A Most Magical Girl - Karen Foxlee Page 0,71

be assisted, and Annabel, laughing, helped her up.

Yes, they were the best friends she had ever had. Isabelle Rutherford seemed like a paper doll in comparison. Here were her true friends. Her heart soared in such a way that she had to put her hand over her chest to hold it in.

“To the magic shop,” said Annabel.

“To the magic shop,” repeated Hafwen. “To find my star.”

They went out into London Above. Out past the darkened ticket windows and the refreshment rooms. Out past the ladies’ cloak rooms and gentlemen’s cloak rooms, out through the great arch into the night. Annabel never knew it could feel so good to take deep breaths of foggy London night air. But she also felt frightened. The fog was thick and the gaslights shone weakly, with pale halos. There were strange sounds: the slow heartbeat of faraway horses’ hooves, a lone bell, muffled, as though it were deep underwater.

How much time until the moon reached its full height? It was already high in the sky, a pale smudge behind the fog.

Annabel held Hafwen’s hand. London was full of many unusual things, but stout, hairy Hafwen would probably still stand out. She took her little troll friend and hid her behind her skirts. There was another sound, a whispery sound, and a faint breeze made the fog swirl around them.

“It is Euston Station,” said Annabel nervously. “But I’m quite sure I don’t know the way from here.”

She imagined the magic shop and the Miss Vines waiting for her. She longed to see Miss Henrietta’s face when she showed her the wand.

“It’s that way,” said Kitty, leading them out to the road. “You and Hafwen will fly.”

The breeze grew stronger, a sudden wind now, blowing against their skirts and lifting the red cloak.

Hafwen didn’t like it. “What is that talking air?” she asked.

Annabel tried to smile at the little troll’s expression. “But why do you say only Hafwen and I?” she asked Kitty.

“Because I have done what I told the Miss Vines I would do, and more.”

“But, Kitty…,” whispered Annabel.

Kitty wanted sky. She wanted to walk all the way to Highgate and curl herself beneath a tree and wake with sunlight on her face. She wanted no more journey. No more trolls. No more wands. She didn’t want to look at the disappointed face of the Grey girl, who all her life had gotten exactly what she wanted.

“But, Kitty, you can’t mean that,” said Annabel. “After everything we’ve done.”

“Traitor,” said Hafwen.

“Shut your gob,” said Kitty.

“The Miss Vines would have you. They would—I know they would,” said Annabel. “Please say you will.”

Kitty was her friend. She’d never had a friend like Kitty. It seemed all wrong. How could she be the Valiant Defender of Good Magic without Kitty?

Kitty shook her head. In all her life she had never met a girl like Annabel Grey. She was bright as a star and good and brave.

“It is not my place,” Kitty said, but the wind grew louder still, and it whipped up her words and blew them away.

It came in a sudden rushing gust, blew up from the pavement, and sent rubbish flying. It worried their skirts and grabbed the wand from Annabel’s hand, and the broomstick too, and threw them out onto the road.

“Whatever is…,” Annabel began but did not finish.

The fog was quite blown apart before them, and out of it flew a terrible shape.

A monstrous shape.

Out of the fog a huge dark carriage drawn by six shadowy horses came. It made a sound like a thousand angry hornets. It flew straight toward them, so that there was not a moment to think. It rushed toward them, so that Annabel knew it would crush them, smash them, end them.

But it passed through her. The horses passed right through her, and as they did, she felt a great tugging sensation and she was lifted clean off her feet. She felt Hafwen’s hand slip from her own. She was yanked violently upward and into the thing and onto a hard seat, and then the carriage was lifting, soaring away from the ground.

“Kitty!” Annabel screamed as she went up. “Hafwen!”

“Annabel!” she heard Kitty shout before the most magical girl was taken by the shadowlings and carried away into the sky.

Mr. Angel stood on his rooftop platform and raised his Black Wand. He lifted the fog. He lifted it from tenements and tiny lanes. He lifted it from the grand mansion streets. He lifted it from the closes and circuses and cathedrals.