by Tom Percival
in squished writing to the sign, before swiping the pogo stick and bending it in two.
By the time Rapunzel had dragged her trampoline into the square and started jumping up and down while Alphege was practising juggling with some brightly coloured clubs, all three guards were furious.
‘Get out of here!’ shouted the guard with the curly red hair. She crossed out the whole sign and changed it to read:
That was when one of Alphege’s clubs accidentally flew out of his hand and bashed her on the nose.
‘Get them!’ roared the guard, running towards Alphege, who turned and sprinted off, closely followed by Rapunzel, Wolfie, Hansel, Gretel and Ella. The children were fast, but the guards were bigger and stronger, and it wasn’t long before they had trapped the group against the bank of the river that ran through Tale Town.
‘Got you!’ shouted the red-haired guard.
There was a huge splash as Lily the Sea Witch burst up out of the river behind the group of children. Her eyes shone with magic and her long hair glistened like glass. She pulled the lid off a coloured jar and flung the contents of it all over the guards, who immediately crumpled and fell fast asleep.
‘Did you see that?’ she asked excitedly, looking at her friends. ‘I mean, wow! Just WOW! Wasn’t that totally fantabulous?’
Wolfie smiled. Lily was one of the most enthusiastic people he’d ever met. ‘Sure was, Lily!’ he said. ‘Let’s just hope everything else goes as smoothly.’
Alone in the town square, the troll child trapped in the stocks looked around nervously. Those children seemed to have led the guards away on purpose. As they ran off, the girl with the long blonde plaits had actually winked at him. But why? Why would human children try to help him?
There was a loud roar as a group of trolls burst into the town square. The prisoner’s heart leaped. Finally he was being rescued! But how had they got past Tale Town’s Moonstone defences? Moonstone stopped trolls being able to use their magic, and Tale Town was surrounded by it. The guards had even used Moonstone chains to secure the stocks. But it didn’t seem to affect these trolls one bit.
That’s when the young troll realized his rescuers weren’t really trolls at all – they were gorillas, dressed up with masks on!
One of them held up a piece of paper with the words:
written neatly on it. Another gorilla snapped the chains, swung the troll boy up under one arm and then they all ran out of the square. As he bounced around under the gorilla’s hairy arm, the troll boy could see that they were even wearing pretend troll feet as if they were shoes.
But why were they helping him at all?
After bouncing around for a few minutes the young troll found himself stuffed into a large canvas bag and put on the back of a cart. He poked his head out, but a girl with a bright red hood pushed his head down and gestured for him to be quiet. A second later, he heard her yell, ‘Trolls! Trolls!’
The troll boy could hear the clanking sound of armed guards running up towards the cart.
‘They went that way!’ said a boy’s voice.
There was a small hole in the canvas bag, and the troll could just make out a human boy holding a bad-tempered hen pointing to what looked like a small group of trolls, running out of Tale Town. He had to admit, from this distance, the gorillas looked very convincing.
‘We’ll catch them!’ called a guard. ‘Don’t you worry!’ Then they were gone.
‘What’s happening?’ whispered the young troll. The girl smiled as she passed him a bottle of water and a bag of snacks and then folded over the top of the canvas bag.
‘We’re going camping!’ she replied.
‘Shh!’ said another boy’s voice. ‘My dad’s coming!’
It took a long time to get to the campsite. By the time the cart squeaked to a halt, everyone was relieved.
Anansi’s dad, Mosi, ruffled his son’s hair.
‘This is where we’re meeting your mum and uncle,’ he said, ‘They should be here any minute.’
‘Great!’ said Anansi as he climbed out of the cart with Jack and Red.
squawked Betsy as she fluttered to the ground.
‘We’re all a bit stiff, Betsy,’ said Jack.
said Betsy, looking upset.
‘I know that you’ve got that old volleyball injury!’ said Jack with a sigh. ‘You never stop going on about it,’ he added under his breath. ‘Come on, we’d better get the tents up.’
‘Good idea,’ said Anansi’s dad. ‘Give me a second and I’ll throw down the tent bags.’ He climbed over the seats into the back of the cart and reached to pick up the bag that the troll boy was hidden in.
