Island of Fog (Book 1) (27 page)

“Something like that,” Miss Simone said. “Now, who’s going to volunteer?”

Hal wasn’t quite sure how he got roped into the task of capturing Thomas the manticore, but somehow he found himself facing the mouth of the cave and his friends looking at him as if he had volunteered, which he hadn’t. He’d simply been the last one to refuse.

“Where’s Fenton?” Hal asked, suddenly irritated with the big boy. “Just when I could do with his help, he’s not around.”

“I must admit I’m a little worried about him,” Miss Simone said, her face half hidden in the darkness. The tall trees blocked out the moonlight, and the only illumination came from several hanging lanterns. Huge moths were beating against them over and over. “He seems to be stuck in his new body. Either that or he likes it so much he doesn’t
want
to change back.”

She nodded toward the tunnel. “Frankly, though, I’m more worried about Thomas. He’s been stuck in that manticore body since he was six, and I’m afraid the human part of his mind has long since given in to the prevailing presence of the manticore. Still, we can always
try
to reason with him.”

“Why haven’t you tried before?” Abigail asked, wandering over to the tunnel and peering inside. It was pitch black.

Miss Simone sighed. “We have, Abigail. When he fell off the cliff all those years ago, it was because he’d changed unexpectedly. Not just a few odd changes here and there, like a rash or strange tuft of hair. No, Thomas changed
completely
, in one single moment.”

Hal edged away from the cave entrance, welcoming the delay. He leaned against the hulking fog machine and hung onto Miss Simone’s every word. The terrible event unfolded in his mind . . .

Mrs. Patten had been right there when it happened, Miss Simone explained. Thomas had been playing in the backyard when he came across a groundhog. It snuffled around, minding its own business, not noticing the red-headed child who stood watching it. Thomas was so excited that he wanted to run after it, play games with it, maybe even catch it and take it home. But the groundhog scampered away into the bushes. Thomas took off after it, at first disappointed, then growing angry as his clothes caught on bushes and thorns grazed his arms.

Mrs. Patten went after him, calling him back to the yard. But he ignored her, and she grew more and more concerned as she struggled through the woods. Then she heard a wailing, and it chilled her to the bone. She followed the wails, and came upon her son’s clothes, ripped and torn, stamped into the mud. And standing over the garments was the manticore, all rippling muscle and claws, red fur and blue eyes, rows of needle-like teeth, and a terrifying segmented tail with a ball of quills on the end, from which protruded a vicious-looking shiny black point.

The manticore—
her little boy
—looked at her with shock and horror, and a single word escaped from its thin black lips: “Mom?”

Mrs. Patten lived to regret what she did next. She screamed.

The manticore’s eyes widened and tears welled up. It backed off. Then it turned and ran, plunging into the bushes and disappearing once more.

Immediately Mrs. Patten realized her mistake and took off after her son again, sobbing with regret, calling his name, trying to calm him. But then she heard another wail, this time one of sheer panic—and then there was silence.

Mrs. Patten emerged from the woods on the edge of the cliff, and her heart almost gave out as she realized what had happened. She dropped to the ground, crawled out to the crumbling edge, and peered over, but by then Thomas was gone.

Miss Simone let her words hang in the cool night air. Then, seeing that Emily was fighting back tears, she squeezed the girl’s shoulder and smiled ruefully. “You now know that Thomas didn’t hit the rocks when he fell, despite what you were told all those years ago. He didn’t drown either. You see, purely by coincidence—call it luck, if you like—I had come through the nearby underwater hole and was splashing around just below the cliff where Thomas fell. I heard the screaming and wailing from high above, and came to investigate. Imagine my surprise when a large red-furred beast came tumbling over the edge, bringing with it clumps of bushes and clods of dirt.”

“But what
happened
to him?” Hal asked, remembering what Thomas had said about being pulled under. Surely Miss Simone hadn’t tried to drown him?

“Well, he fell into the water and went under,” she went on. “I followed him down and there he was, a huge, impressive, but extremely dangerous floundering creature, sucking in water, huge bubbles rising up.”

“Didn’t you try to save him?” Lauren asked.

