Princess BMX

by Marie Basting

  He opened a thin plastic case which had a picture of sweaty people dancing on it. ‘That’s what I was looking for,’ he said, taking out the metal disc and slotting it into the car control panel. ‘I’ve missed me German techno.’

  Oh my giddy goblin, what was this racket? The Godfather held his finger on the volume button and the tiny car began to shake, the drumbeat pulsing through my body and making my teeth chatter.

  Zingy electronic notes pinged around the car like gunfire. I stuck my fingers in my ears, willing the torture to stop.

  Just as I was losing the will to live completely, the car screeched to a stop and I lurched forward. I pulled my fingers out of my ears and peeled open an eye.

  ‘Out yer get,’ said the Godfather, switching off the music. ‘Go on, yer mother’s waiting for yer on the other side.’

  I stepped out on to the pavement. ‘But where am I?’

  The Godfather rolled his eyes. ‘Down the stairs,’ he said, pointing to a gap in the wall. ‘Turn left when you get to the bottom and ride as fast as you can with no stopping. You’ll know the portal when you see it.’

  He took his wand out and pointed it towards the back of the car. My BMX clanged to the floor.

  ‘But aren’t you coming?’

  ‘’Course not,’ the Godfather said. ‘It’s teatime, and I’ve got a date with a metre-long hotdog at Camden Market. Then I’m off to see Kev about this stirring in his chakra crystals.’

  ‘Pardon?’ The Godfather was talking in riddles again.

  ‘Never you mind,’ he said, tapping his nose. ‘Ask your mother about Kevin. Or on second thoughts, maybe not.’

  Whatever! He was so annoying. Next he’d be spouting the stupid nursery rhyme again.

  He turned on the engine. ‘See you around, Maggot. And don’t forget to secure the portal. We don’t want anyone else following you through.’

  Jumping jelly beans, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to portal travel. I’d mastered the landing – I hardly ever hurt my bum now – but I still felt like I’d been inside a candyfloss machine every time I went through the gateway. I leant back against the giant stone fireplace in the banqueting room, willing the swaying to stop.

  Through the fingers of violet mist, I saw a figure. A figure with bizarrely big hair. Troll poop! It was Mum.

  ‘Avariella,’ she said. ‘You’ve been a very naughty girl.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know—’

  The giant gong in the Grand Hall boinged, its vibrations echoing through the floor. Rapid footsteps joined the echoes.

  ‘Save it, sweetie.’ Mum wheeled my BMX behind the pile of stacked banqueting chairs and pulled me towards the spiral staircase. ‘We’ve got a meeting to spy on.’

  From the balcony above the Council Chambers we had a perfect view of the platform where Dad and the ten knights of the Tavolo Rettangolare were holding their meeting.

  ‘What’s Tufty Troutbottom doing here?’ Mum said, widening the gap in the plush velvet curtains.

  Good question. Tufty is famous throughout the kingdom for being the seventh descendent of the Seventh Dwarf. Dad says he makes far too big a deal about this. Personally, I don’t like to judge but, put it this way, all of Tufty’s seven children are called Snow White. The dwarf was perched on an umpire stool at the far end of the table, his legs dangling uncomfortably above the foot bar. He crossed his arms over his pudding-shaped belly and bowed his head at Dad.

  ‘Welcome, Tufty.’ Dad pointed his quill at his chief knight. ‘Louseylot, please commence.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’ Sir Louseylot had obviously had his hair done again. It was all glossy and bouncy. He held up a gold-framed painting. ‘Is this the woman you saw, Tufty?’

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  ‘Speak up, man.’ Dad rested his elbows on the mahoosive polished wood table and leant forward.

  Tufty stroked his long white beard ‘Yes, sire. I swear on Eric here’s life, it was her.’ He fumbled in his pocket and took out a long mouse-like animal which he held up in the air.

  ‘Put the weasel away, Tufty!’ Dad looked out at the rows of empty pews below the platform. ‘Now tell me again what occurred.’

  ‘Well, I was out at the cornfields beyond the Black Forest. My old hip was playing up. I’m two hundred and two, you know.’

  ‘Yes. And what happened at the cornfields?’

  ‘It was breakfast time. I knows it because my stomach was rumbling. I have to eat regular because of my ulcer—’

  ‘Tufty.’

