by Alex Bell
They came out in a little clearing where they found the narrowest, most crooked-looking gingerbread house Stella could have imagined. It was leaning at such an angle that it was a wonder it managed to stay up at all. With chocolate roof tiles, barley-sugar windows, gingerbread walls and a candy-cane fence, it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.
‘Come on,’ Cadi said. ‘She ought to be waiting round the back.’
The explorers followed the witch hunter to the other side of the house where there was a stone garden, a little rock pool full of fat toads and what appeared to be a wishing well.
‘Don’t throw any pennies into the wishing well,’ Cadi warned as they went past.
‘Why not?’ Ethan asked.
‘A troll lives there,’ she replied. ‘And he gets ever so cross if people chuck dirty old pennies at him.’ She glanced back and said, ‘Oh, and I wouldn’t let the jungle fairies tuck into the house like that. It’s got a magic spell on it that will make anyone who eats it terribly ill.’
While the four explorers hurried to drag the jungle fairies away from the house, Cadi slipped off Gus’s back, and walked, spurs jangling, over to a broomstick tree. There was a tree house perched, rather precariously, between its bristles, and Cadi picked up one of the pebbles at her feet and threw it, with expert aim, up to the house. The tree house was obviously made of gingerbread too because the pebble caused a cascade of gingery crumbs to come showering down on the hunter, making her sneeze.
The jungle fairies were desperately keen on the big house and it took all four explorers to prise them away. Stella caught hold of Mustafah just as he succeeded in breaking a massive slab of gingerbread from the windowsill. She had to admit that it did smell incredibly good, like it had just been freshly baked.
‘Don’t do it,’ she warned, and tried to pluck it from Mustafah’s hands.
The fairy was too quick for her, however, and shoved the entire brick of gingerbread into his mouth in one piece.
‘Oh, Mustafah,’ Stella sighed. ‘Cadi says this will make you ill. You should never trust witches’ gingerbread, you know.’
The jungle fairy clearly didn’t share her concern, however, because he swallowed the gingerbread down in one self-satisfied gulp.
‘I think Harriet’s eaten some too,’ Shay said, peering at the fairy in his hand.
‘Let’s just hope that jungle fairies have stronger stomachs than humans do,’ Stella said. ‘Best keep a tight grip on them for now.’ She peered down at Mustafah. ‘I’m sorry but it’s no use squirming like that,’ she told him. ‘This is for your own good.’
The explorers joined Cadi at the base of the tree house. The witch hunter had a fine collection of gingerbread crumbs amassed in the brim of her hat from the pebbles she’d thrown.
‘Drusilla!’ she hissed. ‘Where are you?’ She glanced at the others and said, ‘Drat, I think she must have wandered off.’
‘You didn’t just leave her free, did you?’ Stella asked, surprised. ‘Surely you at least tied her up?’
‘No, but she promised she’d wait here,’ Cadi replied.
‘You can’t trust a witch’s promise.’
Cadi shrugged. ‘Never mind, she can’t have gone far. We’ll probably come across her if we push on.’
The explorers continued on their way. Almost as soon as they left the house they came across a foul-smelling swamp. The thick green liquid oozed and bubbled, emitting a horrid smell of rotten eggs and dirty old feet. There must have been hot springs underground because the surface steamed. The stench was so strong that it even seemed to have affected the broomstick trees, which weren’t tall and straight here, but curled and leaned at odd angles. Even the bristles had been affected, growing longer and stragglier, hanging down towards the swamp in thick coils of hairy rope.
‘Don’t stick your hand in the swamp,’ Cadi whispered to the others. ‘There are trolls living in there and they’ll drag you right in if they can.’
‘You must think we’re utterly brainless,’ Ethan said, one hand covering his nose. ‘Who in their right mind would stick their hand into that foul thing? I would rather die than dip so much as a toe in it.’
After a little while, the path led steeply up a very high bank, before running out completely, and they found themselves facing the most rickety-looking bridge Stella had ever seen. Felix had told her before that rickety bridges were all part of exploring, and it was some kind of rule that bridges in unknown lands were never strong and new and sturdy, but always wobbly and shaky and unsound.