Miss Simone sighed. “Think about it, children. Imagine a drowning manticore—legs thrashing, claws everywhere, tail shooting off quills left, right and center, stinger jabbing.”

“Oh,” Hal said.

“Yes,” Miss Simone agreed. “I couldn’t get close to him without getting myself killed. He would have surfaced eventually, but he had dropped from such a great height that he was deep, deep underwater, and even if he made it to the surface, I doubted he could swim anyway. And there’s nothing to swim
to
, just a sheer rock face. So I made a decision, one that saved his life, but caused a lot of distress to his family and friends.”

“You grabbed his ankle and pulled him deeper into the water,” Hal finished, knowing this to be true, but perplexed as to how that helped matters.

Miss Simone looked surprised. “How on earth did you—? Well, yes, that’s exactly right. As I couldn’t get close enough to Thomas to wrap my arms around him and help him up to the surface, I grabbed one of his ankles and dragged him downwards. Thomas began kicking immediately and I was stuck with a few quills. I began to get drowsy. But I didn’t need to drag Thomas down very far, just a hundred feet or so.”

A hundred feet!
Hal couldn’t imagine swimming that far on the
surface
of the water, never mind
downward
.

“That’s where the hole was,” Miss Simone explained, seeing a number of blank faces. “I deposited Thomas through the hole, then followed him through.”

She looked across at the goblin, who was sitting there listening intently. He jumped guiltily when Miss Simone fixed her gaze on him, then relaxed when she asked him a simple question. “Do we have a large net here somewhere?”

The goblin scratched his head. “Um, not
here
. There’s a big ’un in the storage shed though. Want me to get it?”

“No, I’ll wander back myself and arrange a few things. I want to show the kids something anyway.”

To Hal’s relief, she led them away from the cave entrance and back to the path. Walking once more in single file along the meandering trail, ducking to avoid the lanterns, he wondered what time it was. It felt late, way past his normal bedtime, and yet the goblins seemed to be milling around as if the evening was young. He guessed it was around ten or eleven. No wonder he was exhausted.

“I don’t get it,” Robbie said loudly from behind him. “Miss Simone, you said the hole was right there at the foot of the cliffs where Thomas fell. But we followed you one day after school, and we saw you dive off the cliff
miles
outside Black Woods. Well, a good walk from where Thomas fell, anyway.”

“Well, of course,” Miss Simone said. “Do you think I’d be stupid enough to dive off the cliff where Thomas fell? Those rocks are deadly. It was a miracle Thomas happened to miss every one of them. No, I chose a much safer spot to return home where I could dive in, then swim along the coast to the hole. Much easier than struggling through the woods and risk bashing my head open on the rocks below, wouldn’t you agree?”

Robbie grunted something and fell silent.

The children followed Miss Simone back to the cluster of cottages in the forest. She led them between buildings, nodding her head at several goblins as they passed. The night was getting unbearably cold now, and the crackling campfires looked extremely inviting, especially with the smell of roasted nuts wafting through the air.

Miss Simone wasted no time. She led them to a brightly lit area at the center of the village, a circular patch of land enclosed by a wrought iron fence. There were five separate openings in the fence, each with stout gate posts but no actual gates. It seemed that all paths led to this place, and yet there was nothing to see except neatly cropped grass and a large, murky puddle.

Everyone stared, perplexed. “What is this place?” Hal asked at last. “A miniature park?”

“This is the third hole,” Miss Simone said. “It’s a curious one, this. It was easy the first time I went through it to your world. I just jumped in and ended up in the sea near your island. Being a mermaid, that’s just fine with me.” Her brow furrowed as she tried to form the words to explain. “But when I tried to come back through, it didn’t work. I approached it from
above
, you see, swimming
down
, and when I passed through, I nearly brained myself on solid ground, the bed of this puddle, you see? I just couldn’t seem to get through. After I while I figured out that I had to swim
up
, approaching it from underneath. Then it worked; my head popped out of this puddle and I was home again. It appears that certain holes have certain, uh,
rules
depending on location or position.”

Hal peered into the puddle and saw a strange blackness within, a swirling mass that seemed to have a life of its own.

