One Beastly Beast

by Garth Nix

  For older readers

  THE KEYS TO THE KINGDOM

  Mister Monday

  Grim Tuesday

  Drowned Wednesday

  Sir Thursday

  Lady Friday

  Superior Saturday

  THE OLD KINGDOM

  Sabriel

  Lirael

  Abhorsen

  Two Aliens,

  Three Inventors,

  Four Fantastic Tales

  Illustrated by Sholto Walker

  This edition first published in 2008 First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2007 Blackbread the Pirate © Garth Nix. 1999. First published by Koala Books, Australia ‘The Princess and the Beastly Beast’ © Garth Nix. 2007 by HarperCollins Children’s Books Bill the Inventor © Garth Nix, 1998. First published by Koala Books, Australia Serena and the Sea Serpent © Garth Nix, 2000. First published by Puffin, Penguin Books, Australia

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

  Allen & Unwin

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  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

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  National Library of Australia

  Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:

  Nix, Garth, 1963-

  One beastly beast : two aliens, three inventors, four fantastic tales!

  ISBN: 9781741754681 (pbk.)

  For primary school age.

  A823.3

  Printed in Australia by McPhersons Printing Group

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To Stella Paskins, Ruth Katcher, Cathie Tasker and Kay Ronai, the editors who brought these stories into print; and as always, to Anna, Thomas and Edward

  Contents

  Blackbread the Pirate

  The Princess and the Beastly Beast

  Bill the Inventor

  Serena and the Sea Serpent

  Dear Reader,

  Once upon a time, quite a long time ago, there was a boy who loved stories. He liked all kinds of stories, but particularly those about pirates, and aliens, and inventors, and sea serpents and knights and castles and monsters and dark nights when the moon was just a sliver in the sky, and a boy or a girl had to become a hero and take on terrible tasks to make everything right with the world.

  The boy was lucky, because his parents loved stories too and their house was full of books, and he was even luckier still, because there was a library halfway between school and home. So he read more tales of adventure and excitement, more stories about talking animals and hideous beasts and brave children and magic both fair and foul.

  That boy, of course, was me. I still love all kinds of stories, but most of all I like the ones that tell of fantastic creatures and fabulous places. When I grew up, I found out that I didn’t want to just read stories like that, I wanted to write them.

  I’ve pretty much written all my books for myself. When I write, I just try to tell the kind of story that I like to read. These four stories in particular are for that young boy, who more than thirty-five years ago signed up for a life of adventure through reading.

  Garth Nix

  Blackbread

  the Pirate

  Chapter One

  ‘Take these videos back to the shop, please,’ said Peter’s mum. She took two DVDs out of her shopping bag and handed them to her son. ‘They have to be back by two o’clock or they cost extra.’

  ‘OK,’ said Peter. Anything to get away from the boredom of following his mother around. ‘Which video shop, Mum?’

  ‘VideoPleaseMe,’ said Mum as she locked the car. ‘Right over there. Then come straight over to the supermarket.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Peter, rolling his eyes. Anyone would think he was still a little kid.

  ‘And no, you can’t have any money to rent games for your PlayStation,’ added Mum as Peter opened his mouth.

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Peter.

  Peter trudged over to the shop, pretending that he was slow-marching in a procession. He held the two DVDs out in front of him like some sort of ceremonial regalia. The sacred DVDs of the king, he thought, and laughed.

  ‘Make way for the king’s DVDs,’ he said in a mock-regal voice to no one in particular as he crossed the car park.

  ‘King’s DVDs!’ said a voice from somewhere ahead of him and somehow down below.

  Peter stopped pretending to be the king and tried to see who was talking. But there was no one around. Just one lady getting into her car. Besides, the voice sounded low and gruff. It couldn’t have come from her.

  ‘Down here, matey!’

  It was louder now. A deep and somehow slightly nasty voice that made Peter think of running away. But he took a quick, deep breath instead… and looked down.

  Chapter Two

  Just in front of Peter’s feet there was a heavy steel grating set in the ground – a kind of manhole for the drains – and that’s where the voice was coming from.

  ‘What are you doing in the drain?’ asked Peter. His voice quavered a bit, though he was more surprised than frightened.

  ‘Ar, that’d be a tale to tell,’ answered the voice. ‘A tale as wot’s longer than my tail, if yer take my meaning.’

  Peter didn’t take his meaning, but he knelt down to take a closer look, putting the videos on the ground next to the grating. But as soon as he let go of them, the grating suddenly moved up and sideways. Peter instinctively jumped back. Then he stood and stared, unable to believe what he was seeing.

  Four enormous black rats jumped out of the drain – rats that stood on their hind legs and came up as far as his knees. But these weren’t just really big rats. They had clothes on, old-fashioned clothes with big wide belts and floppy hats. Three of them held cutlasses in their pink paws, and one was pointing two pistols at Peter. Old pistols like the kind that humans hadn’t used for more than a hundred years, but rat-sized.

  ‘You’re pirates!’ exclaimed Peter, taking in additional details such as the eyepatch on the biggest, meanest-looking rat, and the skull and crossbones dyed white on his black chest fur, where his red shirt was rudely unbuttoned to the waist.

