Island of Fog (Book 1) (11 page)

Astounded, he extended his wings as high as they would go. They moved exactly as he intended, and yet he had no idea how he was controlling them.
Same way you wiggle a toe
, he thought.
It just comes naturally.

With his wings spread high, they looked like triple-jointed skeletal arms with long thin fingers, between which stretched thin membranes of skin. Now he stood over twice the height of a man, nearly three times his normal short stature.

Panic surged through him again. Would he ever be human again? Was he stuck like this forever? He spun around in a circle, his breath coming in short, heavy pants. His tail thrashed, whipped around, and obliterated a few bushes.

But then he remembered Abigail’s wings. She could make them appear and disappear at will; they just folded up and merged with her flesh when she was done with them. Maybe Hal could change back any time he liked . . .

Abigail!

She had been stuck with quills, and was lying alone in the woods.

He launched himself into the bushes. Retracing his steps was easy; he had only to follow the flattened bushes and broken tree limbs. He had really left his mark! He tore back through the woods and came across something dark blue up ahead, hung on a bush.

His jeans were torn to shreds. So, too, were his underpants, socks and shirt. Even his running shoes were splayed open and squashed down into the dirt. This was where he’d changed. But where was Abigail?

As he moved on through the bushes, he began to tremble with anxiety. First Robbie had gone missing, and now Abigail. “Abi!” he yelled—but when a throaty roar erupted from his mouth he realized he was now incapable of human speech. That was going to complicate things further.

He slumped down and put his hands—his enormous clawed paws—over his face. What was he going to do? He couldn’t walk back home as a dragon, and if he tried to will himself back into human form, he’d be naked! He didn’t know which was worse, or which would draw the most startled exclamations from his parents.

He guessed being a dragon would be worse. But still . . .

What to do, what to do. Should he worry about Robbie and Abigail going missing, or that they had been eaten by the manticore, or that he himself was now a dragon, or that he might have to return home naked?

He groaned in despair.

A buzzing came to his ears, and he looked for the source. “Abi?” he called, rising to his feet. His voice came out as a sort of grumpy growl.

The buzzing increased, and Abigail appeared between the pines, hovering ten feet off the ground some distance away. She had removed her coat and was clasping it tight to her chest. Her wings appeared to be poking through the back of her shirt.

Hal rushed toward her. “You’re okay!”

Abigail squealed and buzzed away. Too late, Hal realized his mistake. He resolved to stand still and keep his big dragon trap shut, rather than rush toward the poor girl roaring like a monster.

After a few moments, Abigail reappeared, keeping a safe distance. She hovered and watched for a while, her head to one side. Hal kept still and tried to look as harmless as possible.

How does a dragon look harmless?

“Are you okay, Hal?”

Abigail’s words were quiet and trembling, but Hal understood them. Even though he was a dragon, and seemed able to speak only in rumbles and growls, he could hear and understand her as normal. He gave a nod.

Abigail seemed satisfied, and cautiously buzzed closer. She landed softly and her wings stilled. But Hal noted she kept them ready, just in case.

“Well,” she said, “you certainly showed your true colors. You scared me. And you scared the manticore too. Do you remember whacking it around the face? You sent it flying!”

Hal tried to chuckle, but his voice came out like a wheezing grumble.

Abigail came a little closer. “I got stuck by a couple of quills, but you got most of them. Even so I felt woozy and my vision was blurred. When you chased off after the manticore, I pulled the quills out and just lay there a while. The poison wore off. It was just meant to slow us down.”

“Yeah, while the manticore came at us with its stinger,” Hal said, remembering the nasty black point that oozed yellow venom.

Abigail raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t understand a word you just said, but I think you can understand me. Right?”

Hal nodded.

“Prove it. If you can understand me, swing your tail around.”

Hal lifted his tail and swished it through the air. It occurred to him that he did so without even trying, as if he had had a tail all his life.

“Cool,” Abigail murmured. She sighed, looking relieved. “Now we need to go find Robbie. He’s probably running around in circles wondering why he’s turned into a huge hairy ogre. We need to go find him, and then get both of you back into human shape. You can’t go home like that; your mom and dad would die of fright. Okay?”

Hal nodded, suddenly feeling as though he was acting in a school play, playing the part of a huge obedient dog.