“When I pulled Thomas down below the water under the cliff, I made sure to drag him all the way down below the level of the hole. Then I let go and he floated right up through it, and emerged from this puddle, coughing and spluttering. Of course it was a shock to the goblins when a manticore popped up out of the puddle. Instant panic, and that probably didn’t help matters—Thomas ran for the trees before anyone could do anything. I came through moments later, woozy from the poisoned quills. We organized search parties, but Thomas was long gone. I heard reports that he was seen the next morning, skulking away from a river that runs through the forest, but otherwise he disappeared and wasn’t seen again for months.”

Miss Simone walked off suddenly, and the children hurried to catch up. She led them to one of the campfires, and several goblins turned to face her as she approached. One of them tipped his helmet politely, and gestured toward a beaten up, blackened pan with hundreds of holes punched in the bottom. In the pan was a single layer of chestnuts, each with an X carved into the shell. They smelled delicious and were beginning to smoke.

But Miss Simone declined, and instead asked the goblin if he would bring her a net. “A large one,” she said. “Take it to the fog machine, if you don’t mind, and get some more help. We have a manticore to catch.”

Hal’s stomach turned over at the reminder. He followed in silence as Miss Simone led the way once more along the meandering forest trail. This time Robbie banged his head on a lantern and complained loudly.

“You have to realize that goblins are very short,” Miss Simone said, laughing. “And they have to light these things every night, and put them out again before turning in.”

As they approached the cave entrance, Hal asked Miss Simone about Mr. and Mrs. Patten, who had mourned the loss of their son and disappeared shortly afterwards.

“At first they truly believed he was dead,” Miss Simone agreed. “I guess it was a natural assumption. News spread fast, too. By the time I returned to tell them that Thomas was alive, everyone on the island was in tears. But as it turned out, it was for the best. It explained Thomas’s disappearance without revealing that he had turned into a monster. Of course I took the Pattens aside and explained the truth to them—and brought them through the hole to my world.”

“But we all thought he was dead!” Abigail said, suddenly angry. “How is that for the best?”

“He
is
dead,” Miss Simone said. “Or as good as dead anyway. His mind is not his own anymore. He’s a manticore with a few human memories. Perhaps if we’d been able to find him earlier, we might have helped him, but he completely disappeared. And trust me, one thing you don’t want to go hunting for is a manticore. What if you come across the wrong one? What if you come across a whole family of them?” She shuddered. “Perhaps there’s hope though. There’s
always
hope. That’s why we need to find Thomas while we have a chance, and bring him back to us. We need to talk to him, reason with him, see if there’s any hope of saving him.”

The sound of stamping feet filtered through the forest, and half a minute later a group of goblins marched into view—four of them, carrying a large, heavy net and a couple of long, sturdy poles. They dumped it all at Miss Simone’s feet and set about untangling it.

Miss Simone turned her gaze to Hal, and nodded. Hal again felt his stomach turn over.
This isn’t fair! Why can’t she send her goblin army through to capture the manticore?
“Does the virus affect goblins too?” he asked, somewhat sullenly.

“No,” she admitted, “but Hal, you’re a dragon. I’m not afraid for you. The poison quills may weaken you, but you can shake off the effect easily. Only the stinger is likely to be harmful, so be careful.”

She looked at the net on the ground. The goblins had laid it out in a large square and were now looping a rope through it.

“Besides,” Miss Simone said, “I don’t want you to
tackle
the manticore. Just provoke him. Bring him through the hole. We’ll capture him at this end.”

With a heavy heart, Hal took a breath and stepped up to the cave entrance. He heard footsteps behind him and a hand caught his elbow.

It was Abigail. “I’m coming with you,” she said.

Robbie stepped up too, and cleared his throat. “Me too. You could do with an ogre’s strength.”

Hal felt better already, but as he stared at Abigail, who still wore her strange green frock, he came to the conclusion that he didn’t want her to come with him. It was too dangerous. A few quills and she’d be lying on the ground unconscious, unable to defend herself or escape. And Hal would have enough to worry about without trying to protect her too.