DarkIsle, page 7
A few seats further away was something that resembled a woman with long black hair knotted like a clutch of seaweed. She had piercing black eyes and scowled at Morag when she caught her looking. There was something strangely beautiful about her and normally Morag would not have gawped at all, but she couldn’t help herself—the woman’s skin was sea green and dripping with water.
“Morag!” Shona whispered, breaking Morag’s concentration. She jumped at the sound of her name and quickly looked round at the dragon.
“Stop staring at that kelpie, you’ll have her over here in a minute and then there’ll be trouble. They are notoriously bad-tempered creatures, they are. Have your eyes out in a minute, so they would,” warned the dragon.
“Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen one before,” she muttered, giving Shona a weak smile. She tried to look out the window, but the sight of the kelpie was too interesting and before long Morag found herself peering at the beautiful creature again.
The kelpie was still glaring at her, and bared her serrated teeth in a growl. Shocked, Morag quickly lowered her eyes and looked away. She didn’t want to irritate this water creature, as there was no knowing what she might do. Before now, Morag had had no idea such peculiar, dangerous people existed, and she decided it was probably safer to try and read some of the letters painted on the floor. Looking down at the boards, she saw that the curious letters had been worn away under their feet and soon she got bored of looking at her spot, so she searched for a more interesting piece of floor.
Just then, her attention was caught by the sight of a large white bear in a smart blue conductor’s uniform making his way down the carriage. His brass buttons shone as he walked slowly down the aisle. Over a shoulder he carried his metal ticket machine in a leather bag.
“Tickets from Irvine, please!” the polar bear shouted as he came closer.
Morag looked at the others with concern. They didn’t have any tickets. She began to feel a bit edgy and saw that Bertie was rummaging frantically in his bag. His face squirmed and frowned and grimaced as he searched for something that was proving to be elusive. Then, with a satisfied smile, he drew out a little leather pouch. He emptied it onto his outstretched wing and four large gold coins tumbled out onto his gray feathers just as the bear approached.
“Tickets, please!” the polar bear said sharply.
“Four tickets to Oban McCaig’s Tower via Glasgow Green Obelisk,” said Bertie, offering the coins.
The bear took them grumpily, slipped them into his pocket and pulled his ticket machine from its bag. He wound the handle and four pink tickets reeled off. He tore them from the strip and handed them to Bertie.
“Have a nice trip,” he growled before turning and lumbering back down the carriage.
Bertie held on to the tickets with one wing while Morag looked at them with curiosity. There was something strangely familiar about them.
“Can I have a look at those tickets?” she asked. The dodo handed them over.
They fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. She looked at them closely. Each cardboard ticket was small and pink and had destinations printed in little black letters. Morag looked round at her friends. They were deep in conversation and didn’t notice her pull a little red book from her housecoat pocket, open it and take out a tiny slip of pink cardboard from between its pages. She held the slip in one hand and the new tickets in the other. They were identical. She quickly put her old ticket back into her book and slipped it back into the safety of her pocket. The tickets are the same, she thought. How can that be?
She fixed her eyes on the floor, her mind racing with possibilities as she searched for an answer. She thought long and hard, but no sensible answer came. She could not think how a ticket for the magical Underground could have found its way into the possession of her parents. Her head began to hurt and she looked around her, searching for something else to think about.
As she did, something shiny caught her eye. Something gold and glittering lay under Shona’s seat, next to the point of her tail. Morag got up and knelt down. She put her hand under the chair and felt along the floor. Shona, who had been chatting to Bertie about the best way to roast asparagus, jumped in fright.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously. She lifted her claws as Morag crawled under the chair.
“Morag? MORAG!” But Morag was too busy reaching for the glimmering object. It was almost within her reach. She stretched as far as she could and . . .
“Got it!” she said, and emerged from under the seat with a large golden disc attached to a long chain. She held it up triumphantly as her friends stared at it in curiosity.