  ‘Yes, we be pirates!’ growled the rat with the eyepatch, gesturing to his mates to pick up the two DVDs. ‘We be video pirates, ah har, and those there discs will fetch us a pretty sum. I advise yer to step aside, lad, if yer knows wot’s good for yer!’

  ‘But video pirates just copy stuff,’ said Peter frowning. ‘They don’t steal them! We’ll have to pay a fine if you steal our DVDs.’

  ‘Don’t tell us how to do our piratin’,’ said the rat menacingly. ‘We’re taking these here DVDs and that’s that!’

  Quickly, the rats passed the DVDs down into the drain, while the one with the eyepatch kept his pistols trained on Peter. After the others had climbed back down, this last rat hesitated, then raised his pistols.

  ‘Don’t try and follow us!’ he ordered. ‘And don’t go blabbing to the navy, neither.’

  With that said, he carefully uncocked the pistols and thrust them through his belt, before diving after his gang. Judging from the rat’s caution with the guns, Peter got
the impression that he’d probably once had a nasty accident with them.

  He was just bending over to look down the drain when the pirate rat suddenly popped back up, teeth shining evilly in the sun.

  ‘Don’t even think about following us!’ he snarled, before disappearing again.

  Peter stood absolutely still for a minute and listened carefully. He could hear distant echoes coming from the drain, as if the rats were singing as they marched away. Away with his DVDs. Peter felt half angry and half petrified, but mostly he thought, What can I say to Mum? Four pirate rats stole the DVDs and I didn’t do anything?

  He took a step forward, and then another. His foot was in the air for the third and final step when the mean-looking rat popped out again.

  ‘I said—’ he started to say, then his eyes bulged, his whiskers sprang out absolutely straight and he ducked back down into the drain.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Halt in the name of the king!’ shouted a voice behind Peter. Before he could turn round to look, more rats raced past him. They were the same size as the pirates, but these were wearing blue-and-white-striped shirts and red cloth caps, and they all had pistols as well as cutlasses. They quickly surrounded the drainhole, ignoring Peter, except for the rat who was obviously their leader.

  ‘Ruffians!’ exclaimed this important-looking rat, and marched over to Peter. Peter looked down at him, taking in the blue uniform with gold buttons and braid, and the shiny black arched hat.

  ‘I guess you’re the navy,’ said Peter slowly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  ‘Well done, sir,’ exclaimed the rat. ‘Captain Erasmus Rattus at your service, of His Majesty’s Royal Ratship Tumblewheel. Currently on an anti-piracy cruise.’

  ‘They took my DVDs,’ said Peter. ‘Four horrible pirates! One had an eyepatch.’

  ‘The scurvy knaves!’ exclaimed Captain Rattus angrily. ‘If coming up Topside ain’t bad enough, it’s pirating videos as well. What’s your name, lad?’

  ‘Peter,’ said Peter.

  ‘A goodly name,’ said the captain. ‘Like the Blue Peter flag we fly when we’re leaving port. That’s a name for adventure, that is. I expect you’ll be wanting to come with us to recover your cargo?’

  ‘Cargo?’ asked Peter. ‘What cargo?’

  ‘The DVDs!’ cried Captain Rattus. ‘Why, if we don’t catch those pirates soon, they’ll be turning those DVDs into Frisbees and earrings and coasters and trading them for gold and ivory. They’re probably almost back to their ship by now. Are you coming with us?’

  He pointed at the open drain and the sailor rats started to jump down, one after the other. Soon there was only the captain and Peter left. Peter looked at the hole and thought of the lost DVDs.

  ‘I’m too big to get down there,’ he said finally. He didn’t know if he wanted to go or not. He did like the sound of an adventure, but he wasn’t sure about all these rats.

  ‘Too big?’ muttered Captain Rattus. ‘We’ll soon fix that. Where’s the doctor!’

  ‘Here, sir!’ piped up a rat Peter hadn’t even noticed. An unobtrusive rat in a scruffy brown coat, who was lurking way back near another drain. He hurried over, pulled out a monocle, stuck it in his eye and peered up at Peter.

  ‘Doctor Abednego Norvegicus at your service,’ he said. ‘I take it that this is a matter of shrinkage, captain?’

  ‘Shrinking!’ corrected the captain. ‘Peter here wants to sign on for the duration.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure if that’s exactly—’ said Peter anxiously. ‘The duration’ sounded like a very long time.

  ‘Well, as long as it takes to recover his cargo or when he gets sick of it then,’ said the captain. ‘So if you could please shrink him down immediately, doctor, that would be most agreeable.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said the doctor, looking up at Peter and making estimating motions with his arms. ‘How old are you, Peter?’

  ‘Nine,’ said Peter. ‘In July.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the doctor. ‘Since I haven’t a potion or the necessary lotion in the quantities you would require, it will have to be a spell.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘A spell?’ asked the captain. His nose twitched and he muttered, ‘Mumbo jumbo hocus pocus—’

  ‘Not that spell, Captain!’ exclaimed the doctor, raising one pink paw in protest.

