I screwed up my eyes, the bright sunshine making them water, and screeched to a stop. We’d made it through the forest but there was no time to rest. The more I’d seen of Odette’s silly games, the more worried I was about Bertie and Jeb. ‘Here, Doreen,’ I called, wrinkling my nose. It smelt like someone had lit a bonfire.
Like, oh my curly candy, major shock or what! Doreen actually did as she was told for once. She stopped nibbling Ethan’s shoelace and trotted over. I picked her up and put her in my rucksack. I wasn’t taking any chances. Not around Raspberry Ravine – the deep canyon that separated the forest from the cornfields.
‘That’s some drop,’ Ethan said. ‘Whoa, what are those big black things?’
‘River griffins.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t worry, they’re harmless.’ Unless they haven’t eaten for a while. ‘Come on.’
Ethan stared at the griffins that were nesting on a ledge on the other side of the narrow ravine. ‘Are you sure? They look like pumas with wings.’
‘I mean it, Ethan, hurry up!’
He shook his head and followed me along the path that trailed the curve of the gorge to the bridge.
‘No!’ I threw my bike to the ground and stared at the scorched beams where the crossing should have been. Papery cinders flittered in the breeze around me. So near, yet so far. I looked longingly across the canyon.
‘It’s still warm,’ Ethan said, running his fingers over the blackened wood. ‘Is this the only crossing?’
‘The only one anywhere near the cornfields.’
Doreen bleated and kicked at the inside of my rucksack.
‘I know, Do-Do,’ I said. ‘This is so not good.’ In fact it was about as peachy as finding a toenail in your custard. There was another bridge to the north, but I had no idea how long it would take to get there. Maybe, if Dad had let me join the Scouts, I might have been able to work it out. But a princess is not expected to traipse around in the forest.
I picked up a stone and cupped it in my hand. Edging closer to the ravine, I dropped it over the side. It rocketed towards the ground, disappearing from view long before it hit the bottom. There was like no chance of scrambling down there. I shaded my eyes with my hands and looked over to the other side of the ravine. ‘We’re going to have to jump it.’
‘You’re joking, right? You’d have to be off your rocker.’
I rolled my eyes. Sure, it was risky. The ravine was so high even the griffins had altitude sickness, but it was narrow, and ever since my major fail in the bowl, I’d been working hard on catching air. OK, I hadn’t completely cracked it yet, but I stayed on my bike most of the time, and I’ve always been better under pressure.
‘It’s not that far, admittedly.’ Ethan crouched down and rubbed the scorched ground. ‘But it’s all in the run-up, you see.’
The wind whistled, sending a cloud of dust towards me. There was a sickly smell in the air. Beyond the caves, on the other side of the ravine, I saw a purple cloud. There was only one thing that made a sherbet cloud like that, a sherbet dragon. So, Tufty was right about Alun being at the cornfields, and the ruined bridge suggested he was probably right about Odette too.
‘Sorry, Do-Do,’ I said, fastening the lid of my bag. ‘But this is our best shot at finding Bertie.’
‘And there’s no room for error here,’ Ethan continued. ‘I mean, come on, if you fall you die.’
I climbed on my bike and rode back to the edge of the trees. ‘Best not fall then.’
Speed, it was all about speed. That’s what Ethan had said when we were practising in the park. Keep your bike straight, look ahead, and shred like your life depends on it. I never thought my life would depend on it.
I took a deep breath and, eyes fixed on the caves opposite, rode towards the black slit of the ravine. Just before I hit the edge, I stopped pedalling and stood up straight. Holding my pedals level, I pulled back on my handlebars and shifted my weight forward then back. My bike lifted off the ground, and I flew through the air towards the opposite bank.
I hit the ground with a heavy thud. My wheel slipped and I fell sideways. Winded, I lay there on the cold ground, pain shooting up my hip, but then I remembered Doreen. No! I pushed myself up on to my knees and, ignoring the blood dripping from my elbow, pulled my rucksack off. My hands shook as I undid the lid – why wasn’t she moving? Forcing back tears, I opened my bag.
A pointy ear twitched.
Brown eyes stared up at me from under long lashes.
And a purple tongue tickled my hand.
Thank the good goblin – she was OK!