  Tufty leant forward. He scratched his ankle and Eric the weasel popped out of his trouser leg. He caught him by the tail and put him back in his pocket.

  ‘I smelt somethin’, I did,’ he continued. ‘Something sweet. I thoughts my old mind was playing tricks on me. But then I saw ’im, Alun, the sherbet dragon. I waved—’

  ‘Time is precious, Tufty, please.’

  ‘Sorry, sire. The dragon was with the Black Sorceress.’

  All of the knights started to talk at once. ‘Order, gentlemen!’ Dad banged his fist on the table and the knights were silent again. ‘Are you sure, Tufty?’ he continued.

  ‘Oh, yes, sire. Absolutely. She was wearing funny clothes, but I’d recognize the Lady Odette anywheres.’

  Odette. I grabbed Mum’s arm. That was the name of the creepy woman from the Other World.

  Dad broke the silence by shuffling his papers. ‘Thank you, Tufty,’ he said. ‘That will be all. Please remember that your discretion in this matter is much appreciated. It is essential that we do not cause unnecessary alarm.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry ’bout that,’ Tufty said, looking at his feet. ‘Don’t see a soul for days sometimes. Nobody bothers to visit old Tufty.’

  Dad glared at Periwinkle, who rushed over to escort Tufty from the chambers. Their footsteps echoing in the rafters, they made their way between the carved stone columns and out of the door.

  ‘That’s the second reported sighting, sire,’ said Sir Louseylot. Both completely independent of each other. I’ll alert the Fairy Council.’

  ‘No.’ Dad pressed the tips of his fingers together. ‘The sighting has not yet been confirmed.’

  ‘But sire, what with the bluestone awakening—’

  Bluestone? Wasn’t that what Mum and Dad were arguing about in the carriage? Mum’s eyes gave nothing away.

  ‘These things happen in cycles.’ Dad pushed away his papers. The increased activity could just be the stone regulating itself.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’ Sir Louseylot glanced around the table. ‘But with your permission perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have their people on the lookout for your sister.’

  Like, what! My ears must be broken. I turned to Mum, but she shook her head and pushed me into the shadow of the wall.

  ‘Not now,’ she said.

  I wasn’t going to argue. She looked about as happy as a teenage ogre who’d been forced to take a shower.

  ‘Oh, Bertrand,’ she called, pulling the curtain back dramatically. ‘It’s time to wake up and smell the wart blossom.’

  Dad’s throne scraped against the wooden floor. His troll-poop face was a classic.

  ‘You know Odette has always had a fascination with that dragon,’ Mum continued. ‘Everyone knows it was her silly games that messed up his sherbet valve.’

  ‘Really, Sophia. How many times must I say it? The portals were sealed. There is no way my sister could have returned.’

  I stared at Mum, suddenly cold. So, it was true. The creepy woman really was my auntie! How could they keep something like this from me?

  ‘Oh, there’s always a way,’ she continued. ‘Believe me.’

  ‘Balderdash! Your words have no substance.’

  ‘You’re a fool, Bertrand.’

  ‘Sophia! I will hear no more of this matter.’

  ‘A fool. And a fool and his kingdom are soon parted.’

  The knights suddenly seemed very interested in the tabletop. Some of them were holding in sniggers. />
  Mum chopped the air with her hand. ‘So, when you’re ready, sweetcheeks, I could do with a word. In private!’

  I found Mum eventually in the far corner of the library, the rolling ladder used to reach the highest bookshelves just behind her. She looked up from the leather-bound logbook she was reading and slammed it shut.

  ‘I hope you’re happy, young lady. Because your father’s most certainly not.’

  Here we go. I knew I should have just put my BMX away in my closet and gone to bed. I crossed my arms and prepared myself for the earbashing. But Mum just did her disappointed stare. It’s the same disappointed stare all grownups do when they want to make you feel guilty.

  ‘We have to tell him,’ I said pulling a chair out and sitting down opposite Mum.

  ‘Tell him what.’

  ‘Odette, she’s been following me.’

  ‘You’ll say nothing, young lady. Your father is furious enough as it is. If he finds out I’ve been allowing you to use the portal too, I’ll never hear the last of it.’