“What is it?” Aldiss asked, his little black eyes glittering in the light of the Full Moonstones.
“Some sort of necklace?” Morag mused aloud as she held it up for a better look.
It was indeed some sort of necklace. A medallion to be exact, and a very beautiful one at that. The edges were encrusted with glittering pink and yellow diamonds and in the center was a round flat disc etched with small, almost-not-there markings that could have been a nose, a mouth and two little eyes.
Morag squinted and angled it toward the light. She was sure she could make out an indistinct face. As she stared, one of the eyes seemed to wink. She pulled back in alarm. The others didn’t notice, and continued to speculate.
“I wonder how it got under there?” said Shona.
“Someone must have lost it,” said Aldiss.
“Who could have done that?” said Bertie, mesmerized by its beauty. “It looks awfully valuable.”
“It is!” cried a shrill voice from down the carriage. They all turned to see a thin woman wearing a long black velvet coat trimmed with fluffy red marabou feathers and shiny gold buttons striding up to them. “Ah, there he is! I’ve been looking for him everywhere. He must have slipped off when I wasn’t looking.”
“Him?” repeated the four friends in unison. They stared at the woman questioningly.
“Yes,” she said as she swept up to them and put out a slim hand. Morag pulled away before she could grab the medallion from her. The woman looked annoyed.
“Yes, him,” she said, nodding at it. “Henry,” she added, as if they ought to know who she meant.
“Who is Henry?” asked Bertie.
“This is Henry,” the woman said, and pointed to the medallion. Morag looked at it. Surely she didn’t mean . . .
“Yes, this!” the woman insisted, her voice becoming exasperated. “This is Hieronymus Algernon. I call him Henry. He’s perfectly house-trained, but has a habit of going missing, don’t you, Henry?”
Everyone turned to look at the medallion in Morag’s hand. It didn’t move and didn’t speak. It didn’t even wink, no matter how hard Morag stared at it this time. The woman took another step forward.
“And I’ll have him back now, thank you,” she said, holding out her hand expectantly.
Initially Morag was too stunned to react, but then she came to her senses. She held the medallion away from the woman.
“How do I know it’s yours?” she asked defiantly, staring at the woman’s startled face.
“Of course he’s mine, you silly girl,” she replied stiffly. “Who else would have him?”
“How dare you say that!” a tinny voice sounded from somewhere, no, not somewhere, but from Morag’s hand.
With a shriek of fright, she dropped it on the floor and it rolled back under Shona’s seat.
“Ouch!” the medallion cried out loudly. “Does everyone have to keep dropping me?”
“Oh, oh, my poor baby!” screeched the woman. She fell to her knees and groped under the seat. “Come here, Henry, come on, be a darling and don’t roll away from Mummy. Ouch! Henry! What have I said about biting?”
Morag stared in disbelief. Talking, biting jewelry doesn’t exist, does it? she wondered. After everything else that had happened today, she was no longer sure. She looked at Aldiss, who crossed his eyes and twirled his finger next to his ear to suggest he thought the woman was mad. Morag laughed out loud. The sound of her giggles caught the woman’s attention and she emerged from under the seat, lips pursed and the medallion dangling jauntily from her hand.
“And what are you laughing at?” she asked crossly as she smoothed her tousled hair with her free hand. “Eh?”
She looked straight at Morag, who suddenly felt embarrassed and shifted uncomfortably.
“Nothing,” the girl muttered, and stared at the floor.
“She was laughing at you, you stupid woman!” the medallion said crossly. “Now give me back to her! I’ve told you before I’m not staying with you. I’m going to make my own way in the world now—without you. I’m fed up being worn at your crummy séances and amateurish coven meetings. And as for that stupid cat of yours! If it lifts its leg on me one more time, I’m going to blast it into its ninth life. I’m bored, I’m underused and I quit! I want to see more of the world, not be stuck with a cat with a piddling problem and its silly-haired witch!”