I lifted Doreen out of the bag and hugged her tight. On the other side of the ravine Ethan was about to jump. I knew he’d follow me. He was too competitive not to, even if there was a chance he’d plunge to his death and be eaten by river griffins.
But the river griffins were going to have to look elsewhere for a meal today. Ethan made the most awesome jump ever, landing without even a wobble.
‘Now quit with the faffing,’ I said as we bumped fists. ‘We’ve a prince to save.’
Spooktastic or what. I’d never been to the cornfields and right now, I figured I never wanted to go there again. It was the creepiest place ever. The giant maize danced in the wind, like it was alive, its rustling making the bad feeling in my tummy even worse.
‘What the womble—’ Ethan pointed at the sooty path that cut the field in two.
My throat closed. A perfectly straight line of charred stubble, it was so neat and even it had to have been made by magic. I followed it anyway, Ethan muttering nervously to himself, Doreen trailing a few paces behind, her nostrils flaring.
The path led to a scorched clearing. I grabbed Doreen’s teddy-bear pyjama top and stopped. The smell of burnt earth made my nose tingle. But there was something else in the air too? Something sweet. Sherbet.
Sure enough, Alun was on the other side of the clearing. He bellowed and a cloud of purple dust rose from his nostrils. He was every bit as magnificent as the pictures I’d seen in Bertie’s natural history book.
Ethan grabbed my arm. ‘Tell me that’s not real.’
‘Chill, Ethan. It’s just Alun.’
‘Alun.’
‘Yes, Alun. Hush, you’ll scare him.’
‘Scare him? Have you lost it altogether?’
‘It’s fine, Ethan – so long as his sherbet hasn’t gone bad.’
Then things could get a little more interesting – if you consider melting flesh and boiling blood to be interesting. Why had my EVIL auntie brought him here? Was this another one of her games?
Alun snorted again, louder this time. I took a step forward and stopped. There was a definite fizz in the air. The alarm bells were ringing big-style.
‘Ava? Are you OK?’
I nodded and handed Ethan my rucksack. ‘Stay here and keep an eye on Doreen.’
While death by sherbet was not high on my agenda, sometimes you have to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your head and do what your heart tells you. And despite everything, my heart told me to go to Alun.
The dragon seemed bigger up close. He was taller than one of the red London buses. The purple scales on his long, thick neck shimmered like the inside of a shell. He looked up at the sky and started to shake. I backed away. I really hoped my heart was right because my head was telling me I was toast.
‘Shush, Alun,’ I said. ‘You have to stay calm.’
Alun scratched the floor, his talons leaving lines in the dust. Poor thing – I could see now that his other foot was tied to a hex chain, binding him to the spot. It had dug deep, bloody lines in his ankle. No wonder he was panicking.
‘It’s OK,’ I said softly. ‘I want to help.’ I showed him my palms. ‘See, I’m not going to hurt you.’
Alun stretched his long neck towards me. He looked at me quizzically.
‘You can trust me, Alun. I promise.’
I took a deep breath and, crouching down next to his humongous foot, loosened the chain.
/> A shadow fell across the cornfields, the sun dwarfed by a single black cloud. The cloud billowed angrily, its centre twisting and swirling like a tornado. Beyond the cloud there was a single trail of purple-tinged vapour. The chain around Alun’s foot sizzled, scorching my fingers, and turned to dust.
Alun threw his head back, his nostrils flaring. I curled my hands into tight fists.
‘Calm, boy,’ I said. Please don’t let him snort sherbet.
Alun watched the vapour trail. He was shaking like a giant scaly jelly, but somehow he controlled his sherbet. The trail now a smudge in the distance, he grew calmer. He sighed and looked at me with warm, trusting eyes.
I reached up and patted him. ‘See, it’s all going to be OK.’
Alun didn’t look too sure. He nudged me with his muzzle and stepped to the side.
That’s when I saw it. The freaky pumpkin head in the corn behind him. It stared down at me with black triangle eyes, its mouth carved into a scream.
The pumpkin head belonged to a bedraggled scarecrow. The wind pulled on its smock making it look like it was moving. I stepped towards it, tripping over Doreen, who pushed past me and charged towards the pole. So much for Ethan keeping an eye on her.
