The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom

The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom
Margaret Mahy

An exciting adventure from Margaret Mahy – blended with her trademark surreal humour and writing that makes you want to read it.Sophie Sapwood, daughter of the famous explorer, Bonniface Sapwood, discovers a whalebone pendant hidden at the back of her chest of drawers. At the same time, deep in the frozen wastes of the Antarctic, the ghost of Captain Cathcardo awakens from an ancient sleep, trapped in the Antarctic on his ship, The Riddle.His three cries for "Help" travel through the stratosphere to three different sets of ears – famous explorer Bonniface Sapwood, renowned naturalist Corona Wottley and oily villain Rancid Swarthy – descendant of Escher Black who was first mate on the Riddle. All three parties immediately organise trips to the Antarctic – all with the same goal in mind (solving the mystery of the Riddle) but each with very different intentions.

The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom

Margaret Mahy

Illustrated by Chris Mould

Contents

Cover (#u604847cf-3960-5341-9fa2-387b655d7029)

Title Page (#u4811f1e2-07c4-5476-8bef-68fc8eb71a1c)

1. At the Very Back of the Drawer (#u0d47c4d4-e76c-542a-80a0-f8d3baca0843)

2. A Strange Awakening (#uffdd3baf-2caf-5cd6-a1b4-51ca45fc85d5)

3. The First Listener (#u1373f52b-ee98-5997-8343-418230f4eba7)

4. The Second Cry for Help (#ua9a93b6a-281f-5bfe-9c08-2b34107ad4b8)

5. The Third Cry of Help (#u88e3c21f-69c8-5efd-baf9-e64744bc9295)

6. On the Trampoline (#u0c7793c5-82e5-59ee-a2fb-3e4f5702a5ea)

7. Mukluk Kissing (#u86a5cbee-84e8-5d0b-a5e8-62d7a2340c76)

8. Two Different Careers (#u4ee79f1b-b1e9-5ab7-bc7e-6279d8c36680)

9. The Treachery of a Housekeeper (#u684ae21d-5163-55f2-99fb-88e0b5927cbd)

10. A Startling Idea for a Devoted Father (#u283a5a44-bd15-511e-b7da-1d9e99785a96)

11. Unexpected Air Travel (#u78d7a3c8-e8cd-5df3-a55b-6a5d35ed84f3)

12. Wicked Plans in Black Planes (#litres_trial_promo)

13. Getting There (#litres_trial_promo)

14. A Skiddoo is Stolen (#litres_trial_promo)

15. Off and Away at Last (#litres_trial_promo)

16. A Ghost with Problems (#litres_trial_promo)

17. The End of the Road (#litres_trial_promo)

18. Up in the Air (#litres_trial_promo)

19. Ghostly Horror (#litres_trial_promo)

20. Penguins and Ghosts (#litres_trial_promo)

21. Whoops! (#litres_trial_promo)

22. Smotheration by Snow (#litres_trial_promo)

23. The Captain Waits (#litres_trial_promo)

24. Sophie Believes the Pendant (#litres_trial_promo)

25. Who Goes Next? (#litres_trial_promo)

26. The Riddle at Last (#litres_trial_promo)

27. Villains Can’t Trust Other Villains (#litres_trial_promo)

28. The Logbook at Last (#litres_trial_promo)

29. Antarctic Wishes (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER 1 At the Very Back of the Drawer (#ulink_12343cce-5904-5f8e-8aa8-a4111ee02209)

Suddenly, something clonked softly at the back of the empty drawer.

Sophie Sapwood, sitting in a sea of old photographs, stopped listening to her brothers who were outside, shouting and whistling as they bounced on the family trampoline. She tuned in to the back of the drawer instead.

She had been planning to go out to the trampoline herself, just to show both brothers the best way to turn somersaults in the air. After all, she had already found what she had been searching for – photographs of their dead mother which she had studied carefully. There was nothing left to look for. The drawer was completely empty.

But it wasn’t! It couldn’t be! Somewhere at the very back of the drawer, somewhere behind that first empty openness, something had clonked softly Sophie tugged at the drawer, trying to pull it right out, but it remained obstinately jammed halfway. Reaching in once more, her searching fingers spidered left, then spidered right. Nothing! But then, by flattening her arm, Sophie managed to reach just a little further and her fingertips brushed something smooth. Whatever it was was also icy cold, which was unexpected on such a warm morning. After all, here in New Zealand it was nearly midsummer – nearly Christmas.

The night before, Sophie had dreamed about her mother. She had woken and lain in bed for a few minutes without actually opening her eyes while she tried to work out if her mother had really looked like the mother in the dream. It had bothered Sophie to find that, though she could remember her mother’s voice, though she could remember the songs she had sung and her way of laughing, she was no longer sure about the colour of her hair, or the shape of her nose. That was why she had sneaked upstairs, all on her own, to sort through the bottom drawer in an old forgotten chest of drawers, boxed in by family junk at the back of the upstairs spare room. This drawer was crammed with photographs – some of Sophie’s mother, some of her big brother, Edward, and her little brother, Hotspur, and some of Sophie herself. Most of the photographs, however, showed icebergs, distant mountains and her father, the famous Antarctic explorer, Bonniface Sapwood, proudly posing beside sledges, flags and whole parties of penguins. There were even one or two photographs of the redheaded penguin-expert Corona Wottley, who had been part of an exploring expedition Bonniface had organised several years ago.

Sophie had patiently worked her way right through that jam-packed, higgelty-piggelty, mishmash of Antarctic photographs until she had entirely emptied the drawer… or at least, she thought she had. Yet here she was, touching this clicking, cold shape; this whatever-it-was which must have been left and lost for years and years. Scrabbling busily, she got a grip on it. Gently, she drew it out into the light of day.

Dangling from her dusty fingers was a yellowish-white pendant – a milky tear carved from a bone. Whalebone, perhaps, thought Sophie. It was threaded on a thin strip of leather rather like a long bootlace. The greenish light, filtering through the ivy that half-covered the upstairs window, seemed to love this pendant, stroking it, then sinking into it. Sophie loved it too – loved it so much that she immediately hung it around her neck and then, leaping across the room, stared at herself in the dusty mirror above the old dressing table.

How strange! The pendant had changed her. She had suddenly become a girl with a secret. She touched it wonderingly. It must have been shut up in the drawer for years and years, and during that time no one had worn it or warmed it or wanted it. It’s meant for me, thought Sophie. Even though Christmas was a whole five days away she felt that the house had given her a sort of early Christmas present. “It’s meant for me,” she repeated aloud, and nobody argued or contradicted her. However, just to be on the safe side, she slipped the pendant down under her T-shirt. For some reason she felt certain that, although it wanted to be worn, it also wanted to be hidden. Perhaps there was something it needed to hide from.