  I touched my throat. ‘You knew?’

  ‘Of course I knew. Who do you think told Nigel to give you your bicycle? Nothing gets past my Other World surveillance.’

  I coughed. I mean, what about Odette for a start?

  ‘I didn’t have the heart to stop you,’ she continued. ‘What with that terrible Hornet-Boules and your dad breathing down your neck every five minutes.’ She leant across the desk and took my hand. ‘I know what it feels like to need that escape. Your father is not an easy man.’

  Like, hello. Ten out of ten for observation, Mother.

  ‘That’s why I asked Nigel to open the portal in the first place. Still amazes me he managed to break the charm. Just shows what a man can achieve when driven by the offer of a royal appointment and an unlimited supply of squirrel.’

  Mum turned back to her logbook. She ran her index finger over the gold letters that spelt out the title: The Protectors. The book shrank to the size of a matchbox. She put it in her pocket.

  ‘But you were supposed to follow the rules. The Godfather assures me, he spelt them out clearly.’

  Mum pointed her finger at me and started to spout the same daft nursery rhyme the Godfather had spouted when he gave me my bike:

  It starts with a kick,

  A kick of the heel,

  With a bit of spit, it opens no big deal,

  But do make sure to secure it again,

  By tapping twice and counting to ten.

  I felt a funny feeling in my tummy.

  ‘Honestly,’ Mum continued, ‘if there’s one thing you should be used to it’s following rules.’

  The funny feeling grew worse. I’d thought it was just a silly Godfather thing – the magic love their daft rhymes and traditions. ‘But Mum, I didn’t realize . . .’

  ‘You never do, Avariella. But realize this. I don’t want you going anywhere near that portal again.’

  ‘But what about Ethan?’

  ‘No buts. Odette is dangerous. We have reason to believe this is not her first trip through the portal. I want you here where I can keep an eye on you.’

  I shook my head and huffed. ‘

  And don’t look at me that way, missy. You brought this on yourself with your carelessness.’

  ‘Well, maybe if someone had told me I had an EVIL auntie running around in the Other World, I’d have been more careful.’

  ‘I seriously doubt it, Avariella. Your listening skills have never been your strong point. You have to learn to take responsibility for your actions.’

  Ouch! Like, say it how it is, Mum. Next she’d be throwing the expectations at me like Dad and Hornet-Boules. Well, there were things I expected too – the truth, for a start. I mean, Odette, the Other World and now all this talk of some weird bluestone, what else had they been keeping from me?

  ‘Oh, don’t get upset, sweetie.’ Mum’s voice was softer now. ‘I suppose you’ve just sped up the inevitable, really. Odette was always going to come back and take her revenge on your father for banishing her.’

  What was the point? As usual Mum just didn’t get it.

  ‘Don’t worry, your dad might be trying to keep it all low-key, but Nigel and Kevin are on the case. They’ll have Odette rounded up and packed off again before you know it. Kevin can do marvellous things with those chakra crystals of his. He once tracked a stray ogre right across the Sahara Desert without anyone in the Other World raising an eyelid. Herbert, his name was. Herbert the Hungry.’

  Yeah, right. If this Kevin was half as dim as the Godfather, we were seriously doomed.

  ‘Now off you go.’ Mum made a sweeping motion with her hand. ‘You just stay out of trouble and leave things to my boys. And I mean it, Avariella. Stay away from the portal or I’ll feed you to Herbert the Hungry myself.’

  I wrapped the blanket around my legs, the flickering oil lamp casting long shadows around my chambers. I stared down at the BMX book I’d borrowed from Ethan. I must have read the same line about ten times now. It just wasn’t going in. I thought about getting back in bed, but there was like zero point. No way was I going back to sleep with everything that was whirling around in my head. And now on top of Mum and Dad’s skeletons, I was banned from going to the Kingdom of Camden. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get Mum to change her mind.

  I sighed and pulled back the velvet drape. The first sun was beginning to rise and the sky was the colour of blueberries. I looked out across the shadowy kingdom – the kingdom that would one day be mine. I’d never felt so lonely in my life. I really needed a cuddle from Jeb, but Mum said he wasn’t allowed to sleep in my room for a month as part of my punishment for not sealing the portal. How could she do that to us? Poor Jeb. He looked so sad going to bed with grumpy Bertie. He just didn’t understand.