‘That’s what makes them such fun,’ he’d said.
Stella really wasn’t too sure about this bridge, however. It consisted of rotten-looking wooden planks tied to two lengths of rope that seemed like they might unravel at any moment. Each end was tied to one of the bent broomstick trees, and the bridge stretched right over a vast expanse of bubbling green swamp.
‘This has got to be some kind of cruel joke!’ Ethan groaned.
‘Looks like it’s the only way across,’ Cadi said cheerfully, rolling up her sleeves, throwing her mass of dreadlocks back over her shoulder and seeming pretty delighted with the whole affair.
She nudged Gus forwards, but Ethan hurried round to plant himself in the walrus’s path. ‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘You are not going first on that thing. I mean, look at it! It’s as big as an elephant! There’s no way the bridge will bear his weight.’
‘Well, there’s only one way to find out,’ Cadi replied. ‘If the worst comes to the worst and he crashes through then we can all climb onto his back and he’ll swim across. Gus is an excellent swimmer, even in swampy water like this.’
‘Nigel can hardly climb on his back, can he?’ Ethan said, pointing at the camel who had curled his lip in disgust at the smell of the swamp. ‘And didn’t you say there were trolls?’
‘Well, what would you suggest then?’ Cadi replied. ‘Since you’re so smart?’
‘I’m going first,’ Ethan said in a firm voice. He held up a hand and said, ‘I know I’m being selfish, and I’m sorry. But every time someone puts weight on that bridge they’re weakening it further, making it even more likely that the whole thing will just collapse. Since I’m the one who can’t stand being dirty then it seems only fair that I go first.’
‘I don’t like being dirty either,’ Stella protested indignantly.
‘No, but you don’t mind being covered in polar bear slobber,’ Ethan shot back. ‘We should go one at a time, and I’m first.’
Before anyone else could protest, or argue with him further, Ethan stepped onto the bridge. The moment his boot touched the first plank it swayed, groaned and creaked beneath his feet in a most alarming manner, and the magician had to stick both arms out to keep his balance. Looking at the great length of the bridge stretching out before him, Stella couldn’t help wondering whether he’d manage to make it to the end, especially as there were no handrails to hold on to.
‘Ethan, I’m not sure about this,’ she called. ‘Perhaps we should look for another way across.’
‘It’s too late now, I’m doing it,’ Ethan replied.
He’d managed to walk several feet out onto the bridge, and was about halfway over when Beanie suddenly said below them. ‘I’ve found another way. There’s a tunnel that goes under the swamp. We don’t need to cross the bridge.’
The others all turned around and saw that Beanie had scrambled off the bank to the marshy grass below and had, indeed, unearthed the entrance to a tunnel. It had been hidden by a thick hanging curtain of bristles from one of the broomstick trees, but now they saw that it led straight underneath the swamp. It was too dark to tell whether it reached the other side or not but everyone agreed it was worth a shot. No one fancied trying to navigate an uppity camel or a gormless walrus across the bridge.
Stella called Ethan’s name, meaning to tell him that they’d found another way, but he waved his arm at her irritably without looking back.
‘Would you stop distract
ing me?’ he snapped. ‘Anyone would think you want me to fall in!’
‘Just leave him,’ Shay told her. ‘He’s over halfway now. And we don’t know how safe this tunnel is, or whether it’ll get us across.’
They scrabbled down the bank to join Beanie who looked at Cadi and asked, ‘Do trolls live in the tunnel too?’ He tugged at his pom-pom hat anxiously. ‘Trolls are very dangerous to explorers, you know. There have been troll-related deaths and maimings and injuries linked to all four of the explorers’ clubs. The desert-dwelling sand troll torments the Desert Jackal Explorers’ Club, while the salty ridge web-footed water troll has been known to attack submarines belonging to the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club. Ice trolls are second only to yetis in the destruction they’ve wreaked on the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club, while the jungle-dwelling, nose-picking, bogey-eating trolls of Monkey Jungle have spoiled many a picnic of the Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club.’ He peered at the tunnel and said, ‘So, are there likely to be trolls in there, do you think?’
The hunter shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say. I’ve never been in any tunnels on Witch Mountain before.’
