The Story Tree

by Tom Percival

  ‘So . . . what if there’s no bridge?’ finished Jack, waving his stick with a flourish. ‘Together with Wilf and his dragon, you can burn down the bridge and then the trolls won’t be able to get here. At least, not without going a really long way around – which will take ages!’

  ‘You know, that might actually work,’ said Anansi excitedly. ‘We’ll have to move quickly though if they’re coming at dawn.’

  Professor Hendricks leaned forward to take the stick from Jack and began scratching words out on the ground. This was how the gorillas communicated. They were all incredibly clever, but couldn’t actually speak. Everyone looked down eagerly to see what words of wisdom the professor was writing.

  ‘I’M A BIT PECKISH. DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY OF THOSE LOVELY COCONUT BISCUITS LEFT?’

  As well as being clever, the gorillas were nearly always hungry.

  ‘In the storage cupboard,’ said Rapunzel briskly. ‘Top shelf, on the right.’ She tutted under her breath as the professor lumbered off. ‘Honestly, why doesn’t he just go and look for himself?’

  ‘So . . . about the plan?’ said Jack.

  ‘It’s great!’ said Red, beaming. ‘We’ll go and stop the trolls with Wilf and then you guys can rescue Wolfie!’

  ‘Well that all sounds OK –’ began Hansel.

  ‘– but how are we going to find Wilf?’ finished Gretel.

  ‘The spells we got from Lily,’ said Jack, brandishing a blue glass bottle. ‘We’ve got a “spell of summoning” here!’

  ‘Cool!’ whispered Ella.

  ‘And a “spell of shocking”!’

  ‘Ooooh!’ exclaimed Anansi.

  ‘And a “spell of spelling”!’

  ‘How’s that going to help us here?’ interrupted Rapunzel.

  ‘Well, perhaps it won’t,’ said Jack defensively, ‘but I’ve always found spelling some words a bit difficult. Anyway, there’s also a “spell of scattering”, “scorching”, “searching”, “sheltering”, “smashing” and “skill”.’ He paused, and then added, ‘Lily could only find the key to the “Spells beginning with S” cupboard.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ said Red. ‘With all that, and the five of you, Mayor Fitch’s guards don’t stand a chance. Wolfie’s going to be back with us in no time! Let’s summon Wilf and his dragon and get going!’

  ‘Arghhhhhh!’ yelled Jack as he sprinted down the corridors of Mayor Fitch’s palace. Hansel was just behind him, and zipping through the air alongside was Ella’s Fairy Godbrother, Cole. They were also both screaming. Betsy was flapping along too, as fast as she could.

  This probably seems like a bad way to try to sneak in somewhere to rescue your friend, but they’d already done the sneaking-around bit and it hadn’t really worked out.

  It all started well enough when Jack had planted one of his magic beanstalks outside Fitch’s palace,1 and then Ella, Hansel, Gretel, Cole, Jack and Betsy had all crept in through an open window on the fourth floor.

  They’d used the ‘spell of sheltering’ to be able to move around the castle without being seen and everything had seemed to be working . . . at first. Using the ‘spell of searching’ they easily found their way to the dungeons where Wolfie was being held. They called out to Wolfie through the door but he just lay there curled up on his bed, covered in blankets and whimpering. Ella rummaged around in her tangled hair, pulled out a lock-picking kit and got to work. A few seconds later the door swung open as Ella and Gretel crept into the cell, but as they pulled back the blankets, they saw that Wolfie had a blindfold covering his eyes and ears.

  Suddenly one of Fitch’s guards burst out from behind a hidden door, grabbed Wolfie, Gretel and Ella, then dragged them all away, before slamming the cell door, leaving Hansel, Jack, Cole and Betsy outside.

  ‘Quick!’ shouted Hansel. ‘Use the “spell of smashing” to break down the door!’

  Jack pulled out a glass vial and drank it in one swig.

  ‘Dodecahedron!’ he shouted dramatically.

  ‘Is that part of the spell?’ said Cole, looking around anxiously. ‘Nothing’s happening yet!’

  ‘A three-dimensional shape with twelve sides,’ said Jack, looking confused, and then spelled out D, O, D, E, C, A, H, E, D, R, O, N slowly and clearly.