Now it was the woman’s turn to look uncomfortable. Her white face turned crimson with embarrassment as she said, “You know quite well that Noodles is getting on in years and can’t help himself. And I don’t have silly hair. It’s all the rage in Paris!”
“When?” snapped the medallion. “When you lot lived in caves?”
The woman gasped. She gave the others a weak smile before turning on the medallion. She held it up to her face and gave it her best frown.
“Henry!” she shouted. “We will speak about this later. For now, you’re going back in your box where you’ll stay until I’ve got time to have words with you. Now thank the nice people for finding you.”
The medallion stayed sullenly quiet. She shook it violently, causing it to swing at Shona’s face, who pulled back just in time before it could hit her.
“I said, say thank you!” spat the woman, eyes bright with fury. In fact, Morag was horrified to see they had started to glow the color of lava. She took a step away. The woman shook the medallion more violently. It swung out of control and narrowly missed Aldiss and Bertie, who both yelped in surprise.
The medallion said nothing.
“Well, if that’s how you want it, that’s fine. You can just stay in my pocket and I’ll deal with you later.” The woman sniffed and stuffed the silent medallion into a large pocket before turning to the shocked foursome.
Composing herself into a more agreeable mood, she gave them each a little nod before saying: “Thank you so much for finding my Henry. I’m most grateful, and I’m terribly sorry about his rude behavior. You can be sure I will speak to him later. I promise you he will be severely reprimanded about this. Anyway, we must go, we’re getting off at the next stop.”
With a snippy “Thank you!” she spun about on the high heels of her boots and marched to the double doors of the carriage. As she waited for the train to pull into the next station, she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. Tap, tap, tap, it went. Tap, tap, tap.
Morag and her new friends stared at her openmouthed. They each felt like they had been hit by a hurricane at full force. Morag returned to her seat next to Aldiss.
“What do you make of that?” he whispered.
He looked back fearfully, afraid the dreadful woman was listening.
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life!” Morag said quietly.
The train slowed and from the carriage speaker system, a voice boomed out: “The train is now approaching Paisley Abbey Drains. The train is now approaching Paisley Abbey Drains.”
Now the woman stopped tapping her foot and straightened herself. The train stopped, the doors slid open and she stepped off without looking back.
The friends watched as, face serious and tight-lipped, she strode past their window and quickly disappeared up some stairs to the world above. They all sighed with relief.
“Thank goodness that strange woman has gone,” said Bertie. “I’m so relieved she’s not going as far as Glasgow Green, I don’t think I could have taken much more of her.”
“Tell me about it!” said a familiar tinny voice. Everyone turned toward Morag, for the voice had come from her direction. She looked as shocked and puzzled as her friends. She shrugged to say she didn’t know where it was coming from either.
“Magma has a warm heart, but she can talk for Scotland,” continued the voice. “After a while it got so wearing.”
“I think,” said Shona, pointing at Morag’s housecoat, “there ’s a voice coming from your pocket!”
Fearful that whatever was in there would bite her, Morag slid her hand into her pocket carefully. Her fingers touched something large, round and cold. Slowly she pulled it out by the chain.
“Hellooooo!” cried Henry theatrically. “Guess who?”
“Oh my goodness!” said Morag, and her free hand flew to her mouth in surprise. “How did you get in there?” She peered at him and saw he was clearly smiling. Quite smugly, as it happened.
“Is that how you normally greet a new friend?” said Henry. “Nice to see you all again! Oh, what a relief to be rescued from that awful woman!” He paused and stared expectantly at Morag.
She didn’t know what to do and looked to her friends for help, but they didn’t know what to do either.
“So,” continued Henry, “are you going to introduce me to yourself and your friends? You look like you might be going somewhere interesting. That’s why I chose you. Where are you going? You can tell me! Go on!”
Morag didn’t know what to say. She was so surprised she felt her tongue was frozen in her head.
