‘Oh, shut yer cakehole and listen to your old auntie for once.’ Maude dug around in her pillowcase and pulled out a flowery china teacup and some tiny ear defenders. ‘Because you might think you know it all, but I know where you’ll find them.’ She handed me the ear defenders. ‘Now, child, cover Tyson’s ears, and whatever you do don’t let him see the cup.’
I rooted around in the pet carrier and pulled out Tyson. The ear defenders fell straight off. Which was hardly surprising given he was a teabag with a distinct lack of body parts. Ears, my bubblegum! I shoved the defenders and Tyson back into the bag and zipped it up. Maude wasn’t looking anyway. She was staring into the teacup.
‘Breaks my heart to do this in front of Tyson, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I should give tea up really, but I keep forgetting.’
‘Really, Maude, we don’t have time for this tomfoolery.’
‘Do as your aunt says and shut it.’ Mum threw Dad the evils big-style. ‘Are you forgetting why she carries the charmed eyeball in the first place?’
Maude thrust the cup towards Dad. ‘Look.’
‘Tea leaves.’ Dad folded his arms.
‘How extraordinary, given it’s a teacup.’
‘Shush.’ said Mum. ‘Have some respect for the old magic.’
‘Oh, don’t mind him,’ Maude said. ‘He’s never been able to see what’s staring him in the face, let alone the future.’ She shifted the cup towards Mum. ‘See the line?’
‘Yes,’ Mum said.
‘Well, that line’s a river. It’s bubbly, so that means it’s the Limonadi River.’
Dad tutted. He looked out of the window towards the stables and tutted again.
Mum’s forehead crinkled – she didn’t look convinced either – but she continued to listen to Maude.
‘And those two tea leaves there. See them – smaller than all the others? Well, they’re Bertie and the curly dog.’
‘Poppycock,’ Dad said. ‘I’m going to check on the knights. They should have left by now.’
‘Poppycock, yerself!’ Maude put her cup away and picked up the jam jar. She stared at the pulsating eyeball. ‘I’m telling you that boy is on his way to the Limonadi River. The tea leaves never lie!’
Mum waited while Great-aunt Maude made her way out of the study. I’d offered to carry Tyson back to the caravan for her, but Maude said she could manage just fine by herself, thank you very much.
‘She’s as stubborn as a minotaur,’ Mum said. ‘Come on, let’s go and find out what’s going on with the knights.’
She wrapped her dressing gown tight around her and, Doreen running along in front, head-butting the startled chickens, we made our way to the stables.
Dad was standing in the doorway with Sir Louseylot.
‘Sophia,’ he said. ‘A new peril strikes!’ He pointed at his black stallion, Calvin. The horse was standing as still a gargoyle, his huge tongue hanging limply from his mouth, black foam frothing from his nostrils.
Mum ran her hand down Calvin’s neck. ‘Have you sent for the Godfather?’
‘Someone mention me name?’ The Godfather waved at us from the rafters where he was hanging by his feet like a vampire. He swung forwards, spinning around in an elaborate somersault before landing next to Mum.
‘They’ve been charmed, they ’ave.’ He poked a grey mare called Ethel in the eye. She didn’t even blink. ‘Used the wart blossom, I reckon. Every ’orse in Bicotti’s down, according to Bob.’
‘Any fool can see it’s a charm,’ said Dad. ‘The question is, what are you going to do about it?’
The Godfather crossed his arms. ‘Nowt.’
‘What?’
‘I need violas and they’re outta season.’
‘Out of season!’
‘’Course, I could get some dried ones, but there’s no point—’
‘Now listen here,’ Dad said, curling his fists into tight balls. His face was so red I was worried his head might explode. Which would have been kind of cool but it wasn’t going to help the situation.
And for once I couldn’t blame Dad for being angry. Bertie and Jeb were in great danger and the Godfather was being super-awkward. Thankfully Mum knew how to work him.
‘Bertrand, dear,’ she said. ‘Let Nigel finish. After all, he’s the expert in these matters.’
The Godfather’s smile stretched from one gigantic ear to the other. He pulled down the zip on his jumpsuit just in case we’d missed the gold medallion.
