light switch. Eventually, he found it. He blinked as the bare bulb lit up the blackness.
There was no trace of anything unusual, just the normal contents of any old glasshouse. He was about to leave when he noticed a curved piece of hard shell lying at the edge of a large ceramic urn. Curious, he lifted it up. It shimmered black and green and turquoise. As he looked at it, turning it over in his hands, he suddenly realised what it was – a claw, some kind of animal claw. He stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans, then tried the door into the drawing room. It was open.
Silently he slipped into the house. He gasped – the room was almost empty except for the huge couch, and all that was left in the hall was a bunch of flowers and some plants that Bella must have knocked on to the carpet. He stepped over them. The kitchen, the dining room, the bedrooms – it was the same everywhere. The house was almost bare, with no trace of the old woman, or his sister, anywhere.
Rory sat on the bottom step of the stairs, his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do, but somehow he had to find Mia. Had the old woman taken her, spirited her away? He couldn’t understand where Granny could have got to either,
just when he needed her most. Rory decided to look for Mia first, then try to find Granny Rose. The woods seemed the most likely hiding place – he’d search there.
Racing back home, he threw on his hooded sweatshirt and flung a few things into his backpack and loaded new batteries into his torch. He left a note for Granny to say he was looking for Mia in the woods, and grabbed a bar of chocolate, a packet of crisps and filled a bottle with water, just in case he got hungry.
Now, where was Jackie? It struck him that it was strange that she wasn’t barking or following him. He was crossing the front lawn, softly calling the dog’s name, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. A big, black shape stood on the grass in front of him. The menacing figure blocked his way, preventing him from climbing over the fence. It was a huge dog, a massive wolfhound-type, bigger than any dog he had ever seen before.
‘Get out of my way!’ Rory shouted, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Something about the hound, the way he looked at him, put Rory at his ease. Like a whisper echoing in his mind, he suddenly, inexplicably knew that this creature could help him. But his thoughts frightened him – it was all too strange.
‘Move!’ he shouted again, trying to scare it away.
The huge hound pricked up its ears and turned its massive square jaw and head towards him. Unperturbed, it stared at him. Rory walked nearer and nearer to the hound, astounded by his own bravery, till he was almost touching its shaggy side. Looking into the deep brown pools of its eyes, Rory seemed to
understand what it wanted. He knew that this huge hound did not intend to hurt or harm them. It had been sent to help him find Mia.
Aware that this was the craziest thing he’d done in his whole life. Rory took hold of the hound’s long coat and clambered awkwardly onto its strong, broad back. Wrapping his arms tightly around the shadow’s neck, twining his fingers through the thick grey-brown hair, he let the giant wolfhound take him away to search for his missing sister.
They began to move, the hound taking a massive leap and soaring over the garden fence. Rory clung on, his heart pounding beneath his ribs as the animal gathered speed and began to race through the narrow, overgrown paths of Glenkilty Wood. He ducked his head as branches and twigs scraped against him. Suddenly, he became aware that the ground seemed to be falling away beneath them and that the tall trees now danced under them. He felt dizzy for the first few minutes, and closed his eyes as the ground shifted giddily below. He hung on for dear life – and slowly got used to the strange sensation of flying.
Rory held on as tight as he could, trying to keep his balance and move with the sweeping glides of the hound as it swung over the village of Glenkilty. He could just about distinguish the spire of the church and the roof of the school. Higher and higher they went, leaving the village behind and flying into the swirling wind. He began to feel less and less afraid. He felt he could go to the ends of the earth now if he had to, to get Mia back. He could journey with this flying hound far, far
away.
All night long they flew, Rory was barely awake when the early morning sunlight began to fill the sky. Exhausted, he leant against the dog, listening to the rhythm of its breathing, his head nodding as they flew lower and lower over a changing landscape.