  ‘Wrong spell!’ groaned Hansel.

  ‘That was the “spelling spell”!’ added Cole.

  ‘I knew I should have labelled them!’ muttered Jack, pulling out another bottle.

  ‘Wait a minute . . .’ said Hansel. ‘Let’s just try opening it first.’ He stepped forward and pushed at the main jail door, which swung slowly, creakily open. Hansel grinned at Jack as they crept into the cell and then tried the small hidden door inside there. That also opened and Jack was just about to say, ‘Well, this is going to be easy!’ when four of the largest, most ferocious guard dogs he had ever seen burst out. So he didn’t say that. He just screamed and ran away as fast as he could.

  ‘Arghhhhhh!’ yelled Jack as he sprinted down the corridors of Mayor Fitch’s palace, followed by Hansel, Betsy and Cole. In a blind panic Jack pulled out a spell at random. It was the ‘spell of scattering’; perhaps that would make the pack of dogs break up? He drank the whole bottle and there was an intense flare of light and smoke. As it cleared, Jack could still hear the snarling dogs just behind him, but none of his friends. It was them who had been scattered.

  ‘These spells could really do with some sort of instructions,’ he thought as he ran on alone. He pulled out another bottle – the ‘spell of scorching’ – and eyed it warily. Hopefully it would scorch the dogs, or the floor, so that they couldn’t run on it. But what if it didn’t work like that? By now the dogs were right behind him, so he decided to just go for it. The magic tasted smoky and hot, rasping on his tongue as it slipped down his throat.

  ‘GAhhhhhhhHHHHhh!’ yelled Jack, feeling incredibly hot as all his clothes started smouldering.

  ‘Seriously?’ he thought. Why would anyone want a spell that made them scorched?

  As Jack sprinted down the corridor he left thick trails of smoke behind him, which at least distracted the dogs for a moment.

  But only for a moment . . .

  Soon they were back after him. Their teeth snapped at his ankles and spittle swung around their slathering jaws. Jack’s heart was thumping and his legs were aching – he was a fast runner, but the dogs showed no sign of stopping, or even slowing. There was no choice but to try the ‘spell of smashing’ and just hope that it wasn’t going to smash him. Nervously he took the bottle out, yanked off the top and drank it. Suddenly he felt incredibly strong. His muscles seemed to be working by themselves as he ran. Cracks appeared on the stone slabs as his feet struck the ground. This was more like it! He carried on, his feet pounding harder and harder. Clouds of dust and broken shards of rock started flying out from beneath him. The loud crashing noise made the dogs nervous and they slowed down as Jack ran on, his feet hammering like pistons until, all of a sudden, the ground behind him gave way and tumbled down, leaving a wide gap that even the most crazed of devil dogs wouldn’t try to jump over.

  Furiously the dogs skidded to a halt and howled at Jack, who turned for a moment and laughed at them.

  He’d made it! He was going to get out!

  Then his heart sank. Maybe . . . but he was also completely alone. What had happened to his friends?

  4

  The sun was starting to rise as Anansi swung under the bridge that spanned Quidgely’s Pass on a long thread of spider silk. Anansi had the power to speak with spiders and ask them for help whenever he needed it. Like when he needed some spider silk to swing from, or if he found a jar that he just couldn’t open – spiders are surprisingly good at that sort of thing.

  The wind rushed past Anansi’s ears as he swung across and if he hadn’t been on a top secret and VERY dangerous mission he would have laughed out loud. But he was on a top secret and VERY dangerous mission, so he stayed quiet. Although he did allow himself a tiny, silent smile a
s he found what looked like the perfect place on the bridge and painted a big red cross on the wooden struts. Then he swung back towards Wilf, Red and Rapunzel.

  After they’d used the spell of summoning to call Wilf it had taken no time at all to convince him to help, and not much longer for his dragon, Destiny, to fly them to Quidgely’s Pass.

  ‘Nearly there now, Missy!’ Wilf bellowed, even though Red had told him at least fifteen times that they were outlaws and this was a very secret mission. The trouble with Wilf was that he seemed to be incapable of using anything less than his outdoors voice. Actually, it was more like his cheering-on-the-local-football-team-when-they’ve-just-scored voice. Still, they needed his help, so they just tried to get him to say as little as possible.