‘As I was sayin’. There’s no point cause it’s a time-limited spell. By the time I get hold of the violas and soak them in newts’ wee, it’ll ’ave worn off. The knights could ’ave walked to the cornfields by then.’
‘Louseylot!’ Mum clicked her fingers. ‘You heard what Nigel said. Summon your knights and commence the search on foot. Odette is playing games with us and we have no option but to play along.’
Louseylot looked at Dad. ‘Keep to the plan,’ he said. ‘I’ll send the horses when they’re recovered.’
‘But – Aunt Maude.’ I tugged Mum’s sleeve.
‘I’m afraid your dad’s right, love. We can’t put all our faith in the hands of a split teabag.’ Mum glared at Sir Louseylot. ‘I said, go!’ She clutched her hand to her chest. ‘And be sure to spread word across the kingdom – the Black Sorceress has returned and she wants revenge.’
Like, no way, I’d been sent to my room again. Honestly, Rapunzel got out more than I did lately. She’d been lied to all her life too. I peeled off the tissue paper and put another chocolate lime in my mouth, but even my favourite sweets were not going to fix this. Bertie and Jeb were missing and it was all my fault . . .
Well, maybe not quite all my fault. I just didn’t understand why nobody had told me about Odette. Mum said Dad was embarrassed – she’d brought great shame on the family with her EVIL plans for multi-world domination – but what kind of an excuse was that? Sure, it was pretty cringetastic, but Bertie reads encyclopedias for pleasure and thinks homework’s the best thing since marshmallows. Like, deal with it, Dad.
There was a gust of wind and my window banged shut. I climbed up on the window seat to open it again, catching sight of Sir Louseylot and his knights clanking along in their heavy armour. Like, how slow. They hadn’t even reached the Black Forest yet. Without their horses, it was going to take them for ever to find Bertie and Jeb.
I chewed my thumb and looked out beyond the knights to the cornfields. Bertie would be OK. He was like Mr Sensible after all – which was extremely annoying when you wanted him to play catch-the-grumpy-fairy or climb trees with you – but was no doubt useful in a kidnap situation. He’d know to stay calm and not upset Odette. The knights would come to him . . . eventually.
Growling griffins, they were so slow. Every now and again they’d break into a clumsy trot, but then they’d have to stop and walk again because of their heavy armour. I could be so much quicker on my bike. And there was far less chance of Odette seeing me coming. I mean, you could probably hear that lot clunking in Camden. Odette was EVIL but she wasn’t stupid. What was needed was an element of surprise. Something unexpected. And no one expects a princess to be a knight in shining BMX gear and go kick her EVIL auntie’s butt! It was perfect!
I ran over to my closet. Battling lace and silk and taffeta, I fought my way through the wall of pink dresses to my BMX. I’d been worried the Godfather would confiscate it, but thankfully he’d been too busy trying to hunt Odette down. And with Mum having sent him to Camden, to make sure my EVIL auntie hadn’t taken Bertie and Jeb there, this was my chance to sneak my bike out and go and put things right.
Except it wasn’t.
Not with Lady Jemima Jeopardy standing outside my chambers. Good job I’d checked the corridor before I got changed into my BMX gear. In the name of the good goblin, how was I supposed to sneak my bike out now! Unless . . .
I ran back over to the window. Doreen was on her back legs, chewing the blackened bark on the tree-trunk bridge the serv
ants used as a shortcut across the moat. Brilliant, Do-Do. That was my way out of here. That, and the window.
I unhooked my rucksack from my bike and pulled out my jeans and T-shirt. Eyes fixed on the heavy gold cord used to tie back the curtains, I got changed. Pausing to put the chocolate limes in my pocket, I ripped the cord down from the iron hooks, knotted the pieces together and tied it to my BMX. Easy does it. I lifted my bike on to the stone sill where it wobbled half in and half out of the room.
Yikes. It was a long way down. The cord was nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. But if I could somehow swing my BMX to the side of the window, I could drop it into the bushes. Slowly I began to release the cord, biting my lip as the weight of the frame dragged it through my fingers and my bike clanged against the wall, the sound echoing around the gardens. Jumping jelly beans, I hope nobody heard.