‘I suppose it’s likely to have all the same hazards as the caves,’ Beanie said glumly, before ticking them off on his fingers. ‘Biting bats, nibbling rats, poisonous snakes, poisonous spiders, poisonous—’
‘Oh, no, no,’ Cadi said cheerfully. ‘You might find those things in normal caves, but in Witch Mountain caves you’re far more likely to come across flying sharks, or hypnotising white cats, or crazed bug-eyed gremlins, or suffocating dancing mushrooms or—’
‘All right.’ Shay held up his hand. ‘We get the picture.’ He glanced at Beanie, who was shuddering from head to toe and tugging at his pom-pom hat again in agitation. ‘You never know, perhaps there’ll be nothing dangerous or horrible in there at all.’ He went to clap Beanie on the back, but then remembered at the last moment that the medic wouldn’t like that so, instead, he said, ‘Just think about narwhals and jellybeans and we’ll be out the other end in no time.’
At the mention of narwhals, Beanie remembered the wooden carving his father had given him and took it from his pocket to clutch for comfort. Stella reached up for Nigel’s reins, lifted the glowing pixie lamp a little higher, and the four children stepped forwards into the gaping dark tunnel.
It smelled of damp and cold stone, with green lichen creeping up the walls and slippery moss sparkling in a coat of frost underfoot.
‘Well, gremlins have definitely been in here at some time,’ Cadi said. She pointed at the wall. ‘These are gremlin holes, for sure.’
Stella lifted the fire-pixie lamp and they all contemplated the multitude of holes burrowed into the rock.
‘Looks like they haven’t been here for ages, though,’ Cadi said, gazing around. ‘There’d be more little bones scattered about if gremlins lived here.’
Gus slid easily over the slippery moss and seemed delighted to be in the tunnel. It was a good thing they’d fashioned him with a pith helmet, though, because he raced happily ahead of them and instantly smashed into a wall in the bend up ahead. He shook his head, looking a little confused, but otherwise unharmed.
The tunnel curved around to the right and, as soon as they turned the bend, they found they no longer required the fire-pixie lamp because light flooded in through the walls, which weren’t made from solid rock but from a clear material.
‘What is this?’ Stella asked, peering at it. ‘Glass?’
‘Witchstone,’ Cadi replied.
The witchstone windows took up most of the tunnel, including the roof, allowing them to see that they were surrounded by swamp on all sides.
‘How come the swamp is so bright?’ Stella asked as they all pressed their noses up against the witchstone window for a better view. ‘It looked solid green from above.’
‘Strange,’ Cadi said. ‘There must be something glowing in there.’ She turned to Beanie and said, ‘You seem to be the troll expert. What do you think? Is there such a thing as a glow-in-the-dark troll?’
Beanie frowned. ‘I’m not a troll expert,’ he said. ‘There are more than three hundred types of troll in the discovered world and, so far, I’ve only memorised the habits and habitats of sixty-two. Perhaps I should ask Uncle Benedict for a troll book for Christmas?’
‘Come on,’ Shay said. ‘Whatever’s in there, it’s probably nothing nice. We should push on. Ethan will think we’ve been snatched away by goblins.’
They continued on down the tunnel. Every now and then a shape would glide past the window, but it came and went so quickly that Stella wasn’t able to make it out properly. She was sure that Shay was right, though, and nothing good was likely to dwell in a swamp on Witch Mountain.
‘There’s Ethan, look,’ Beanie said, pointing through a witchstone window in the roof of the tunnel.
They peered up and saw that the magician was, indeed, directly above them. From their position they could see his boots on the bridge above. It looked like he had almost reached the other side of the swamp.
‘The light seems brighter here,’ Beanie said.
Stella realised he was right. The water was extremely bright, right underneath where Ethan was standing.
‘Uh-oh,’ Cadi said.
‘What?’ Shay looked at her sharply.
‘I think I know what’s creating that light,’ the hunter said. She pointed out the window and said, ‘Glow-piranha.’