Abigail looked him over for a moment, her eyes wide. Then she smiled, looking nervous. “Remind me never to tease you again.”

Abigail studied Hal’s clothes, lying in shreds and tatters in the dirt. She picked up the shirt and frowned. “I guess we could salvage this. You could wrap it round your waist after you change back.”

“Let’s get out of the woods first,” Hal said, wondering if dragons could blush. But of course his words came out as a series of grunts and growls, and he sighed with impatience, causing steam to blow from his flared nostrils.

He stomped off through the woods, heading back the way they’d entered. Abigail buzzed along behind, making occasional comments such as how his enormous reptilian bulk swayed as he walked, and how his tail whipped from side to side, flattening bushes. When she remarked on how he kept passing wind, Hal snorted with annoyance.

“I’m just saying,” Abigail said, laughing. She buzzed over his head and flew in reverse a few feet ahead. “Look, it’s not your fault. You’re just a dragon.”

Hal wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he let it slide.

Emerging from the woods into thick fog and a strong breeze, he continued the route back to the bikes, stomping the grass flat as he went. Abigail buzzed alongside, bobbing up and down and circling around as though she had too much pent-up energy.

“Why don’t you change behind those bushes,” Abigail said, landing on tiptoes and pointing to an untidy clump of brambles. “You can’t ride your bike home looking like that.”

Hal shuffled behind the bushes with mixed feelings. He wanted to be normal again, or more to the point he wanted to know that he
could
be normal again, but the idea of running around naked in the middle of nowhere didn’t appeal to him—especially with Abigail around. He turned in a tight circle behind the bush, trampling weeds and poison ivy while he fretted over his situation. His armored reptilian feet were impervious to the nettles, but he stomped them into the ground and kicked dirt over them just in case. He might be glad of the precaution when he turned back into his normal puny human self. That is,
if
he turned back.

“Finished?” Abigail called, sounding impatient. “You look like a giant dog, turning in circles like that.” She glanced over her shoulder and studied her delicate wings. Abruptly they shrank out of sight. “See,” she said, turning back to Hal, “that’s all you do. Just imagine yourself back to normal.”

Sure, sounds easy
, Hal thought.

He tried, but nothing happened. He imagined himself standing there, a normal human twelve-year-old boy with short, sandy hair. But no matter how much he concentrated, no matter how hard he pictured himself hiding behind the bush, still he felt no change. He began to panic. Was he stuck like this forever? What would his parents do with him? Turn him away? What if the other adults came after him, tried to run him off—or worse, what if they tried to slay him? Isn’t that what people normally did with dragons?

With a shudder, Hal closed his eyes tight and tried to clear his mind. He was being irrational. Miss Simone was expecting all the kids to change, wasn’t she? That meant the other adults were expecting it too . . . which, in turn, meant it wouldn’t come as a great surprise if he turned up on his doorstep as a twenty-foot dragon.

But still . . . when Thomas had changed into a manticore one day, had his parents chased him through the woods out of anger and fear, intent on running him off? Or had they been trying to calm him and bring him home? And when Thomas had fallen off the cliff into the water, and something had grabbed his foot and pulled him under—

“You look so stupid as a dragon,” Abigail said suddenly, her voice mocking. “Look at you, standing behind a bush with your stupid long tail poking out one end. And your horrible wings sticking up in the air. How ugly!”

Hal stared at her, taken aback.

“And you can’t even walk straight,” Abigail went on. “And your stupid fat belly jiggles, and you smell—”

Hurt and embarrassed, Hal shrunk lower, wishing he could make himself small enough to hide his humiliating reptile body behind the bushes. His skin crawled and he felt muscles twitch here and there. How could she say all those things? Just when he’d thought she was turning out to be quite a nice girl she had to go and ruin it by taunting him right at a traumatic moment in his life. He had a good mind to punch her in the face, never mind that she was a girl. Why had he let her tag along with him? He clenched his fists and yelled, “Shut up! You look pretty stupid yourself, with your . . . with your . . .”

He clapped a hand to his mouth. His words had come out clear and human, and not as the throaty roar of a dragon. Amazed and startled, he checked himself over carefully and found he was back to normal—two legs, two arms, pale skin, and no tail. And no clothes.