Steadying myself against the window frame, I pulled back on the cord and looked around. There was no one there, but my bike was still a long way from the ground. I gulped – the drop seemed bigger every time I looked down. I shook my head. I couldn’t think about falling. Bertie and Jeb needed me. I might not be able to change the fact I’d let Odette back in the kingdom, but maybe if I found my brother and dog, I could make everything all right. I had to make everything all right.
Arms trembling, I swung my BMX towards the shrubs and let go of the cord. It landed on top of a large holly bush, wobbling there for a second before hitting the ground with a thud. You can do this, Ava, I told myself. I persuaded my leg out of the window. The other leg followed. Gripping the top of the window frame, I shuffled along the sill until I reached the thick ivy that grew up the castle wall. The vines were rough on my rope-burnt hands, but they made an awesome ladder. So long as I didn’t look down, I’d be fine.
And I was.
My bike was fine too. Dropping it in the bushes was a good move. There was a dent in the frame but nothing major. I untied the cord and gave my BMX a final check. Climbing on, I noticed something silver on the ground: my bike pump. I picked it up, and ran my finger over the P emblem, remembering how the Godfather had made such a fuss about keeping it with me all the time. I put it in my rucksack and climbed on to my bike. It was time to get my dog and brother back.
Yikes. I pulled back hard on the brakes and skidded to a stop. The tree-trunk bridge across the moat was much higher than I remembered and it was covered in patches of furry green mould which looked mega-slippy. I rested my chin on the handlebars and studied the giant log, wishing I’d gone dirt biking with Ant and Cleo. Maybe I should just forget it altogether . . .
Galloping unicorns, Ava. I kicked the ground in frustration. Stop being such a wimpy knickers.
The log was no big deal. I just had to get enough lift and hold my bike steady. Glancing back over my shoulder, I edged backwards, catching sight of Doreen running around in the flower beds. She was still wearing her teddy-bear pyjama top. She bleated and raced across the grass towards me. So much for slipping away quietly. I needed to get a shift on. I sped towards the tree.
Holding the pedals flat, I pulled back hard on my handlebars and lifted my front wheel on to the smooth bark. Eyes fixed in front of me, I shifted my weight to the front of the bike so the back wheel followed. I focused on the bushes straight ahead and stayed steady all the way across the giant log. Easy! Sorry, Doreen, but this BMX princess was out of here!
OK, so that made me sound like a show-off, but trust me, by the time I reached the centre of Amaretti, I didn’t feel so sure of things. It was totally freaky: no shoppers carrying baskets overloaded with griffin eggs and dragon cabbage, no red-faced mums and dads calling the kids in for cake-o’clock; and not a single crazy honey-fox barking at the wooden carts. Even the cloud aardvarks were hiding from Odette.
So why did it feel like I was being followed? My shoulders tense, I checked behind me again, scanning the empty doorways, but there was definitely nobody there. Above me, the wooden sign outside the tavern swung back and forth on its rusty hinges. Why was it moving when there was no wind? I wasn’t hanging around to find out. I pegged it down the cobbled street towards the edge of town.
Galloping unicorns, I had to pull myself together. I couldn’t allow myself to get spooked by every little thing. Don’t get distracted is what Ethan would say. Concentrate on the trick. But no matter how much I tried to keep my mind on the overgrown path, it kept wandering back to the scary stories about the Black Forest. Stories that would make you wet the bed. Sure, you haven’t wet the bed for like ever, but trust me, you would if you heard what happened to Billy Bumble.
And then there it was in front of me, a wall of trees so high it hurt my neck to look up at the canopy. Chewing my thumbnail, I peered through the ancient tree trunks at the cart track. Would my bike be OK on this sort of uneven trail? And what about all the terrible stories? Billy Bumble wasn’t the only child the Black Forest had stolen. But I couldn’t just leave Bertie to Odette. Especially when this was all my fault. It was me she’d followed back through the portal; it was me she should have taken. Ignoring the weird feeling in my tummy, I took a deep breath and pedalled forward. It would be fine, just fine, so long as I stuck to the cart tracks. I mean, a few months ago I couldn’t even ride a bike and now I was learning air tricks.