‘No!’ yelled Anansi, Red and Jack at the same time.
‘Why not?’ asked Anansi’s dad with a frown. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Er . . .’ said Anansi, looking at Red.
‘Er . . .’ said Red, looking at Jack.
‘Er . . .’ said Jack, looking at Betsy.
Betsy shrugged and squawked,
Anansi’s dad’s mouth gaped open. ‘Are you seriously telling me that we’ve just smuggled the escaped troll child out of Tale Town in a camping bag?’
Anansi, Red, Jack and Betsy nodded.
‘Have you got any idea what would have happened if we’d been caught?’ There was silence for a moment, before Mosi added, ‘Well, I can’t say I blame you. Keeping a child locked up in those stocks – it just wasn’t right.’
Anansi, Jack, Red and Betsy let out a sigh of relief as the tent bag wriggled and out popped the troll child’s head.
‘So . . . I guess I can come out now?’ he asked with a shy smile.
After he’d got over the shock, Anansi’s dad had taken the news pretty well, and went off to feed the horse and put up the tents with Betsy.
‘So your name is Quartzle?’ Red asked the troll.
The troll boy nodded. ‘But you can call me Quartz if you like.’
‘Cool!’ said Red. ‘Well, I’m Red, this is Jack and this is Anansi.’
Both boys smiled and said hello.
‘Look, it’s not that I’m not grateful . . .’ said Quartz slowly. ‘But why did you help me? I know how much humans hate trolls.’
‘Not all of us,’ started Red, but she was distracted as two trolls burst into the clearing. Quartz froze in shock as Anansi leaped up and shouted, ‘Rufaro! Mum! There you are!’
‘Mum?’ the troll boy said, his mouth hanging open. ‘Your mum is a troll?’
Anansi laughed. ‘Only in the daylight!’ Then he ran over to give his mum a huge hug.
Quartz still looked confused so Red explained: ‘Anansi’s mum and uncle have been cursed by the troll warlock Hurrilan. They used to look like trolls all the time, but now it’s only in the daylight. I guess that’s why we’re more used to being around trolls than some other people.’
‘Okaaaaaay . . .’ said Quartz slowly.
‘So what happened?’ asked Jack. ‘How did Mayor Fitch’s soldiers get you? It must have been horrible! Chained up in those stocks with no food or water . . . and what about going to the toilet?’
‘Ahem! I think what Jack is trying to say . . .’ said Red, elbowing Jack in the stomach and giving him a fierce look, ‘is are you all right?’
‘I am now!’ said Quartz. ‘Thanks to you and your friends!’
‘Oh, it was nothing,’ said Red, smiling.
‘Well, it kind of was something!’ said Jack. ‘I mean, I spent HOURS making those troll feet . . .’
‘I. Was. Being. Polite!’ hissed Red under her breath.
‘Oh. Right,’ added Jack, smiling awkwardly. ‘It was nothing. So anyway, what were you doing near Tale Town? It’s pretty much the worst place to be a troll – Mayor Fitch hates trolls!’
‘I know,’ replied Quartz. ‘All the trolls know. It was just last week that an army of his men came and set fire to my village.’
‘What?’ gasped Jack.
Quartz nodded. ‘My village was just on the edge of the trol
l lands; pretty close to a few human villages, but everything always used to be fine . . . Then last week, some soldiers turned up and said that Mayor Fitch had decided our village was actually built on human land. I don’t know why. Our village has been there for hundreds of years.’
‘What happened next?’ asked Anansi.
‘What do you think?’ said Quartz miserably. ‘We’re farmers, not fighters, and they had swords. They made us leave . . . and then a few hours later, all that was left of my village was ashes.’
‘I’m so sorry!’ said Anansi’s dad as he walked over. ‘That’s just terrible!’
‘We lost everything,’ said Quartz sadly.
squawked Betsy angrily.
Jack started to translate. ‘She said that Mayor Fitch is a stupid, sausage-faced—’
‘I know!’ interrupted Quartz. ‘I’ve no idea how I can understand her, but I do! Anyway, there’s more. One of the guards stole an amulet we’ve had in my family for years. And I wasn’t going to let them get away with that. So I sneaked out to follow them. I was trying to get it back when they caught me, and you know the rest. Now I’ve got no idea where my family are, or what I’m going to do.’
