Page 61 of Box of Frogs
I crossed my arms. ‘You know,’ I said in an overly sarcastic voice, ‘I really can’t imagine for the life of me why I left you. Not at all. I mean, it’ssomuch fun having you ordering me around all the time, or withholding information just because it suits you. I just love snapping to your every order and fulfilling your every whim.’
He swung his leg off the bike and stepped towards me, until our toes were almost touching. ‘Believe me, Maddy,’ he said, ‘if you were fulfilling my every whim then we would not be having a conversation.’
I matched his intense gaze. ‘Then, tell me, Morgan. What would I be doing instead?’
He shook his head, exasperated, then returned to the bike and turned the key. Yet again, the engine roared into life. ‘I’m already visualising duct tape over your mouth,’ he muttered. Apparently he thought I couldn’t hear him.
I shrugged. ‘Sure, if that floats your boat. You can tie me up too, if you wish. Handcuffs are fine.’ I held out my wrists. ‘Then you can have your wicked way with me.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
Somehow I didn’t think it was a sexy game he was considering; it was probably a cold, damp prison cell and gloopy porridge three times a day. Giving up on trying to flirt, I pushed my hair out of my eyes. ‘Is it going to take long?’ I enquired. ‘This little visit of yours?’
‘No. It might even be worth it.’ He bared his teeth in a crooked smile. The contents of my stomach did an annoying little flip-flop.
‘Fine,’ I muttered. I got back on the bike. ‘Onwards, good knight!’
‘I can get hold of duct tape if I really need it, Maddy.’
Yeah, yeah. I sighed. This would be a far more entertaining chat if I didn’t keep thinking of Julie, who was probably wrapped in duct tape at this very moment. Whatever Morgan was up to, I sincerely hoped it was going to lead to something – for her sake.
***
If I’d thought that Rubus’s abandoned hideout was depressing, I hadn’t been using my imagination enough. Morgan stopped in front of a ramshackle hut near the canal and wasted no time in striding towards it.
I gaped after him. ‘You can’t seriously tell me someone’s inside there.’
‘Someone’s inside there.’
‘Well, you can’t go in. You won’t fit.’
‘I’m going in,’ he flung out over his shoulder. ‘I strongly suggest you come with me.’
I stared at the hut. ‘Into that? A strong gust of wind will blow it over. Not to mention it’s the size of a broom cupboard.’
‘Well then, you should be happy. It means it’ll be a short visit.’ Morgan pulled open the door and disappeared inside.
For a moment, I didn’t move. This had to be some sort of joke; the hut couldn’t be more than two feet square. I was going to waltz inside and Morgan was going to piss himself laughing that I’d been so gullible. When he didn’t re-emerge after what seemed like a long minute, however, I stomped in after in. There’d probably be more cobwebs inside, I thought gloomily. And massive spiders.
I slipped in the door. The sight that greeted my eyes wasn’t anything like I’d expected. I stared round, awestruck, then immediately turned on my heel and left the same way I’d entered. I looked at the exterior of the hut. Nope: it was definitely just a hut. Then I went back inside again. This really didn’t make any sense.
‘Get a move on, Maddy,’ Morgan said, sounding amused. He was standing at least twenty feet away and leaning against a highly polished mahogany bar.
‘Is this some weird faery place?’ I asked, without moving an inch.
There was a loud snort from behind the bar then a young woman stood up and flicked a derisive look in my direction. She had spiky blonde hair that shot out in all directions and, if I wasn’t mistaken, was tinged with blue at the tips. A pair of round glasses was perched on her nose, giving her green eyes an owlish aspect, while the stained denim dungarees she was wearing suggested she had a nursery of small children hiding at her feet.
‘Weird faery place? Seriously?’ She glanced at Morgan. ‘Has this idiot been asleep for the past ten years?’ Then she stared back at me. ‘Wait. I know who you are. You’re …’
‘Madrona,’ Morgan said. The woman flinched visibly, her skin paling. ‘She’s got amnesia,’ he added as if to calm her.
‘You broughtherhere?’ The strange faery woman pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘Do you have any idea how much trouble it is to relocate myself whenever one of them finds out where I am?’
‘Arty, she doesn’t remember Rubus. She doesn’t remember working for him and she doesn’t remember what she’s done in the past.’
‘Arty?’ I interrupted. ‘Is that name because you’ve been playing around with finger paints?’ I pointed at the multi-coloured daubs all over her dungarees.
Arty’s face twisted. ‘It’s Artemesia to you,’ she said coldly. She turned back to Morgan and started berating him for daring to bring me here. Whatever. I zoned her out and paid more attention to my surroundings. The room really was quite extraordinary.