‘No, Doreen,’ I shouted, trying to grab her mane.
She bucked and ran around in circles under the scarecrow, bleating like a goat who’d just realized its owners were not vegetarian.
‘Calm down, Doreen.’
Doreen butted me in the kneecap. Like she hadn’t tested her skull enough today, she jumped up at the scarecrow and butted the pole.
Like, what!
I covered my mouth with my hand. That’s what she’d been trying to tell me – the scarecrow was wearing Bertie’s shoes. How could I have missed those black-and-white tiger-striped loafers?
Doreen jumped up at the pole again.
The scarecrow turned its head.
It stared at me with its black triangle eyes.
‘Avariella,’ it said. ‘Stop messing around with Doreen and untie me right now.’
Oh yes, the pumpkin-headed scarecrow was Bertie, all right. He was firing instructions like arrows. Stop messing around with Doreen. I mean, he had to be kidding, right? How about a thank-you for risking life, limb and Dad’s finger wag to come and rescue him?
Bertie rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms out. ‘Thank goodness for that. I thought you were never going to get me down. I’m as stiff as a newly starched apron.’
Being tied to a pole for griffin knows how long had clearly not made my brother any less annoying. Still, I suppose I should be grateful he was OK. I just wished I knew Jeb was OK too, but Bertie said he had no idea where Odette had taken him. ‘Here, let me help you.’ I cupped my hands under Bertie’s chin and wriggled the pumpkin from side to side. ‘Are you sure you can’t think of anything that might help us find Jeb?’
‘Ouch! What in the name of Biscotti do you think you are doing?’
‘I’m trying to get this stupid thing off your head.’ It really was a snug fit.
‘I beg your pardon?’
Like, what? This wasn’t good. ‘Erg, nothing—’
‘Nothing – you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
If only. What I was seeing was far scarier.
Bertie swatted a mayfly away from his cheek. ‘Oh my word,’ he said, running his fingers over his orange fleshy face. ‘No wonder I have tunnel vision.’
Oh my word indeed. Watch out, gingerbread boy, because there was a new contender for the tastiest child in Biscotti. My brother was part-boy part-pumpkin.
‘Well, let’s not dwell on the matter.’ Bertie pulled off the sack trousers he’d been dressed in. ‘I’m sure there’s a fix for this predicament. Our priority now must be to find Sir Jeffrey and return home.’
Ethan stared at Bertie, his eyebrows furrowed. The short rest Bertie had requested in order that he might recombobulate had failed to recombobulate Ethan.
‘I’m terribly sorry.’ Bertie offered Ethan his hand. ‘It would appear my sister has forgotten her manners. His Royal Highness Prince Bertrand Cornelius Victor Custardo D’Alessandro of Biscotti, at your service.’
‘But you can call him Bertie,’ I said.
Ethan continued to stare.
Bertie turned his pumpkin-head towards me. ‘Is he OK? He seems a bit out of sorts.’
‘He’s fine, Bertie. I’ll explain later. Now put your trousers back on and let’s get out of here.’
‘I will not.’ Bertie’s triangle eyes grew narrow. ‘Have you felt how rough the fabric is? It could cause some serious chafing.’ He took off his smock and straightened his favourite blue-and-white-striped nightshirt, waving to Alun who started to pant like an excited dog.
‘Well, I hope you’re wearing underpants, Bertie, because that nightshirt is way too short. Come on, you too, Ethan. We need to get out of here.’
I scanned the cornfields, my heart sinking like a duck who’d eaten leaden bread. How in the Other World were we ever going to find Jeb? I knew this had all been too easy.
‘Keep your witchy-wig on.’ Bertie pulled the sack trousers from Doreen’s teeth. ‘We’re coming, aren’t we, Do-Do? So, what’s the plan?’
‘Plan is we get out of here fast.’
‘But I protest. A knight doesn’t go into battle without a strategy.’
Ethan moved closer to Bertie. ‘Actually, Ava, a plan would be kind of nice right now.’
No kidding. Alun had been my only clue. I had no idea where to start looking for Jeb.