Red put her arm around Quartz’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘We’ll get you back to your family.’ She looked around at her friends. ‘Right?’
Anansi’s uncle Rufaro nodded firmly. ‘Absolutely! Fitch has gone waaaay too far this time. Let’s all get a good night’s sleep – we leave at first light.’
It turned out that first light was actually really early, and nobody was awake. Second light had long gone, and it was almost third light by the time Anansi peered out through the tent flaps to see his parents cooking breakfast while Rufaro packed up the cart.
‘Morning, sleepyhead!’ called Red who was sitting playing a card game with Quartz. ‘How come you slept so well? I couldn’t get comfy lying on the floor.’
‘I had a hammock,’ said Anansi.
‘What?’ protested Jack as he poked his head out of his tent. ‘Not fair! How come I didn’t get one?’
‘Probably because you can’t speak to spiders!’ said Anansi with a grin. ‘Thanks, guys,’ he called to a group of spiders who nodded silently back at him and started taking down the hammock that they’d spun out of spider silk.
‘Breakfast’s ready!’ called Adeola, Anansi’s mum. ‘Sausages and bacon! Come and get it!’
The children all rushed over to take their plates and sat down in a circle round the campfire.
‘How about you, Quartz?’ asked Jack through a mouthful of sausage. ‘Did you sleep all right?’
‘Yeah,’ replied Quartz. ‘Or at least I did at first . . .’ He paused for a moment.
‘Why?’ asked Red. ‘What happened?’
Quartz’s eyes went wide. ‘Well, I was lying there in my tent, when I suddenly heard this weird, rumbling, growling sound. It got louder and louder and I got more and more scared until . . .’
‘Until what?’ asked Anansi breathlessly.
‘Until I realized it was just you snoring!’ said Quartz, and everyone burst out laughing.
said Betsy unusually seriously.
‘You heard a rustling sound in the night when you needed the toilet?’ asked Jack.
‘It could have been anything,’ said Red. ‘But we should keep our eyes and ears open, just to be on the safe side.’ She looked over at Quartz’s plate which was piled high with fried tomatoes, eggs and beans but no sausages. ‘So, how come you don’t like sausages or bacon?’ she asked.
‘I just don’t like to eat pigs,’ replied Quartz.
‘Seriously?’ said Jack. ‘But trolls eat goats! I mean, come on – that’s gross!’
‘Maybe, but humans eat pigs, cows, sheep and hens!’ protested Quartz.
‘Now that’s gross!’
squawked Betsy angrily.
‘Exactly!’ agreed Quartz and then turned back to Jack. ‘I have a pet pig called Snout – Mum got her for me when I was little. She keeps my feet warm at night, and listens to my problems when I feel sad – how could anyone ever hurt a pig?’ Quartz’s eyes welled up a bit when he mentioned his home and family.
Red, Jack and Anansi looked awkwardly down at the sausages and bacon on their plates.
Jack slowly stopped chewing and swallowed everything in his mouth in one gulp before he put down his half-finished breakfast. ‘Well, I’m full!’ he exclaimed suddenly. ‘Let’s get everything packed up – the sooner we get going, the sooner we can find Quartz’s family!
The cart was all packed, the horse was readied, and soon they were on the road. The first stop was going to be the site of Quartz’s old village, so they could look for clues about where his parents and all the other trolls had gone. The only trouble was that they weren’t sure how to find it.
They’d been travelling for about half a day when they saw a grumpy-looking cat wearing a pair of battered leather boots and a long tatty coat. They explained what Fitch had done to Quartz’s village and asked if he knew where it was. The cat’s hair was matted in clumps and his eyes were cunning and bright.
‘Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t,’ he replied with a sly smile. ‘What’s it worth to you? I’ll tell you this for nothing, though: if you’re looking for that Fitch bloke, I knows a lot of folks round ’ere want a word with him. He’s been causing a right old rumpus! He tried to take over the Marquis of Carabas’s castle. Course, I sent ’im packing – ain’t no one that can outsmart me! Anyway, I got places to be, know what I mean?’ He winked and then swaggered off.