Stella followed the direction of her finger and gasped. There was, indeed, an entire hoarde of devilish fish directly underneath Ethan. They appeared to be mostly teeth – rows upon rows of them – sticking straight out of the fishes’ mouths, curving over their lips and giving them a ferocious look. Their fins emitted a silvery light that glowed bright enough to cut straight through the murky swamp. Their attention was fixed on Ethan, and they were all gnashing their teeth in an expectant manner.
‘Great Scott!’ Shay exclaimed. ‘If he falls in the swamp, he’s toast.’
‘He won’t be toast,’ Beanie said frowning. ‘He’ll be a dead magician if he falls in the swamp, that’s what he’ll be. A shoal of glow-piranha can strip the flesh off a fully grown man in under a minute.’
Just when they thought things couldn’t get any worse, a large white shape suddenly slapped down onto the roof of the tunnel, making the explorers jump back in alarm. They found themselves staring up into the eyes of a pale troll with gangly limbs, narrow eyes, wild seaweedy hair, and webbed fingers that suckered down onto the witchstone like an octopus’s tentacles as the awful thing hissed through the water at them, displaying rows of needle-sharp teeth.
‘And that’s a webbed-fingered vampire troll,’ Beanie said. ‘They feed off blood and are often found living in close proximity to glow-piranha.’
‘Cripes!’ Stella exclaimed. ‘The swamp is crawling with monsters! Quick! We’ve got to warn Ethan!’
They set off at a run, the camel’s hooves clattering noisily on the stone floor as Nigel bleated indignantly at being forced to move above a sedate trot. As they raced along they saw more and more of the pale vampire trolls flitting about in the water, which was bright with piranha.
They tumbled out of the end of the tunnel in a panic, just as Ethan stepped off the bridge. He looked astonished to see them. ‘How the heck did you—’
‘Tunnel!’ Stella gasped. ‘Beanie found it.’
‘Well, you might have told me,’ Ethan huffed.
‘Perhaps if you’d waited a moment rather than racing to be the first person to cross the bridge then you could have travelled safely with us instead,’ Shay replied. He reached his hand down to Koa, who nuzzled the air around his fingers. ‘It doesn’t always pay to be selfish, you know, Prawn.’
Stella pointed at the swamp and said, ‘The water down there is absolutely crawling with monsters. You were very lucky!’
The magician gave her a withering look. ‘It’s got nothing to do with luck and everything to do with my excellent balance and sure-footednes
s.’ He glared at Shay. ‘And don’t call me selfish! If anything, I was doing you lot a favour. If the bridge was unsafe then I would have been first to find out.’
‘Well it doesn’t matter now, so let’s not argue about it,’ Shay said with a sigh. He reached out for Ethan’s elbow and said, ‘Let’s just concentrate on getting away from this monster-filled swamp.’
Rather than accepting the steadying hand, Ethan snapped, ‘Don’t touch me! I don’t need your help!’
He batted Shay’s hand away but, unfortunately, the movement caused his heel to slip in the soft mud at the edge of the swamp. Shay lunged forward, but only managed to snatch at Ethan’s fingertips, which immediately slipped from his grasp as the magician fell backwards, straight into the water.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
One moment the magician was there, the next he had been sucked down beneath the surface of the water with a glugging noise. Stella heard Beanie’s words from the tunnel: He’ll be a dead magician if he falls in the swamp, that’s what he’ll be. A shoal of glow-piranha can strip the flesh off a fully grown man in under a minute …
She had the terrible image of plucking a skeleton from the green waters, and that being all that was left of Ethan. Zachary Vincent Rook would not be at all happy if they presented him with a bag of bones when they got home. But there was no time for panic or running around in a flap. Felix always said that the first rule of exploring was not to lose your head in a crisis.
‘After all, if explorers panicked every time a member of their expedition got washed over a waterfall, or snatched away by a yeti, or buried in an avalanche, then we’d be in a state of mayhem all the time, wouldn’t we?’ he’d said.
However, it was a little difficult to stay calm when one of your expedition had just fallen into a glow-piranha- and vampire-troll-infested, noxious-smelling swamp. Beanie, unfortunately, completely lost his head, and started reciting piranha-related explorer deaths while tugging at his pom-pom hat; Cadi put both hands to her mouth and stared in horror at the surface of the water; but Shay and Stella sprang into action at once.
