Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

could.

Micky watched Miss Speal fall. Like a bird shot down with perfect aim, she fell backward, dead on the ground.

Miss Teriyaki saw what she had done and screamed. And then, full of fury, for she blamed Lily entirely, she began to chase her. With her poison-dart pipe clutched in her right hand and spare darts in the other, she leaped up the slope.

“Come on!” Lily cried. And she and Micky, Petula, and Canis bolted.

They ran on blindly, trying to keep together as they went. Leaves and wet branches whipped their faces, bushes caught them and the vines tripped them up, but still they ran. And behind, they heard Miss Teriyaki’s war cries as she too sprinted through the undergrowth. She was like some horrific hunter, intent on the kill. Micky and Lily had no doubt that they were her prey. They waited to feel the sharp stab of one of her darts, followed by the rush of poison in their blood. Micky turned to check how close behind she was.

It was then that he saw that Petula had stopped. Like a person standing on a road waiting for a car to run them over, she was standing waiting for Miss Teriyaki.

“Petula, come on!” Micky cried. But Petula didn’t budge. She sat still and expectantly, her velvety ears pricked up.

The horrid form of Miss Teriyaki came bursting out through the trees. Her face was pulled into ugly contortions, and she was growling like a wild animal. But still Petula didn’t move. And then, suddenly, Miss Teriyaki’s face changed.

She began to smile inanely, and then she stopped running. She dropped her blowpipe and fell on her knees with her mouth hanging open.

Petula’s hypnotic eyes stared up at hers, glowing and throbbing. The woman was completely at her mercy, trapped in the cage of Petula’s mesmerism.

“Stop, Lily!” Micky cried. “Look!”

Micky went over and picked up Petula and hugged her. “You are brilliant!” he said, brimming with admiration. He gave her soft fur a stroke. “Still sucking stones, I see.”

“Do you think she’s properly hypnotized?” Lily asked nervously, going up to the puppetlike version of Miss Teriyaki and prodding her.

“I think she is,” said Micky with a smile.

“Amazing,” barked Canis, sitting down by Petula’s side. “Did you do that?”

“Yes. I’ve done it before, but it was a risk. I didn’t know it was going to work,” said Petula with a smile.

“You are a brave dog,” Canis said with a nod.

“What are we going to do with her?” asked Lily, slumping down beside Micky.

The forest calm had now returned. A parrot squawked from a nearby tree and a couple of monkeys went back to foraging for sweet tree orchids. There was a rustling noise in the bushes to the left. A few guinea pigs—an orange, a black-and-white one, and a brown—came out from the cover and began to graze on the lush grass.

“Look, guinea pigs!”

“Yes, they have them up here,” said Micky. “I think the forest people actually eat them.”

“Really? I used to have a smooth-haired guinea pig as a pet,” Lily reminisced. Then she looked over at Miss Teriyaki, who sat on her haunches in front of them.

“You don’t suppose…”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Micky asked.

“I think I might be.”

“You do it,” Micky said. And so Lily began.

She looked hard into Miss Teriyaki’s mean face. “From now on, Miss Teriyaki, you will think you are a mountain guinea pig, and you will be happy being a mountain guinea pig….” The Japanese woman nodded. Then she got down on her hands and knees and squeaked a high-pitched squeak. “And…” Lily continued, taking her task very seriously, “you won’t be lonely, because there are lots of other guinea pigs in the forest that you will make friends with. And I lock this instruction in with…with the word ‘Lily.’”

Miss Teriyaki snuffled, then she wrinkled her nose. Seeing the other guinea pigs, she scuttled toward them on her hands and knees. They gave a yeep and moved away.

“Oh, they’ll get used to her,” Lily said.

“Amazing,” Canis said to Petula. “Now do you think you can find your friend Molly?”

Petula lifted her head to sense where Molly was. Sucking on the smooth blue stone that felt so watery and cool in her mouth, she began to concentrate. Above her there was a roll of thunder.

Thirty-one

Rain slapped down on the outside of the termite mound as though hundreds of tiny hands were patting it over and over and over. Molly moved closer to the squelchy queen termite. Behind her, Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton toyed with the weather stones. Molly tried to work out what to do, but it was difficult to concentrate, as to the left of her a large red termite with enormous mandibles was clicking its pincers together and tutting.

“You no invitey to feeeeeeed queen,” it niggled nastily. Molly tried to ignore the criticism, but again the termite complained, “You no feeder. You no foooood.”

“I bringeeee queen fooodee later,” Molly said, hoping this would shut the insect up.