Yes, Ethan. Tall skinny dude with mad sticky-up hair. Tall skinny dude from the Other World! Here in Biscotti. I was so in for it.
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back into the bushes. ‘You have to go back. Now!’
‘Nice to see you too,’ Ethan said, edging his bike forward. He pulled a twig covered in silver-star blossom from the spokes.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan. But if my mum catches you here, we’ve both had it.’
‘What’s going on, Ava? What is this place?’
‘No time to explain. You just have to trust me. It’s too dangerous for you here.’
Ethan scratched the back of his neck. ‘Is this one of your weird role-playing things, because if it is, I’m not happy.’
‘Just go home, Ethan.’
Ethan caught hold of my T-shirt. ‘And how exactly am I supposed to do that?’
I pulled free from his grip but I stayed put. I mean, he kind of had a point. I wasn’t sure I could find my way out of the forest either.
‘How did you get here, Ethan?’
‘I followed that Godfather bloke. I was worried, the way he dragged you away like that, so I went to tell the others. See if they’d help me look for you. I saw him near Camden Lock and followed him along the canal. That’s when it got really weird. Like, what’s going on, Ava?’
I sighed. ‘Do you really want to know? Because you won’t believe me.’
Ethan nodded.
‘OK. You’ve travelled through a portal to a different world where my brother’s been captured by a dark sorceress who also happens to be my EVIL auntie. She like totally hates my dad and is seeking revenge because he banished her. It’s the biggest thing that’s happened in Biscotti since my grandad destroyed the purple yeti.’
‘What? Have you lost it altogether!’
‘Told you you wouldn’t believe me.’ I took the chocolate limes out of my pocket. ‘Sweet? I should probably save them for my unicorn really, but we need to keep our energy up.’
Friends, Biscottians, countrymen lend me your ear plugs please! Ethan was totally doing my head in. He just couldn’t get his head around the whole magic thing and was spewing out questions like a bewitched porridge pot. All that time lost chasing those stupid lights and now I was wasting more time trying to convince Ethan we weren’t playing some sort of virtual reality game. I had to get to my brother. And fast.
Like things weren’t hard enough with the mud, the monster tree roots and Ethan’s constant assault on my ears, I now had Doreen in my rucksack. She’d been slowing me down too much, stopping every two minutes to eat the wild garlic that grew in the gaps between the trees. The stuff was everywhere. Its pungent scent tickled my nose and made my eyes water.
‘Are you OK?’ Ethan said, pulling his bike up beside me.
‘Fine. I’ve just got sensitive eyes – it’s a princess thing.’
Ethan shook his head. He still didn’t believe my story – despite the fact he’d arrived here by portal!
‘Hey look at this tree.’ He slowed and reached up to touch one of the branches trailing above our heads.
With their downy leaves, they reminded me of feather boas. If I wasn’t on a mission to save my brother from my EVIL auntie, I’d have broken one off and worn it around my neck.
‘Come on, Ethan,’ I said. ‘I told you. We need to hurry.’
Ethan saluted me. ‘Let us make haste, fair maiden.’
Like, whatever. I rode on. When I looked back over my shoulder Ethan was lying on the floor.
‘Ethan, what are you doing now?’
Oops, now I was on the floor too. Doreen bleated and butted my shoulder, trying to get out of the rucksack. I took it off and tipped her out.
‘Ava?’ Ethan scrambled towards me on his knees, pointing at the tree. ‘Tell me that’s not really happening.’
Like, what? My bike was being dragged along the ground by a tree root. Growling griffins, it had to be those pesky sprites again. Their silly games were getting so tiring. I raced over to the feather-boa tree and stamped down on the root as hard as I could.
‘Ouch, that hurt.’
The voice seemed to come from the tree. I put my hands on my hips and tutted. Like, really, did those sprites think I had candyfloss between my ears? I bent down to untangle my bike – but the tree lifted it up into its branches
‘Just quit with the games, you lot!’ I kicked the tree in frustration.
‘Why, you ruffian!’ The tree shook and a storm of black-and-white plumes tumbled to the ground.
I put my hand over my open mouth. Oh my curly candy, it wasn’t the sprites at all. The tree was a magpie tree. Like, wowzas. I’d heard of magpie trees, but I’d never seen one. They only grew deep in the Black Forest.
‘Scoundrel,’ the tree continued, ‘terrorizing an innocent tree!’ He parted his lower branches and a pair of beady eyes peered out at me. ‘And please control that animal. Its nibbling is most discourteous.’
I picked up Doreen. She still had a piece of tree root in her teeth.
‘Innocent!’ I said. ‘You’ve stolen our bikes.’
‘Stolen . . . ?’ The tree sighed. ‘I prefer to call it collecting.’
I rolled my eyes at Ethan, who was still on his knees making a weird noise somewhere between a choke and a cry.
‘Oh dear,’ the tree continued. ‘I suppose it might seem that way. What to say? It’s in the sap, old girl. When I see something shiny, I have to have it.’