  Ethan wouldn’t understand either. I couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking I’d just given up on our friendship. Or what if he thought something bad had happened to me? He’d be so worried. I had to go and see him one more time, tell him the truth, even if he didn’t believe me—

  Footsteps thundered along the corridor outside my chambers. A fist thumped against my bedroom door.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Lady Jemima Jeopardy here, Your Highness.

  The King asked me to check on you.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I like so didn’t need a knight in my room right now.

  ‘I’m to take you downstairs immediately,’ she said.

  I climbed down from the window seat and fastened my dressing gown.

  ‘Immediately,’ she repeated.

  More footsteps, this time they were accompanied by urgent voices.

  ‘Ma’am, I’m coming in.’

  Sword in one hand, her unicorn-embossed shield in the other, Lady Jemima Jeopardy kicked the door open and stormed into the room her thick, waist-length plaits swinging from side to side. She touched my arm like she was making sure I was real, then searched under the bed and in the closet. Scanning the room, she ran over to the window and poked the curtains with her sword.

  ‘Sorry to alarm you, Your Highness,’ she said, straightening her silver helmet. ‘Only there’s been a security breach.’

  ‘In the castle?’ How was that even possible? Nothing could get past the security charm – family and invited guests only.

  ‘Yes, Your Highness, in the castle. Your parents are waiting in the study. Hurry, please.’

  And then it hit me like the stench of Swamp Diavolo – thanks to me there was a new family member in town. Odette.

  ‘Bertie and Jeb,’ I said, the words catching in my throat. ‘We need to check on them.’

  Lady Jemima Jeopardy blew her blonde fringe out of her eyes. ‘My instructions are to take you straight downstairs.’

  This didn’t look good. There were guards all along the corridor. None of them would look at me. I glanced past them, towards Bertie’s chambers, where there were fairies in white coats dusting down the door frame with a violet powder.
Through the gap in the door, I caught a glimpse of the Godfather’s silver jumpsuit. I put my head down and sped along the corridor to the study.

  In the dim light of the French windows, Mum and Dad looked almost ghostly. Mum was wearing her long green dressing gown, Doreen curled up in her teddy-bear pyjamas at her feet. My tummy churned like the buttermaid’s barrel – Mum never came downstairs in her nightclothes. Louseylot was in the study too. They were bending over the table looking at a map, Dad barking out orders.

  ‘Make haste,’ he said. ‘Raise the alarm across the kingdom.’

  ‘Your Highness.’ Sir Louseylot bowed his head at me. His armour clanking, he opened the French windows and made his way towards the stables.

  ‘Oh Ava, thank goodness.’

  I pulled away from Mum’s bear hug. ‘Please, Mum. Where are Bertie and Jeb—’

  Thwack! The heavy wooden door slammed against the wall, and Great-aunt Maude forced her walking frame into the room.

  ‘She’s taken them,’ she yelled. ‘Little Bertie and the curly dog.’ Maude, who to Dad’s obvious horror was wearing just her long lacy knickerbockers and a corset, rummaged around in the pillowcase hanging from her wooden walking frame and pulled out her jam jar.

  ‘See? The eye, it’s weeping.’

  ‘Mum?’ But already I knew it was true.

  Mum nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Avariella.’

  What had I done?

  Maude gave me a sad, gummy smile. ‘They’re OK,’ she said. ‘Now, help me, Umbrella.’

  I scurried over to Maude. She handed me the bright-pink pet-carry bag that was over her shoulder. It looked very Other World.

  ‘Wait, and this.’

  Screwing up my nose, I took the jam jar. Like, eugh! The eye was swollen to twice its normal size, and angry red veins laced the white fleshy bit. The fluid that surrounded the eyeball was tinged pink.

  ‘Put it on the table,’ Maude said, pushing her walking frame across the room towards Dad. With her beige hairnet and no teeth in, she looked disturbingly like Bertie’s tortoise-seat.

  The warning bell in the North Tower rang out, triggering the sounding of bells across the kingdom. Dad pushed the jam jar away and shook his head. ‘Sharp as ever, Aunt Maude, I see.’