He peered over the bushes at Abigail. She stood at a safe distance with a smug look on her face.

“I thought that might do the trick,” she said. “Nothing like a good insult to make you wish you were someone else. Here’s your shirt—catch!”

Hal automatically reached out to catch the thrown shirt, and then realization dawned. That girl was too smart by half, but there was no doubt her insults had done the trick and gotten him back to normal.

Without his heavy reptilian armor he started to feel the cold air on his skin, and he stomped up and down and rubbed his arms. He stepped on a thorn and winced, and then remembered the trampled poison ivy and looked to see if he’d stepped on any. To his surprise he found a number of manticore quills lying in the flattened soil, which must have popped right out of his skin when he changed back. Sore spots on his arms, chest and legs reminded him where they had struck, but they seemed no worse than mild bee stings now. One side of his face felt hot from the oozing venom that had dripped from the manticore’s stinger.

Twigs cracked on the other side of the bushes, and Hal tensed. “Abi?”

“Ready yet?”

“No!”

Hal studied his tattered shirt. The arms were attached but ripped open lengthways from shoulder to cuff; still, it meant he could tie the shirt around his waist. He arranged it the best he could and, shivering with cold, stepped out from the bushes.

“You look ridiculous,” Abigail said, looking him up and down with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Think yourself lucky you only grow wings.”

Abigail laughed. “Take my coat. I can’t use it when I fly anyway.”

“It’s a girl’s coat,” Hal said with distaste. But as Abigail shrugged and turned away, he snatched it from her.

He slipped into the coat and hurried along with Abigail, ignoring the abrasive feel of the long grass as it caught between his toes. He could deal with that. However, just as he feared, the rocky terrain up ahead seemed impassable with bare feet. He stared in dismay at the loose stones littering the way. “I can’t walk over that,” he moaned. “I’ll have to turn into a dragon again.”

“Or,” Abigail said, “I could carry you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Without another word, Abigail spread her wings, buzzed into the air, and nipped around behind him. Hal suddenly found himself caught up tightly under the arms. Her cold cheek pressed against his ear. “Let’s see if this works.”

For a moment it didn’t seem like anything was working. Surely, Hal thought, he was far too heavy for her to carry. But after a moment his feet left the ground and he was carried safely over the sharp stones and rocks.

Buzzing through the air made quick work of the journey, and soon they left the rocky terrain behind and returned to the long grass. Bushes loomed out of the fog ahead.

“Thanks,” Hal murmured as Abigail set him down rather roughly.

“Welcome,” Abigail gasped. Her face was red, and she took a moment to catch her breath. “I guess faeries aren’t designed to carry passengers,” she said, rubbing her shoulders.

“You did good,” Hal said. He felt as though he wanted to pat her on the back or something, but instead stood by and waited until she had recovered. “The bikes are over that way somewhere,” he said, pointing.

The fog was so thick it took some time to find them. When they finally got their bearings and stumbled upon them, they gratefully delved into their backpacks for their lunch. Hal had a thick egg sandwich and an apple, but first he took a long swig from his bottle of water. Then he started into his sandwich as Abigail stared suspiciously at her own apple before taking a tentative bite.

Robbie’s bike appeared to be missing. So, too, was his backpack.

“Looks like he deserted us,” Abigail said while chewing. “That little creep! Trust him to run off and leave us behind.”

Hal knew Robbie better than that. “He didn’t desert us,” he said, after swallowing a full quarter of his sandwich in one go. “He’s probably just, you know, embarrassed that he has nothing to wear. At least I have your coat.”

“And a diaper,” Abigail added with a giggle.

Hal yelled into the fog. “Robbie! Where are you?”

“He probably went home,” Abigail said. “Let’s head back.”

They picked up their bikes, threw their backpacks across the saddles, and started walking. The gears ticked softly as Hal finished his sandwich and Abigail continued to munch on her apple.

“So Robbie’s an ogre,” he said at last. “You saw ogres in your book too?”

Abigail nodded. “Yeah. I guess that’s what he is. A huge, blundering, brainless ogre. It’s no wonder Robbie’s such a goof.”

Hal peered into the fog. He couldn’t see more than twenty paces in front. A chilly breeze whipped across the hill and his arms prickled with goose bumps.

