Read Online The Witch's Revenge by D.A. Nelson - Free Book Online Page B

every track that secretly ran under the human world led here. There were at least forty upper platforms and more downstairs, according to the signs that floated in midair. Although arrows pointed in various directions, none gave any indication of where there might be a photo booth. Morag scanned the platforms and the abandoned engines sitting there. None of the trainsmoved, no one got on or off and nothing stirred. The stillness gave her the shivers.
    Beside the platforms, the ticket offices, where bored ticket officers usually sat, were silent and empty. Above them, as black as a chalkboard on the first day of school, were the train information screens, but with no trains leaving or arriving, they were blank. Morag peered up to see if she could spot the Battuns, the little batlike creatures who drew and redrew the board, but even they had scattered.
    She glanced at the nearby market stalls, offering
Wand and Magic Crystal Repairs
and
Human Costumes
(consisting of a father, a mother and a child). Everyone must have fled with the first earth-tremor, tipping over one stall in their panic and scattering bottles of enchantments and rainbow ribbons across the floor. It was the only thing in the station affected by the chaos outside; the other stalls had remained upright and intact—and abandoned.
    â€œ
Where
are the photo booths?” Morag cried in exasperation. “Shouldn’t they be where everyone can see them?”
    â€œThey are here somewhere,” Shona assured her. “One of my volunteers used one only the other day.”
    A low rumbling began outside and got steadily louder.
    â€œListen,” said Morag. “What’s that?”
    â€œDo you think it’s another tremor?” asked Aldiss, watching the floor as if he expected it to split open.
    â€œIt sounds different this time,” said Bertie. “Like lots of people speaking at once.”
    They heard a cry of “Murder!” and then one of “Vengeance!” and then “Let’s get her!”
    â€œOh dear,” said Henry. “I think my spell’s just worn off.”
    Morag turned to Shona. “We can’t stay. They’ll get in here in no time. Can you remember where the Volunteer went?” she demanded. “Did he say?”
    Shona frowned. “I … uh … hold on till I think about it. He said he came here and …”
    â€œExcuse me!” squeaked Aldiss, tugging on Morag’s coat.
    â€œIn a minute, Aldiss. Shona’s trying to remember,” the girl said.
    Aldiss sighed, but would not be put off. “I said, excuse me!”
    â€œNot now!” snapped Morag, who was feeling very frightened. People were already rattling the station doors. The rat, face pursed in annoyance, got a better hold of Morag’s coat, hoisted himself up and scrambled up her arm. Before Morag could do anything about it, she found him sitting on her shoulder.
    â€œIt is over there!” he squeaked in her ear, tiny fingers pointing.
    He climbed down and scampered in the direction of the toilets, wedged between the ticket booths and the entrance. His little paws skittered across the marble, echoing and distorting off the vaulted ceiling, so that instead of it sounding like one rodent, it became the noise of hundreds. Morag and the others watched as he slid to a halt at a white box that was almost invisible against the paleness of the station’s walls.
    â€œIs
this
what you’re looking for?” he shouted as he threw back the curtain to reveal the inside of an ordinary-lookingphoto booth. Morag could see a blue plastic seat, a slot for money and even a camera.
    â€œWell done, Aldiss,” she said, running to join him, “and sorry I was so snappy.”
    â€œThat’s okay,” replied the rat.
    â€œWhen you’ve quite finished,” Henry groaned from around Morag’s neck, “perhaps we can get down to the business of rescuing