Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

“And Miss Speal,” Miss Hunroe continued, “the cake you made today was splendid.” Breathing out a huge sigh of relief, Miss Speal started tittering nervously and idiotically. “But that’s enough hysteria,” Miss Hunroe added sternly. Miss Speal was quiet.

Miss Hunroe went on. “Miss Oakkton and Miss Teriyaki…” The two women’s eyes widened as they awaited Miss Hunroe’s words. “You have been marvelous hunters! Miss Teriyaki, I am glad your leg is better, and I am impressed by your use of the poison arrow pipe, and Miss Oakkton, you throw knives with the accuracy of a circus performer! Without you two, we wouldn’t have had fresh meat. Thank you!” The two women in question nodded their heads as they accepted their praise and sniffed at the other woman in the circle.

“Miss Speal!” Miss Speal sat up like a child who’d just been caught smashing a window.

“Yes!”

“Well done, Miss Speal, for the lessons you have given me on weather morphing. Your personal experience, having owned that blue stone for so long, has been invaluable. But—”

“Yes, Miss Hunroe?” Miss Speal replied in a timid, spooky half whisper.

“But, I am afraid, Miss Speal, there is a problem.”

All eyes turned on Miss Speal, who sat on her bench looking as though a pack of tigers surrounded her. Miss Hunroe glanced at the cloudy sky, as if in despair, and then moved her gaze to the thin woman. In a tight, quiet voice she began.

“Everything was so nice, Miss Speal. So tell me this. Why, why oh why, did you go and spoil it? What did you think you were doing to that bird when you cooked it? Giving it a trip to hell and back?” Miss Speal was speechless. Miss Hunroe went on. “You ruined it. It was disgusting. Burned to a cinder and baked to a dry mess.”

“But Miss Hunroe,” Miss Speal whined in self-defense. “I followed the recipe exactly—”

“Nonsense!” Miss Hunroe interrupted. “It was quite the most disgusting meal I have ever eaten. When I think of all the trouble that Miss Oakkton and Miss Teriyaki went through to get it!”

Miss Speal sank into her bench as six hard eyes bore into her. She bowed her head and shook it from side to side.

“Forgive me. I will take more care next time, Miss Hunroe, I promise. I promise. I promise.”

Twenty

Molly, Micky, Petula, Lily, and Malcolm sat in Black’s Mercedes as he drove it to Northolt Air Base. There was very little traffic on the roads.

“These puddles are dangerous,” said Black as the car’s wheels cut through one, spraying the pavement and dousing the underside of the car. “They’re more like little ponds.”

“I think we’re traveling too light,” Micky complained. “Malcolm, are you sure we’ll be able to find places to stay? I mean, we’re heading for the Andes Mountains and for the jungle. I feel like we should have more than just our normal clothes and a parka.”

“Think of it as an adventure, Micky,” Malcolm replied. “I agree it would be nice to have properly packed suitcases with changes of underwear and socks, but there just wasn’t time. Besides, we can get everything there. We can use jeeps and guides and eco lodges.”

“Eco lodges?”

“They’re like tiny hotels, usually with huts for rooms, that don’t damage the jungle and the environment. They use solar power and collect their own water from the mountain rainfall. They compost their rubbish and have their own sewage systems.”

“With sawdust loos?” Molly suggested.

“That sort of thing,” Malcolm agreed. “Anyway, they are properly set up with snake-venom antidotes, medicine, and food and water. We really don’t need anything. The waterproofs you have on now are fine for this expedition. T-shirts, sweatshirts, and sneakers are good.”

Molly felt comforted by Malcolm’s military background. He had been on lots of expeditions, and he knew how to make shelters, how to collect drinking water from dew, how to forage from the wild, and how to hunt. So even if worst did come to worst, they’d survive. He spoke Spanish, too, so there wouldn’t be a language barrier in Quito, the large town they were flying into.

From Quito, the plan was to get a helicopter to the small high-altitude village near the start of the Coca River. Then they could begin their search for the spring and the Logan Stones—and Miss Hunroe and her horrible friends.

“Have you got any matches in the car?” Micky asked Black. “Probably do, since you like the odd cigar.” Black nodded and reached into the glove compartment as he drove. Finding a packet, he chucked them over his shoulder to Micky, who stuffed them into his parka pocket.

“Thanks.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Malcolm smiled. He loved a challenge, and he loved to work in a team. Discovering that Molly was not an alien had been a disappointment at first. But he had taken on this new mission with zeal. He was a good man and understood the prospect for the world if Miss Hunroe and her evil friends weren’t stopped. Full of gusto and determination, he was now fully focused on his new job.