Abigail threw her apple core away and climbed on her bike. “I’m cold. Let’s ride.” She gave Hal a sudden cheeky grin, sprouted her wings through the hole in the back of her shirt, and with a buzz of activity rose up off the saddle, still grasping the handlebars. Then she freewheeled off into the fog, propelled by the buzzing of her wings.

“Hey,” Hal complained, pedaling furiously to keep up. His bare feet hurt on the rough pedal treads. “Look, you go on ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you want your coat?”

“Keep it,” Abigail said. “Give it back another day. Bye!”

She disappeared into the gloom, and Hal wondered how she knew where she was headed. Maybe she didn’t.

Hal rode alone, suddenly exhausted. The transformation into a dragon had really taken it out of him, and now, thanks to the fog, he was pretty sure he was heading off course. It didn’t matter though; the main road ran right across the island from the docks on one side to the lighthouse on the other. As long as he found the road, he could just follow it home.

Sure enough he ended up back at the familiar road, although much farther along than he’d anticipated, right down the other end near the lighthouse. He turned and headed home, grateful for the paved surface after all that long grass.

Shivering with cold, and shattered nerves, he finally picked out a faint glow in the fog ahead. Then the dark, square shape of his home took form. The light came from the fireplace and oil lamp in the kitchen.

Hal got off his bike and wheeled it around to the side of the house. His dad would be out at the farm, but his mom would be in, unless she was visiting one of the other moms. He hurried to his bedroom window around the back. It was so miserable and dull outside that his room was in near-darkness. He slid the window up, hoisted himself onto the sill, and clambered into the room.

After he’d dressed and hunted out some more shoes, he climbed back out the window, got on his bike, and made a show of arriving noisily up the garden path as if he’d just got home from school. “I’m back!” he yelled, throwing his backpack down in the hallway and sauntering into the kitchen. But his mom wasn’t there.

“Goodness, Hal,” his mom called from the living room. “Shout a little louder, why don’t you?”

Hal found his mom on the sofa, looking through some old photographs that she kept in a shoebox. She frowned as he entered. “Why are you wearing those old shoes? What’s wrong with the sneakers you had on this morning?”

“They don’t fit anymore,” Hal said, throwing himself down in the armchair. “They were a bit tight, so I got rid of them.”

“So you took a spare pair to school?”

“What are those pictures of, Mom?”

“Don’t change the subject. So you took a spare pair to school?”

Hal nodded slowly, then shook his head. He was going to have to fib. “No, Robbie lent me these. Miss Simone let us out early and we went back to Robbie’s, and while I was there my feet started hurting so I borrowed some of his shoes.”

His mom put down the photos and Hal feared she was getting ready to quiz him further. But instead she asked after Miss Simone. “How did it go today?”

They spent the next half-hour discussing the enigmatic visitor. Hal explained in great detail all she’d told of Out There, and when he got to the part where three adults had gone across to the mainland to see if the virus was still present in the air, his mom looked sad and nodded slowly.

“A terrible thing,” she said, staring at the hardwood floor. A silence followed, and Hal listened to the fire crackle and spit. Finally his mom nodded again. “Simone had it all worked out. She found this island and wanted to buy the whole place, said she had unlimited funds . . . but it was decided the process would be too complicated and time-consuming even if she could get the rights. Too many questions asked by authorities. So, instead she bought all the properties on the island under various names.”

With a laugh, Hal’s mom shook her head and ran both hands through her hair.

“She offered the residents so much money that they couldn’t refuse. Well, most couldn’t, anyway, but some had lived here all their lives and couldn’t bring themselves to start up anywhere else, no matter how much money they were paid. But somehow Simone convinced them. I don’t know how on earth she did it, but one day she called a meeting and told us all that everything was set. ‘Six months,’ she told us. That was when everyone would be gone from the island and we could move in.

“Everything seemed fairly simple, then. There were ten couples involved in the project, including your father and I, and over the next few months we sold our own properties or gave notice to landlords, so we could move to the island. We quit our jobs. That was the beauty of it, you see—not only did we get to live on an island, with our pick of any property we wanted for free, but we were to be paid a modest salary too. For life. And we didn’t have to do a stitch of work.”