The Witch's Revenge (15 page)

Morag held her breath and willed the creatures to leave.

Sniff, sniff, sniff
.

Someone—or
something
—sniffed the air immediately above them. It was all Morag could do to stop herself from crying out in fright.

Sniff, sniff, snuffle
.

It got closer.
Sniff
 …

Morag desperately tried not to make a sound. Her blood surged through her body, creating a great rushing in her ears that she was sure the hunter could hear.

Sniff. Grunt
.

It was searching for something. Had it picked up her scent? She began to shake. She heard other feet walking, someone else talking, and the distraction caused whatever was sniffing to pause and growl at his companions. The sounds of movement stopped. The forest stopped. There was only silence.

The creature inhaled deeply and let out a satisfied snort, which confirmed Morag's greatest fear: it knew they were there. She closed her eyes as the thing climbed onto the dead tree, making it shudder. Four large gray hands gripped the edge of the hole just above her head as the creature leaned over to look inside. The rotten wood creaked and split and threatened to give way.

This is it
, Morag thought.
We've been discovered
.

“Tallow!” someone shouted as the creature pulled in closer. Bark crumbled in its hand. “Tallow!” said the other voice again. “Come on, we should be getting back to the castle. We're expected.”

“But they're here somewhere, I can smell them,” Tallow replied, his voice deep and hoarse. “Just give me a few more minutes to prize them out.”

“You always think you can smell humans, Tallow,” another creature said. “You are obsessed.”

“Obsessed with hunting them,” the one called Tallow replied with a sneer.

In her hiding place, Morag bit her lip in an effort not to scream.

“Brave hunters, return!” a gruff voice screeched from the direction of the castle. “Brave hunters, return!”

“I'm busy right now,” Tallow barked sullenly in response, like a scolded child.

One of the Girallons roared loudly, the sound resonating violently through the forest. “Tallow, leave it, we need to get back. You heard him. Come on,” one of the voices urged, sounding afraid.

“I can
get
it,” Tallow replied, stuffing two hands into the hollow tree and grabbing. Morag had to stop herself from gasping as one hand narrowly missed her face. “Just give me a moment.”

“
Now
, Tallow!” his companion growled. “He's calling us from the castle.”

Sure enough, the call came again, this time angry and threatening. There was an irritated sigh from Tallow and a shuffling sound as he shifted his weight. The tree rocked as he pulled himself upright and leapt back onto the path.

“You can hunt humans another day,” his fellow creature assured him, giving him a slap on the back. “For now, we must obey Kang and return to the castle.”

As they stomped away, Morag peeked out, keen to see what these things looked like. She saw three huge creatures loping off, like large gorillas except that they had gray fur and four muscular arms. They wore blue and silver tunics, and around their waists were thick leather belts hung with weapons. All three carried bows and arrows.

Morag shuddered as they disappeared into the gloom of the forest. She ducked back inside the log, where Chelsea was still curled up with her eyes closed tightly.

“It's safe,” Morag reassured her, “they're gone. You can come out now.”

As Morag stumbled back to the path, the others emerged from the undergrowth too, their faces tense with fear. Shona, Bertie and Aldiss hurried to Morag's side to make sure she had not been hurt. Shona hugged her tightly, crushing Morag against her great dragon chest. Morag could hear Shona's heart hammering.

“Thank goodness you're all right!” Shona cried.

“We thought you were done for,” squeaked Aldiss.

“So did I for a moment,” Morag replied, relief washing over her. “But at least I got a look at those things.”

“I've never seen a real live Girallon before,” said Bertie. “Only read about them in books. They're especially vicious.”

“We can't wait for them to come back,” said Chelsea. “We have to get going. We need to get into that castle before anything else happens.”

Chelsea left them hiding in the dark undergrowth near the edge of the forest. From behind a screen of ferns, they watched her walk up to the castle gates where she spoke to the guards. Whatever she said seemed to satisfy them, for they immediately stood to attention and let her pass. Then, without a backward glance, Chelsea slipped between the gates and was lost from sight.

They could do nothing more now but wait.

In her cramped position on the ground Morag was unbearably cold. She could no longer feel her feet, and her hands were aching from exposure to the wintery air. The wind had got up and was tugging at her coat with greedy
fingers, threatening to pierce the thick red fabric and expose her to the elements. Trembling, she lifted her frozen hands to her mouth and blew on them. The heat gave her momentary relief, but she knew that within seconds her fingers would be numb once more.
Hurry up, Chelsea
, she thought. She stared at the little side door half hidden in the failing light and willed it to open.

As the sun set and the afternoon drew its last gasp of the winter light, the forest grew dark and full of mysterious noises. Aldiss could not prevent himself from letting out a whimper. Morag picked him up and gave him a cuddle and together they watched for Chelsea. The narrow doorway looked about a head taller than Morag. She was confident she could get inside with Aldiss and Bertie, but worried about Shona.

“I should've realized it'd be too small for a dragon,” she whispered.

“I'll get in there with no bother,” the dragon assured them. “I'm quite flexible, you know.”

“Now's your chance to prove it.” Bertie snorted. “The door is opening.”

There was Chelsea peering out. She was holding up a storm lantern, which cast dark shadows across her face.

“Aldiss and I will go first,” Bertie said, taking charge. “Morag and Shona, you should wait until we're inside and then follow.”

They nodded.

“Are you ready, Aldiss?”

The little rat saluted smartly and squeaked that he was.

“See you inside,” Bertie told them before they could protest.