‘So is he going to help us or not?’ whispered Anansi.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Red, ‘but I always thought Puss-in-Boots would be a bit more, you know . . . charming?’
‘And a bit less grubby!’ added Jack. ‘He smelt like old cat food and bonfires!’
‘What’s that, sonny?’ growled Puss from at least thirty metres away.
Jack looked at Red in a panic.
‘Er, nothing . . . Mr In-Boots!’ called Red. ‘We were just talking about my, um, grandfather.’
‘That may be,’ growled Puss-in-Boots as he turned around menacingly. ‘But remember this. I ain’t the kind of kitty to play around . . .’ He broke off, distracted by a bright beam of sunlight shining down on to the forest floor, and pounced on the light, trying to catch it with his paws.
‘Wait a minute!’ whispered Anansi. ‘I’ve had an idea!’ He rummaged around in the bags until he found a saucer and a bottle of milk. Then he clinked the bottle against the small plate. Puss-in-Boots looked up sharply and trotted over expectantly, his eyes locked on the milk bottle.
‘Not so fast!’ said Anansi with a smile. ‘First you tell us where the troll village is.’
‘Why, you sly old devil!’ gasped Puss-in-Boots, then he winked. ‘You remind me of myself at your age . . . Fair enough, it’s a deal.’
While he was lapping up the milk, Puss told them exactly where the village was and how to get there. The children thanked him and the cart creaked off down the road. But nobody noticed the bushes rustling behind them as someone else ducked down out of view . . .
They travelled all day, making camp as evening fell and setting off again early the next morning. It was a long way to Quartz’s village, and would take ages to get there.
Everywhere they went, they heard more stories about Mayor Fitch and how he’d been bullying people. It was the non-humans that he always seemed to pick on: talking trees, fairies, giants and dragons. None of them liked him, not even the super-friendly, rainbow-coloured unicorns from the Happy-Funshine Woodland – and they liked everyone.
The sun was low in the sky as they pulled up the cart and started to make camp for their second night on the road when out sprang a mean-faced little man with a short beard and pointy ears.
‘Found you I have, I knew that I would!’ he chanted in a sing-song voice which made everyone groan. ‘Will you play my riddle? I think that you should!’ It was Rumplestilts
kin.
‘But we know what your riddle will be!’ said Jack with a sigh. ‘It’s always the same!’
The little man smiled unpleasantly and twirled his beard between his fingers.
‘Is that a no, or is that yes?
Answer me true, you must not guess!’
He paused and added in his normal voice. ‘Actually, can you do me a favour and sign this contract first? I’ve been told that I need to make things more official – you know, health and safety gone mad!’
Red shook her head impatiently as she took the pen he was holding and signed the contract. ‘OK, go on then. Yes, we’ll play your riddle!’
Rumplestiltskin grinned.
‘My riddle is this: You’ll face no blame If you can just tell me my name,
But if you can’t, then you’ll face strife, As you will be my SLAVES FOR LIFE!’
Then he cackled, and capered and cartwheeled around, looking very pleased with himself.
‘Your. Name. Is. RUMPLESTILTSKIN!’ shouted all the children together.
‘No it’s not!’ replied Rumplestiltskin, bursting with fizzy excitement.
‘Yes it is!’ replied Red. ‘You asked us the same riddle about three weeks ago!’
‘I changed it!’ cackled Rumplestiltskin. ‘Now my name is Nigel, and you know what? It just feels so much more me!’ He smiled happily. ‘Anyway, now you’re all my slaves for life! So to start off you can, let me see . . . carry me over to that comfortable-looking tree trunk, cook me dinner and then one of you can trim my toenails.’ He peeled off one shoe to reveal the most gnarled, yellow and fungus-covered toenails that any of them had ever seen.
they all cried.
‘I’m afraid so,’ cackled the little man. ‘Of course, if you’d guessed correctly, I’d have had to do you a favour – but you knew the deal.’ He held up the contract Red had just signed, and pointed to the signature. ‘So tough luck!’ He jabbed Rufaro in the belly and said, ‘Over to the tree trunk, if you please! I haven’t got all day.’
