Molly Moon's Hypnotic Time Travel Adventure by Georgia Byng

Author:Georgia Byng [Byng, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-06-203406-9
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2005-10-20T07:00:00+00:00

From their high vantage point, Molly and Ojas heard Waqt’s walruslike roars but had no idea what had caused them. They nervously watched as he bent over by the baby Molly. Then they saw Zackya stepping gingerly out of the crowd. He wound his way through the leaping priests to Waqt’s side and beckoned him closer.

Molly could see Zackya pulling the silver gadget out of his pocket and showing it to Waqt. He seemed to be pleading. Waqt’s yellow eyes narrowed, and he sneered at his servant.

“What is it, Yackza? It better be important. Very important.”

Zackya stood on tiptoe to mumble in Waqt’s ear. “I might have expected as much from you, you incompetent fool,” Waqt growled furiously. “It’s not the machine that needs mending, it’s your brain. Why I bother with you, I don’t know.” Then, as if something inside him had snapped, he screamed, “I OUGHT TO PUT AN END TO YOU NOW, YOU USELESS EXCUSE OF A PERSON!” His shouting echoed around the courtyard and up into the heavy air. The drumming stopped. The priests bowed down until they were cloak-covered humps. The crowd was fearfully quiet. Four saber-bearing guards jumped to attention and the metal scraping as they unsheathed their swords filled the air. Zackya measured the intensity of the outburst and tried to gauge whether he was indeed about to be executed. Was this the end? Then Waqt turned away from him and began muttering. Zackya breathed a sigh of relief.

“She’s clever, this Molly Moon,” Waqt observed, talking to himself, stimulated by the idea of this young, brilliant hypnotist. “Clever enough to follow me by using her own memories probably. Ha! Perhaps she’ll provide some sport. I do so adore funting and hishing.” He stepped toward the hypnotized ten-, six-, and three-year-old Mollys and said to them, “From now on, you will forget everything that happens to you here in India, unless I tell you to remember.” He gave a sickly, throaty chuckle.

“You see,” he went on, tossing his words to Zackya behind him, “I can now play darrot and conkey with the escaped Molly Moon. If I want to let her know where I am, I can. I can let one of these three here remember something, as a clue for her. But if I want, I can stop them remembering and she won’t know where we are. Ha! Ha ha ha! She will just have to follow whatever clues I choose to leave her. Ah, what fun!”

Waqt had never played games when he was young. Now he was like a spoiled, monstrous child making up unfair rules to a game he intended to win.

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