The dodo and the rat emerged cautiously from the shadows, searching for any signs of danger. Aldiss twitched his whiskers, Bertie fluffed his feathers, and both took a deep breath. A furtive check up at the castle ramparts confirmed the guards had not seen them. They scuttled across the wasteland between the woods and the castle. Aldiss, brown and camouflaged against the muddy ground, vanished almost at once. Morag did not see him again until his tiny black silhouette appeared in the doorway. Bertie's dull plumage also kept him hidden, except for one thing: his white tail bobbed like a beacon across the grass. Before long, he too was safe inside. Morag sighed with relief. “Our turn,” she said to the medallion inside her coat.

“Head down and as fast as you can,” he replied. “The guards won't be gone for long.”

Morag stuck her hand inside her coat pocket and felt for her book. It was still there. After a quick nod to Shona, Morag scrambled from the undergrowth and ran across the scrubland. Within seconds, she was through the door, hugging Bertie and Aldiss.

“Where's Shona?” Aldiss inquired.

“She's right behind me.”

Shona staggered up to the doorway and stuck her head inside. The dragon looked relieved that she had managed to cross the open area without being seen, but that look was soon wiped from her face as she realized she was never going to squeeze through the narrow doorframe.

“If I … er … just turn this way … and … um …,” she huffed, releasing little puffs of smoke from her nostrils as she became agitated. “Just give me a … minute,” she insisted, wriggling and twisting and squeezing.

Morag stopped her. “I think it would be best if you waited outside for us. You're too big, you'll never get through, and we can't risk you getting stuck. We won't be long. Give us a couple of hours. If we're not out by then, go and get help.”

“I'm sorry, Morag, I really wanted to help,” Shona said sorrowfully.

“You'll be helping us by staying hidden outside,” the girl replied, giving her a hug. “We'll see you soon. Now go and hide before someone sees you.”

With one last doleful look at her friends, Shona pulled herself out of the doorway and disappeared into the dark. Morag turned to the others.

“Let's go.”

As she said this, Chelsea's lantern was blown out by the draft, plunging them into complete darkness. Despite her best efforts with matches, she could not get it going again.

“Never mind,” said Morag, sounding braver than she was feeling. “We'll just have to feel our way along this corridor.”

They stumbled along the rocky floor of the unlit passage, unable to see where they were going. A sudden blaze of light made Morag start. A spotlight appeared on the wall. She glanced around and saw Bertie strapping on a miner's helmet. His little black eyes twinkled and she could have sworn that he winked at her.

“Where did you get …?” she began, and then remembered his satchel from which he could produce almost anything. “Oh, never mind,” she added. She barely reacted when a few moments later she found Aldiss wearing one too. The rat scampered on ahead, leading the way up the dark, dank corridor.

The passage seemed to have been cut from solid rock, for in every direction Aldiss and Bertie shone their torches they briefly highlighted identical stretches of roughly hewn stones, ceiling to floor. Morag thought it was as if someone had carved a warren of passageways into the very core of the island. As they continued she realized that the floor was steadily climbing.

“Is it much farther?” she asked Chelsea, who was walking up behind her.

“No. Here, let me pass, will you? I'll go in front to check no one's there when we get into the main part of the castle.”

She squeezed past Morag and walked ahead of the dodo and the rat. Through the beams of Aldiss's and Bertie's lamps, they watched her shadowy figure reach a set of stone steps that led to a wooden door.

“Turn off your lights,” she whispered. “If anyone is on the other side they'll see them straightaway.”

They did, and Bertie returned them to his satchel. Everyone's eyes had to adjust back to the darkness before Chelsea opened the door a crack and looked outside. They all held their breath.

Morag waited, her heart thumping and her mouth dry. Getting this far had seemed too easy and she was getting
worried that they could be caught at any moment. The corridor was dark and narrow, which was perfect for hiding, but if the inhabitants knew they were there, it was also the perfect trap. She watched as Chelsea slipped out. A dull light filtered into the corridor and they waited for a signal.

Moments went by and the friends whispered their worries to each other. What was taking Chelsea so long? Had she been caught? Morag was just about to sneak up to the doorway when the girl's face reappeared.

“It's all right,” she said in a loud whisper, “the coast is clear.”

One by one they filed into the castle corridor. Morag immediately recognized it as the one that ran alongside the Great Hall. The floor was paved with broad flagstones; the walls were lined with silks and hung with tapestries; every door leading off the corridor was inlaid with intricate carvings; fine candelabras and sconces hung from the ceiling. The whole corridor, illuminated by candles and oil torches, glowed and flickered as they passed down it.

“I think Montgomery is being held in the dungeon,” Chelsea whispered, leading them to a doorway. “It's down there.”

After a quick glance around, Morag pushed open the door and slipped inside, followed by Aldiss, Bertie and Chelsea.

As they went, nobody noticed the creature hiding in the shadows. As they sneaked down the stairwell into the dungeon below, nobody guessed he was following them. A skillful hunter, the creature steadily pursued his prey as
they tiptoed down the winding stairs into the bowels of the castle.

The spiral stairwell was lit by flickering torches stuck at intervals in the wall high above their heads. There was a strong smell of burning and something else, something fishy and rotten. Morag put it down to the fact that they were so near to the sea and that the tide was probably out, drying the seaweed on the beach. She dismissed it and continued to follow Chelsea.

“Is it much farther?” Aldiss whined as he scuttled down the stairs after the girls. “I don't like it down here.” The stone stairs were getting damper the farther they went and he was afraid they would eventually run into water. He didn't like getting any bit of him wet, especially his paws.