  Red had hit upon the idea of asking Wilf’s dragon, Destiny, to burn down the bridge so the trolls wouldn’t be able to get across the ravine and attack Tale Town. That would be it – problem solved!

  Rapunzel had seemed a bit uneasy at the thought of burning down the only bridge leading to Tale Town from the north, as it seemed a teeny bit, well . . . naughty. But Red and Anansi had insisted that it was the only thing they could do: otherwise there would be a full-scale troll army attacking Tale Town. And wasn’t one burned-down bridge a bit less bad than a war?

  Rapunzel had supposed that perhaps it was . . .

  When they landed near the bridge to take a closer look, Wilf explained that Destiny actually had a bit of a sore throat so they’d need to find some hot honey and lemon for her – as well as ideally a few hundred cough sweets too. Also, it would be good if they could find the best spot for her to aim at on the bridge and paint a target for her. Preferably something simple, like a big red cross. After all, her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be.

  So that was why Anansi was swinging along under the bridge while Rapunzel and Red went running through the nearby woods trying to ‘borrow’ as much honeycomb as they could from some very irritable bees. Every time they went back to Wilf he sent them out for more, saying things like, ‘Destiny’s a dragon, not a guinea pig! We need a lot more lemons than that!’ or ‘Any luck with the cough sweets yet?’

  ‘No, Wilf,’ said Rapunzel flatly. ‘We’re in the middle of a wood. Remember? We’re lucky enough to find lemons growing here. I don’t think there’re going to be any cough-sweet trees nearby. Do you?’

  ‘Hmm, that is a shame!’ said Wilf, looking anxiously at Destiny and the tin bath full of honey and lemon heating up over a campfire.

  ‘See, without the cough sweets I’m not sure we’ll get the old girl’s fire-breath back!’

  ‘You really could have mentioned that before we agreed the plan!’ muttered Rapunzel under her breath.

  Red had just come back from her most recent trip into the woods with thirty-eight lemons, twelve large chunks of honeycomb and three bee stings when an arrow whistled through the air towards them. They looked over to the far side of Quidgely’s Pass as the first lookout of a huge troll army approached. They didn’t seem to be in a very friendly mood.

  ‘Quick!’ shouted Rapunzel. ‘We need to do this now!’

  Destiny ducked her head down towards the tin bath full of honey and lemon and drank the whole lot in one go. Then she sprang into the air on her huge muscular legs and banked sharply round so that she was facing the bridge. Wilf steered her towards the cross that Anansi had painted and as they got closer he shouted, ‘Fire it up!’ and patted the dragon on the side of her neck.

  Destiny took a deep breath, opened her mouth as wide as she could and then out burst . . . nothing.

  ‘Er, now would be a good time for the fire!’ yelped Anansi as an arrow shot past, just missing him.

  ‘Give her a chance!’ said Wilf. ‘Destiny don’t like to feel under pressure.’

  ‘I’m sure she doesn’t!’ said Rapunzel. ‘But if she doesn’t breathe fire soon then we’re all going to be feeling under pressure, and spears, arrows and lots of other sharp things – look!’

  She pointed up at the troll army who were approaching the edge of the ravine and aiming weapons down towards them.

  Destiny banked round and soared high into the sky, preparing for another run. As she did so, an arrow shot upward, tearing through the thin membrane of her right wing. She faltered for a moment, then swept down so that she was flying alongside the bridge. Arrows, rocks and all sorts of hard, sharp and unwanted things flew down towards them, but Destiny curled, weaved and dodged round all of them, opening her mouth wide and breathing in before finally sending out a huge torrent of burning flame that struck Anansi’s target. The flames took immediately and it wasn’t long before the whole bridge was alight. Destiny flew back and they landed on their side of the pass – safely out of range of the trolls’ angry shouts and, more importantly, their weapons.

  ‘Yes!’ shouted Anansi, punching the air. ‘We did it!’ He looked around at his friends, and saw Red and Rapunzel smiling, their faces reflecting the warm red glow of the flames. Wilf was bending over Destiny’s wing, inspecting it. The tear from the arrow had grown bigger and ran almost to the tip.