  ‘I didn’t know that was a spell,’ said the captain. ‘I’ll just nip down this hole while you get on with it.’

  He’d no sooner finished speaking than he was gone, his magnificently long tail trailing behind him for a full half-second. ‘Is this shrinking spell dangerous?’ asked Peter, who was having second thoughts about the whole adventure. ‘Maybe I should just tell Mum I lost the DVDs…’

  ‘It’s not dangerous at all,’ said the doctor soothingly, as he rummaged in his waistcoat for a piece of chalk. Having found it, he quickly inscribed some magic marks on Peter’s white trainers.

  Since the chalk was white too, Peter couldn’t see the marks, but the doctor seemed satisfied.

  ‘Now, I shall utter the spell,’ said the doctor. He reached up over his head as if he were pegging out washing. ‘You may want to close your eyes, Peter. Being shrunk sometimes makes people vomit if they look.’

  Peter nodded, but he didn’t shut his eyes. He was never sick, not even on the Planet Freefall ride at the Easter Show, which everyone called the Chucker-Upper.

  The doctor started making strange motions with his paws, then began to dance anticlockwise around Peter, stopping every few steps to stamp his feet.

  ‘Widdershins, widdershins, baker’s man (stomp stomp)

  Make this boy as small as you can (stomp stomp)

  But like the dough that makes the bread (stomp stomp)

  He’ll rise again when the words are said!’ (stomp stomp)

  The doctor finished with a surprising triple spin that sent his tail whipping round in a circle. Then he lowered his arms as if he were trying to drag Peter down without actually touching him.

  At first, the boy felt nothing; then the whole world went blurry and everything started to twist and roll around him. He felt himself shrinking, the cars growing taller and taller around him. The doctor loomed up past his waist, past his shoulders, and then the rat was standing right next to him and they were exactly the same size.

  ‘You didn’t throw up,’ said Doctor Norvegicus. He sounded surprised and disappointed.

  ‘Mmppphhh,’ said Peter, who was doing his best not to be sick after all.

  ‘Ah, all rat-sized, shipshape and Bristol fashion!’ declared the captain, poking his nose out of the drain. ‘Let’s get below!’

  Chapter Five

  Still holding his mouth closed, Peter followed the doctor to the drain. He’d expected it to be just a small concrete tunnel full of water, but there was actually a very deep hole and a rope ladder that descended into darkness. The captain was standing on one of the upper rungs, consulting a pocket chronometer and a thick book with very thin pages.

  ‘Look sharp!’ he ordered. ‘This hole will close in a few minutes.’

  Without waiting, the captain started down. Peter and the doctor followed quickly. It wasn’t until they were about fifty rungs down that Peter felt better and dared to open his mouth.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asked. ‘And what do you mean, this hole will close?’

  ‘We’re going back to the Neverworld,’ replied the captain easily, not at all out of breath from climbing, despite his heavy coat and sword. ‘That’s where we come from. Sometimes holes poke through from the Neverworld to your world and people cross over. There are books that predict where these world-holes will appear. Interworld almanacs – like the one you just saw me use. But these pirates have managed to get their hands on something even more useful, I’m afraid.’

  ‘An orrery,’ said the doctor.

  ‘What’s a… what you said?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Mostly it’s pricklesome hard to pronounce,’ replie
d the captain. ‘Oh-rair-ree. See what I mean?’

  ‘An orrery is usually a model of how the planets move around the sun,’ explained the doctor, ignoring Captain Rattus. ‘But there were some special sorcerous orreries made by the famous magician Leonardo Ratinci several hundred years ago. A Ratinci’s orrery can show you where all the holes between the worlds are and when they will be.’

  ‘Those detestable pirates stole a Ratinci orrery from a rich merchant,’ explained the captain. ‘We’ve been following them for days, trying to get it back. If we don’t, they’ll pop up all over your world and do their evil business, stealing DVDs and suchlike.’

  ‘I see,’ said Peter, beginning to understand the situation. Mostly he wanted to get his own DVDs back, but clearly a Ratinci orrery shouldn’t be left in the hands of pirates. Thinking of his own DVDs made him realise he couldn’t possibly deliver them before two o’clock or get back before his mother finished shopping.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, stopping. ‘I’ve just realised that I have to go back. My mum’ll miss me.’

  ‘No, no,’ cried the doctor. ‘Keep on! The world-hole is closing above us!’

  Chapter Six

  Peter looked up, and sure enough the sides of the hole were flowing inwards like mud into a bottle. Quickly, he started down again, almost slipping on the next few rungs.

  ‘In any case,’ puffed the doctor below him, ‘you won’t be missed. Time is different in the Neverworld. In fact, if you stay here too long, you might end up going back before you left. Or if you choose the wrong hole between the Neverworld and Topside – which is what we call where you come from – you might end up going back years before you were even born.’

  Peter didn’t like the sound of that at all. He was already regretting coming on this adventure. He was tired of this rope ladder that seemed to descend for a kilometre at least through the gloomy, dismal darkness. Besides, there was no knowing what was at the other end of this world-hole. Maybe the doctor and the captain were lying and they were taking him away to be a slave, and he’d never see the sun again, or his mum, or anything.