The forest lived up to its name. Shivering in the grey mist that wrapped itself around my ankles, I paused and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The trees were packed so closely together their giant roots grew above the ground. In the dim misty light, they looked like giant woody fingers trying to block my way. I wouldn’t let them.
I rode on, flinching at the touch of the dragon’s-beard growing above my head. It was everywhere, hanging from the branches like a cotton-wool veil. Think of nice things, I told myself, picking it out of my hair. Nice things like Jeb and profiteroles. It will be OK.
Maybe. But the forest wasn’t going to make this easy for me. The roots were slipperier than a sugar eel and the brambles that grew in between the trees pulled at my T-shirt and scratched my arms. How could this be the main route into the forest? There was no way a cart would make it through here. I must have taken a wrong turn.
I retraced my route along the path. But there was no other way to go. My cheeks burning with frustration, I turned round again, attacking the tree roots with everything I had. Tree roots, brambles, dragon’s-beard – by the good goblin, none of it was going to stop me.
I had to find Bertie and Jeb.
I was deep in the forest now. The trees were packed less tightly together and I was able to pick up speed. My mind wandered to Ethan. I couldn’t stand never seeing him again. Maybe, if I put things right, I’d be allowed one more trip to Camden . . . But for now, I had to concentrate on finding Bertie. Shredding like an Olympic multi-gold medallist, I put my head down and tuned in to the forest.
For the first time, I noticed birdsong. Beams of light broke through the canopy, warming my skin. They made the dewdrops sparkle like diamonds. They were pretty. So pretty. I followed the dancing lights further into the forest, a warm feeling in my tummy like I’d just drunk a hot chocolate. I was smiling so much my mouth hurt. There was music too. I hummed along. Lifting the front wheel of my bike, I did a wheelie. And a bunny hop. I was so happy I was practically glowing – I wanted to laugh and dance and hug someone.
The music grew louder. Through the trees, I could see a clearing, emerald-green grass dotted with flowers. I had to get to it . . . There was a high-pitched bleat accompanied by a shooting pain in my calf. Doreen! Her mane was standing up and her eyes were round and white. She released her pincer-like grip on my leg and bleated at the sky.
What was she doing here?
She bleated again – an ear-piercing cry somewhere between a goat and a strangled piglet. Really, Do-Do, what’s with the squealing . . . ?
And then it hit me, hard in the face, like a bewitched kipper: forest sprites. How could I have been so stupid?
‘How dare you,’ I said, wagging my f
inger at the dancing lights. ‘I am Princess Avariella Petulia Winifred Pandoro D’Allessandro of Biscotti, and by order of the Fairy Council, all fairy folk must obey my father’s command—’
‘Sweetheart.’ A sprite with bright blue eyes, who looked like a mini-version of the chiselled-featured movie stars in Kaye’s gossip magazines, burst from one of the lights. ‘Now don’t be like that, we’re just having a little fun.’
‘Do not call me sweetheart.’
‘Babe, then.’ The sprite flew closer. He smelt of chocolate blossom. ‘Look, how were we supposed to know you’re a princess when you’re dressed like a chimney sweep? A pretty girl like you deserves silk and velvet. Have you seen Cinderella’s new look? I could put you in touch with her stylist.’
‘Oh, please!’ I batted the sprite away with my hand. ‘Come on, Do-Do.’
Doreen bared her teeth at the sprite. She trotted to the overgrown path that led away from the hollow.
‘Your loss, sweetheart. We’re done with you anyway.’
‘What do you mean, done with me.’
‘Just a little distraction, darling, nothing too scary,’ said the sprite in a voice that now sounded just like Odette. ‘Leave the petrifying for the knights.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ He nodded behind me. ‘Think you’d better go check on your microcorn.’
‘Doreen!’ I kicked my pedal into position. ‘Here, now.’
But Doreen kept on running. She disappeared under the canopy of a giant sugar-star bush.
Leaves crunched underfoot and the bush rustled.
A high-pitched bleat echoed through the forest.
‘Doreen!’
But it wasn’t Doreen who came fighting her way out of the bushes.
Oh my curly candy, Mum was going to kill me. Herbert the Hungry may as well sharpen his knives right now because the ogre’s stewpot was definitely the way I was heading once she found out Ethan was here!
Princess BMX Page 8