  ‘You all right, my darlin’?’ Wilf asked the dragon, who looked over and nodded.

  ‘You’re a brave one, and no mistake!’ he said, ruffling the scales on the back of her neck. ‘All the same, you ain’t flying anywhere until we get that looked at. You hear me?’

  The dragon nodded glumly.

  ‘Sorry, folks,’ said Wilf. ‘Looks like you’ll be walkin’ home. I need to get the old girl fixed up.’

  ‘But . . . she’ll be OK, won’t she?’ asked Red, stroking Destiny’s snout.

  ‘Oh, aye! She’ll be fine. She’s seen worse!’ The dragon nodded again, looking braver as Red gave Wilf a big hug.

  ‘Thanks for your help,’ she said. ‘I knew we could count on you!’

  ‘Well, what can I say? It was my Destiny, really!’ Wilf waved goodbye to Red and her friends, and then turned to lead the dragon into the shelter of the woods.

  Red’s mirror pinged and she flipped it open to see Quartz’s face looking back at her.

  ‘I think that worked!’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know for certain, but everyone definitely seems very annoyed! Well done!’

  Then his image faded away and the mirror showed Red’s reflection again.

  ‘Right then!’ said Rapunzel. ‘Let’s get back to the hideout. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we tell them we stopped an entire troll army!’

  5

  Mayor Fitch sat on a big, gold throne, in a big, gold room, holding a big, gold picture of himself, painted in gold. He nodded approvingly: it was a good painting. He was about to pass it over to a member of his private guard to hang on the gold wall when he paused. Perhaps he could encourage everyone to have one of these paintings in their homes, to remind them of all he had done for them?

  Fitch sat happily back in his gold throne. Sure, it was a bit uncomfortable, but it was made of gold! If you wanted a normal comfy chair then you could have one, just like all the other peasants. He shuddered slightly as he thought about the ordinary people. To think that for all these years everyone had just been using the Story Tree whenever they felt like it – Tale Town’s most precious gift given away to any old fool, for free! It was shocking! He smiled as he thought about his secret plan to stop everyone else but him using the Story Tree. And if the people of Tale Town didn’t like it – he’d banish them.

  ‘Mayor Fitch, sir?’ called a voice, cutting through his thoughts.

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘We have news on the wall, sir.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s er, ready, sir. It’s not quite fully built yet, but all the machinery inside is working perfectly. We just tested it on one of the troll prisoners and now he’s powerless and we can use all his magic!’

  ‘Well, that’s just marvellous!’ purred Fitch, rubbing his podgy fingers together. ‘When those ghastly green beasts escaped from their Secret Mountain I felt . . .’

>   ‘Er, some of the trolls are blue, sir,’ said the guard. Fitch said nothing and glared at him. The guard looked a bit uneasy but carried on talking. ‘Yes, that’s right, sir. Blue, sir. And some of them are purple too. It’s only actually the earth trolls that are green, and even then, a lot of them are a sort of grey colour. In fact, it’s quite fascinating . . .’

  ‘Guards!’ yelled Fitch as the man in front of him looked up, surprised. ‘Arrest this man. He’s a traitor and is to be banished.’

  ‘Banished, sir?’ asked one of the other guards who had just run in.

  ‘Yes! Banished!’ barked Fitch. ‘You know, made to leave!’

  ‘Well, I know what “banished” means, sir, it’s just that . . .well, that’s Frank. He’s been your most loyal guard for fifteen years.’

  ‘I’m aware of who he is,’ said Fitch, glaring unpleasantly down at the guard who had just spoken. ‘Just do it!’ He paused and then said, ‘Actually, one more thing. When you’ve banished him . . .’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Then banish yourself!’ Fitch smiled triumphantly. ‘Now, off you trot, both of you!’ He circled his fingers to call over a couple of his especially unpleasant bodyguards and smiled as the two confused new traitors were dragged backwards out of the throne room.

  ‘Right,’ he said, clapping his hands together lightly. ‘On to the trolls! The wall is in place, so I propose we get started. I think we need a real test of our new equipment. Hefferson!’