‘Do you remember anything about how you got here, Bertie?’ I asked. ‘Maybe Jeb ran off somewhere on the way?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t. This whole experience has been most perplexing. What I do recall is hearing a noise and slipping on my favourite loafers to investigate. Next thing I was being tied to a pole by a pretty lady with the most appalling onion breath.’
The corn danced in the wind behind us, the air heavy with soot and dust. Bertie put his hand to his orange fleshy mouth and coughed. ‘Well, if you don’t have a plan, Avariella, did you at least manage to bring refreshments? My throat feels like sandpaper.’
‘Sorry, Bertie, I didn’t exactly have time to pack a picnic.’
Bertie looked at Ethan with his hands on his hips. ‘Honestly, what I wouldn’t give for a nice cup of Earl Grey.’
In the name of the good goblin, that was it. The tea leaves. What if Aunt Maude’s reading was further into the future? Maybe she wasn’t wrong about seeing Bertie and Jeb at the Limonadi River. Maybe they just hadn’t both got there yet? It was a long shot, but it was the only shot we had.
‘Let’s go – quick – I think I know where Jeb is. By the Limonadi River!’
‘And where did this sudden revelation come from?’
‘Just come on, Bertie. Grab Doreen – I’ll explain on the way.’ I ran around Alun towards the bikes.
‘Wait, Avariella.’ Bertie patted Alun, who wagged his tail, corn crashing to the ground. ‘Calm down, boy. You’ll take us all out with that thing.’
‘Bertie, be careful. His sherbet!’
‘Oh, balderdash. If he hasn’t excreted sulphuric crystals by now it’s not going to happen.’ He stroked Alun’s leg and the dragon lay down, curling his tail like a spiral staircase. ‘Not after what we’ve been through together, hey, Alun?’
Alun bent his neck and licked the stubby stalk on top of Bertie’s head.
‘Now what have I told you. I’m not much of a cuddler.’
Was this for real? Bertie had now stepped on to Alun’s tail.
‘Come along, you two,’ he said. ‘Alun will have us there in no time. The dragon and I have become quite good friends over the course of our captivity. Though I must say, he’s a bit affectionate for my liking.’
Ethan made a weird splurting noise somewhere between a cough and a cry. ‘He is kidding, right?’
‘It’s OK. Bertie’s right, Alun’s not going to hurt us.’
Ethan flashed me his palms and backed away.
‘Oh, for goblin’s sake.’ Even with a round orange head Bertie still managed to look snooty. ‘Have you no spine, boy?’
‘What?’ Ethan glared at Bertie.
‘He’s calling you a wimp.’
‘That I am. Now come on. Take the coward’s route if you will, but I think Sir Jeffrey would prefer us to take the dragon express.’
The dragon express it was then. Bertie made his way along Alun’s tail, his nightshirt riding up in a very disturbing manner as he lost his footing and leant forward to correct his balance. He pulled it down and continued up the dragon’s back, using the raised scales that ran along his spine for footholds. Plopping himself down, he placed a leg either side of Alun’s neck, and called down to Ethan.
‘See, easy as algebra.’
Ethan shook his head. Smiling nervously, he
climbed up Alun’s back and nestled down behind Bertie in the dip between the dragon’s shoulders. Doreen secured safely in my rucksack, I followed, slipping into position behind Ethan where I could make sure he was OK. Dragon-riding, like wow! If I wasn’t so worried about Jeb, I’d have been whooping with excitement.
‘We’re ready, Alun, if we may,’ said Bertie. ‘The bicycles, please.’
Alun used his teeth to pick up the rope we’d tied our bikes together with.
‘See,’ said Bertie. ‘What the dragon lacks in courage, he makes up for in intelligence.’
Bertie was right. Alun was a total wuss, but he wasn’t short on brain power. The BMXs dangling from his mouth like a mouse caught by the tail, the dragon shifted his weight forward and tensed. Glancing over his shoulder, he unfolded his wings, the purple skin as thin as paper, and thrust upwards. Like, oh my giddy goblin, we were flying.
Upwards we soared into the wind, my hair whipping around my face and my stomach leapfrogging.
‘Sick!’ Ethan’s voice wavered in the breeze. ‘This is one way to catch big air.’
Was it! Sack-racing was now down to number three on my list of favourite things to do, BMX coming in first, closely followed by dragon-riding.
Princess BMX Page 10
