The Witch's Revenge (13 page)

“Yes, but they were too strong for us. They quickly captured three of our men and we had to admit defeat. Adam was among them. Then they headed back toward the castle.”

“I'm so sorry,” said Morag, who knew what it was like to be imprisoned there. “What do you think has happened to them?”

“They're probably slaves now,” Ivy admitted. “You'd think they'd leave us alone. We produce all their food and need all our strong men because we have to do everything by hand … not like on the mainland.”

“You know about the mainland?” Morag gasped.

“Of course we do, dear,” Ivy replied. “Where else do you think we come from? None of us are from Murst originally. Esmeralda and I are from Glasgow, and the others are from all over the country.”

“And you'd never heard of the DarkIsle until you got here?” asked Shona.

“No. And if anyone had told me about it, I wouldn't have believed them.”

“How did you get here?” said Morag.

“We were kidnapped from our homes and brought here as slaves. Most of us have been on Murst for thirty-odd years—although five more arrived recently—and most of the children were born here.”

“Haven't you ever tried to escape?” asked Morag.

“Of course we have, but Murst is not like other islands. It's very difficult to leave if you don't know how,” she sobbed. “Besides, it's impossible to get hold of a boat here. We tried making one, but they found out and destroyed it
and
our village as a punishment. We spent the winter in tents until we could rebuild our homes. The people of Murst Castle are evil. All they care about is having slaves to do whatever they want, whenever they want.”

There was a silence as everyone chewed over what Ivy had just told them. Then Morag remembered what Ivy had said previously.

“When you found us you mentioned something about an Ancient One.…”

“I saw it in the tea leaves,” the old woman explained. “The Ancient One will return soon to save us all.”

“Tea leaves?” Aldiss squeaked. “You've got tea here?”

“Tiny portions are included as part of our rations from the castle. It comes in by pirate ships.”

“But,” the rodent continued, “how can tea leaves tell you anything?”

“I read them,” Ivy responded proudly. “I'm a seer. I can look into the future and tell you what might happen. The tea leaves told me the Ancient One will free us from this horrible place forever.”

“And did the tea leaves describe this Ancient One?”
asked Bertie, fanning his tail feathers in expectation. “Did they mention his wonderful plumage or impressive beak?”

“No,” said Ivy. Bertie scowled. “First of all, I saw that the Ancient One would have a strong heart and a kind manner.…”

Bertie and Aldiss immediately looked at Morag.

“And then I saw the Ancient One's long tail.…”

“I knew it!” squealed Aldiss, jumping to his feet and whipping his tail from side to side. “It's me, isn't it?”

“I'm afraid not,” said Ivy. Aldiss dropped his tail to the floor with a disappointed thud. “And she would be green.…”

“It's Shona,” whispered Morag. “You're the Ancient One.”

Shona, sitting nearby, snorted skeptically, sending up little bellows of dark smoke. “Tea leaves!” she scolded. “No one can predict the future, no matter what the method. It's all a load of Swamp Sprouts.”

Morag decided it would be best to change the subject. “We'd like to thank you for your hospitality,” she began.

“You're welcome,” Ivy replied, moving toward the doorway.

“It's been wonderful to meet you and the other villagers,” Morag continued. “Likewise.”

“But,” the girl said, “we need to get to the castle. You were right about us not being shipwrecked. We came here to get our friend back. He's a prisoner and we must get to him before something terrible happens.”

Ivy smiled. “But I can't let you go, my dear,” she said, her hand gripping the door handle. “Your dragon
has
to save us. And I can't let you go off into the woods by yourselves. You might be killed by the wolves or the other creatures that live there.” She gave an involuntary shudder. “No, I think it is best that you all stay here until we decide what the Ancient One has to do next.”

Before the last word left her lips, Shona, as quick as lightning, got to her feet and growled at her. “You will not tell us what to do!” she snarled, making angry puffs of smoke pour from her nostrils. “We're leaving and that's that.”

Morag quickly placed a hand on Shona's shoulder in a vain attempt to calm her.

“What the Ancient One means,” she told the terrified Ivy, “is that she's probably
destined
to go to the castle. After all, she's no good to you here, doing nothing, is she?”

“Um … no, I suppose not,” the woman whispered.

“And perhaps you are meant to help us get there?” Morag continued, pleased with her train of thought.

“I—I suppose we could do something for you,” Ivy said slowly. “Stay here a minute while I consult the other elders.”

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.”

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.