“Well, you’ll make a change from that other one. I couldn’t get a word in,” said the medallion.
The carriage speaker system voice announced they had arrived at Renfrew Town Hall Back Door. Henry ignored the announcement and continued to talk.
“We’ll start with something simple. My name is Henry, and your name is . . . ?”
“Morag,” replied Morag.
“Good. There you go! How difficult was that?” he replied. “Turn me around so I can look at your friends while they’re introduced to me. Come on, chop-chop. Turn me around, girl.”
Morag held the medallion up by the chain, like a hypnotist, as her equally bemused friends introduced themselves to it one by one.
“So,” it said when everyone had finished. “Where are you going? I know, I know! Don’t tell me! You’re looking for something?” His tiny eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Am I right?”
“Well . . . ,” began Morag.
“Don’t tell me! Let me guess!” continued the medallion. “You’re going to Glasgow Green?”
“You’re right about that,” said Aldiss. He was shushed by Bertie, who glared at him.
“What?” asked the rat. “He would have seen where we got off the train!”
“No, it’s good to be discreet, isn’t it? So, I guess that you’re going to Glasgow Green to look for something?”
“No,” said Morag.
“Oh!” Henry sounded disappointed. “Then where are you really going?”
“We have to catch another train. We’re on some very important business,” she began, unable to take her eyes off him.
“Be careful, Morag!” Shona warned.
“But what that business is, is none of your business,” Bertie interrupted officiously as Henry opened his mouth to speak again.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the medallion. “I can tell that you’re going north and that you want to keep your whereabouts a secret.”
“You’re not coming,” preempted Bertie.
“What?” scoffed the medallion. “Not coming? Of course I am. I didn’t leave Magma to end up in a provincial Lost and Found office. I’m in search of adventure just like you, and I chose you because I know where you’re headed, so of course I’m coming!”
Bertie gave Henry his very best withering look and sighed.
“Listen,” he said. “Firstly, we didn’t ask you to join us—you invited yourself. Secondly, we don’t need anyone else to come with us, thank you very much. And thirdly, the Lost and Found office is exactly where you’re going. That way you can be safely reunited with your rightful owner, Miss, er . . . What’s-Her-Face!”
The medallion said nothing for a moment and looked at Bertie blankly. Then he grimaced and began to breathe very slowly and very loudly as if he were calming his temper, his little gold cheeks puffing in and out, in and out.
“Who made you captain?” he finally asked. “I’ve chosen you and that’s that. Besides, Magma wasn’t my owner. She was in a sense my vehicle. I needed her to get me here, but I was stuck with her for too long. No, dear feather face, you and your friends are my new friends and there’s nothing you can do about it!”
“Feather face?” spluttered Bertie. “Take that back, you nickel-plated novelty!”
“Gentlemen, focus!” It was Shona’s turn to speak. Bertie and the medallion looked round at the dragon. “Let’s not fight,” she continued. “Henry, my friend is right, we don’t need another—er—person on this trip, but thank you very much anyway.”
The medallion’s tiny face slid into melancholy.
“I would be an asset,” Henry said. “I can do things that might come in handy.”
Morag looked closely at the medallion. “What kind of things?” she asked suspiciously.
“I can make the person wearing me invisible,” he said. “I’m good at finding things and I can speak forty-two languages, including Klapp demon and Lurgy.”
“I have to admit it, that could be very useful,” said Shona thoughtfully. She looked round at her fellow travelers. “Morag, my dear, could you put Henry down while we discuss this? That’s okay, isn’t it, Henry?”
“Oh yes,” said Henry, suddenly very keen to be nice in the hope they would allow him to come.
So Morag laid the medallion on an empty seat several rows away and returned to her friends. Bertie was looking very cheesed off, Aldiss had a vacant look in his eyes as if he were daydreaming about whatever rats daydream of, but Shona got down to business straightaway as the four of them huddled together.
