Excerpt from THE WITCH TRADE
by Michael Molloy
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Chapter Nineteen: Journey into the Unknown
A few minutes later Sir Chadwick, Abby and Benbow were standing on Shaftesbury Avenue. Sir Chadwick hailed a taxi. "I'm only going east, buddy," the driver grunted as Sir Chadwick leaned down toward the cab window.
"Splendid," Sir Chadwick answered. "The East End is a complete mystery to me. Are you familiar with it, Abby?"
"This is my first time in London," she replied.
"What about you, Benbow, do you know the East End?"
Benbow shook his head.
Sir Chadwick turned back to the driver. "Where do you live cabbie?"
"Forty-six Paint Lane, Whitechapel."
"Take us there," said Sir Chadwick opening the door.
"It'll be extra for that bird," the taxi driver said grumpily, nodding toward Benbow.
"Money is no object," Sir Chadwick replied. "Now, please make haste,"
The taxi driver shrugged and pulled away into the traffic.
"Everyone close your eyes," Sir Chadwick instructed. "We mustn't know the route to where we are going."
With eyes tightly shut, they rattled through the streets of London until the taxi finally shuddered to a halt.
"Paint Lane," the cabbie announced.
They got out of the taxi into a narrow, deserted, cobbled road lined with terraced brick houses. It was raining gently and somewhere a clock was chiming the hour.
"Just as I imagined it," said Sir Chadwick, looking around him at the dismal scene. "It's a pity there's no fog."
"We haven't had fog around here since 1961," the cabbie snarled. He grabbed the money from Sir Chadwick's hand, strode over to enter number forty-six, and slammed the door behind him.
"What a disagreeable fellow," Sir Chadwick said. "I think I might bring some fog back from the Lost Land for him, if we have the time."
"What do we do now?" Abby asked.
"We must all close our eyes again and think of something we lost, long ago, and then wish that we had it back. Do you understand, Benbow?"
The great bird nodded.
"Now you two start thinking," said Sir Chadwick.
Abby remembered a wooden horse she had once owned. She thought so hard she could remember the little red wheels on the base.
"Remember harder," called out Sir Chadwick and his voice sounded far away.
Suddenly, Abby heard a rushing sound and felt as though she were being pulled through a long, narrow tube. When she put out her hands, the sides of the tube were as soft and smooth as velvet. Then there was a sudden popping sound and she felt firm ground beneath her feet once more.
"Welcome to the Lost Land," Sir Chadwick said. "You can open your eyes now."
From The Witch Trade. Copyright © by Michael Molloy.
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