I smiled – I couldn’t help it. With his beaky nose, he really did look like a magpie.
‘By golly.’ The tree covered his eyes with a feathery branch. ‘I thought I had my obsession under control. Forgive me, child, for it appears I’m beaten.’
‘Erg, whatever,’ I said, finally able to get a word in. ‘We just want our bikes back. Come on, Ethan.’
Ethan didn’t move. He just kept staring at the tree.
The tree stared back at him. ‘Jeepers, is your friend OK? Have I upset him with my discourtesy?’
The tree made a weird wailing sound and started to cry. Doreen joined in. She was bleating so much she shook.
‘And now I’ve upset your microcorn too. This day grows ever darker.’
I looked at my watch. I didn’t want to be rude, but as much as I’d have loved to help the tree with its personal issues, my brother and dog had been captured by an EVIL sorceress and that kind of took priority.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘no big deal. If you could just pass our bikes down, we’ll be on our way.’
But the tree was too busy going off on one to hear me. Tears rushed down its trunk, forming puddles on the floor.
‘There, there,’ I said, patting it. ‘It’s OK.’
I felt weird patting a tree, but patting stopped Bertie crying when Mum did it, and I didn’t know what else to do. Patting didn’t work for the tree, though. Maybe I should just change the subject?
‘Can you please help me, Mr Tree?’ I said, wiping my wet hands on my jeans. ‘I’m trying to get to the cornfields—’
‘The cornfields?’ The tree quivered. It pointed one of its branches at me and waved it from side to side. ‘Why, I beseech you, do not venture there.’
‘Are they far?’ I so didn’t have time for the tree’s amateur dramatics.
‘Far, no. But it is a dangerous journey.’ The tree lowered its voice. ‘A danger at least trebled by the presence of the Black Sorceress.’
A branch cracked in the distance, the noise sending a flurry of birds into the darkening sky. Ethan looked behind him into the trees. He made a sound like Dad when he’s just seen Mum’s shopping receipts, and finally he stood up.
‘We must be careful,’ said the tree. ‘She has friends everywhere. The dark force is again stirring.’
I touched the back of my neck where the hairs stood up. Just a little distraction, darling. I hadn’t given it too much thought at the time – what with Doreen disappearing – but there was definitely something funny going on with
those sprites. Mum said Odette was playing with us – were the sprites’ tricks part of her game too? And more to the point, right now, was the magpie tree one of her distractions?
‘Like, thanks for the warning,’ I said. ‘But just give us our bikes back please.’
The tree looked around again, his voice now a whisper. ‘Please, take heed. You must return home without delay. For I saw the sorceress with my very own eyes just a few hours ago.’
A few hours ago. If the tree was speaking the truth, we were close, so close. ‘Come on Ethan.’
The tree sighed, a flurry of black plumes tumbling to the floor along with our bikes. ‘As you wish. But I implore you to take care. For fear can turn even the most noble towards the darkness.’
OK, I like totally got it. A talking tree harping on about a dark sorceress and her EVIL spies is enough to give anyone the shivers. It was all a bit of a shock to Ethan, I could see that. But if I’d have reacted like this when I first saw a car, I’d still be glued to the spot on Camden High Street.
‘In the name of the good goblin, Ethan, will you just take the bike.’
‘But—’ Ethan pointed a shaky finger at the magpie tree.
‘Yes, Ethan, we’ve been through this. The tree talks. Get over it.’
‘But it’s not possible.’
‘Clearly it is.’ I let go of the handlebars so Ethan had no choice but to grab his bike.
‘This really isn’t a game, is it?’
‘No, Ethan.’ I touched his shoulder. ‘But it’s going to be OK, I promise.’
Finally Ethan climbed back on his bike and we rode on, Doreen running ahead, her breath rising up into the forest like tiny will-o’-the-wisps. Even she seemed a bit nervous. I mean, it was like totally weird. The forest was deserted – the only noise the swish of our bike wheels and Doreen grunting.
That is why I absolutely could not stop for a wee. I mean, everyone knows the forest grows silent when something really bad is about to happen. I gripped my handlebars tightly and tried to take my mind off the pain in my tummy by counting to a thousand. By the time I got to seven hundred and sixty-four, I could hold it no longer. It was wee or wet myself.
‘Wait there a mo,’ I said, throwing my bike to the ground. ‘Whatever you do, don’t follow me.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Nowhere you need to come.’ I pulled off my rucksack and ran behind a giant oak tree. A princess is not expected to wee al fresco, and with Ethan about I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of whipping my trousers down, but when a girl’s got to go a girl’s got to go. And I really, really had to go.
Just as I began the deed, I heard a rustling noise. It was coming from right in front of me. Slowly I leant sideways and peeped around the tree. Ethan and Doreen were where I’d left them, Ethan’s head darting from side to side nervously. It must have been a rabbit or a badger that made the noise. Go away, fluffball, nothing to see here. I fastened my jeans and edged my way around the humongous trunk, my feet sinking into the thick layer of soggy leaves that covered the roots. The wind had picked up, and the knotted branches moaned in the breeze.
More rustling. Behind me this time.
Doreen threw her head back and bleated. She kicked the ground with her heel.
‘What’s up with her?’ Ethan said in a low whisper.
And then I saw it. A grey warty face peeping out from the blanket of leaves. The creature sank back into the ground. It appeared again, closer this time, along with a second face so ugly it could turn unicorn milk sour. I coughed, the stink of sweaty socks and mouldy cheese taking my breath away. There was only one thing that smelt like that.
Boggarts!
The boggarts looked at each other and squealed. One of them had huge yellow teeth that were too big for his mouth.
‘Get the helmety-hat,’ he said, reaching up out of his hole and grabbing my ankle.
I cried out as the second boggart grabbed me too, his filthy nails jabbing my skin.
‘Do something, Ethan,’ I shouted.
But Ethan just stood there staring. Nothing new there, then.
‘Doreen!’
Doreen ignored me too, her eyes wide, nostrils flared.
‘Come on, Do-Do. Help me out.’
‘Test is for the highness,’ cackled the boggart with big teeth.
Like, what?
The other boggarts found this hilarious – their squealing was worse than the Godfather’s German techno music. Was it possible to die from bleeding ears? I searched around for something to fight them off with.
A shaft of light broke through the clouds. There was something shiny just in front of me. My bike pump! The boggarts still clinging to my trousers, still squealing, I leant forward and picked it up. A surge of electricity shot up my arm. Weird – but, with the boggarts doing their best to pierce my eardrums, I didn’t exactly have time to think about it. I looked right at the nearest screechmonger and, throwing my arm back, whacked him on top of his head.
‘Back off, loser,’ I shouted.
He yelped and, releasing my leg, shot back down into his hole.
The second boggart – the one who needed a dentist – dug his bony fingers further into my ankle. ‘I want me that ’at.’
I kicked him ninja-style right on the nose with my free foot. He cried out and put his hands to his face. For a moment, I felt bad, but then I remembered the throbbing in my leg. It was me or them and it wasn’t going to be me. I turned on my heel and prepared to run, but the ground shifted underneath me. I was sinking, dropping down into the earth as the leaves moved in waves around me. Another head appeared, bald with a scaly scalp. Oh my giddy goblin, I wasn’t sinking at all. The boggarts were rising!
There were loads of them now. Faces as ugly as the castle gargoyles, all staring out at me from the leaves. They used their short stubby arms to push themselves upwards, squealing like truffle boars on market day. Eugh, disgusting. They smelt even worse than they sounded – had these losers even heard of soap? I covered my nose with my hand.
The boggarts took their chance. One of them climbed out of his hole and butted me in the stomach, sending me flying backwards. Another jumped on top of me. He wrapped his stumpy legs around my neck and pulled at my helmet. I tried to wriggle free, but for a short squat house sprite he was pretty strong. And he had friends – lots of them. Which was more than I had, with both Ethan and Doreen standing there like a pair of bookends. I was boggart fodder for sure . . .
My ears, my ears. How was that sound even possible? The screeching boggart released his grip.
‘Get off her!’ Ethan squeezed his water bottle again and, still screeching, the boggart backed away, frantically wiping water from his skin. That explained the smell then!
I eased myself upwards. ‘Stop him, Ethan.’
Old scaly scalp was trying to steal my bike pump – I’d dropped it on the ground when they ambushed me. Ethan held up his bottle and the boggart paused. He gnashed his teeth together, taking another lunge at the pump when Ethan squeezed the bottle and nothing came out.
Nice try, but I was faster than that stink monster. On my feet now, I reached for the pump and charged at him with it. He ran away, crying like a kitten who’d lost its mum. But that didn’t stop the other boggarts from having a go.
‘No chance,’ I said, bringing my bike pump down on top of a bald warty head.
I raised it again. Bip! Bop! Bosh! I hit down again and again on one oversized skull after the other. This went on for a while. Ethan gave up on his empty water bottle and joined in with a stumpy stick he’d found. Breathing in short sharp rasps, he whacked the boggarts square on the head like he’d done on the video clip where he was playing whack-a-mole with his dad.
It was totally exhausting. No matter how quickly we went, the boggarts were quicker and another head would appear. Thankfully, the boggarts were getting tired too. Even with their thick skulls there were only so many whacks on the head they could take.
‘Truce!
’ called a particularly ugly boggart with a nose like a squashed aubergine.
I lowered my bike pump but not my guard. The boggart climbed out of his hole. Arms stretched out in front of him, he walked around in a circle. Another joined him. And another. Round and round they went, mouths open, banging into each other like tiny toddler zombies.
Growling griffins! Like, how could I have been scared of these dweebs? There was something really strange about this situation. Doreen thought the same. She snapped out of the weird trance thing and shook herself. Bleating manically, she circled the boggarts, gnashing her teeth.
‘Stop it, Doreen.’ I held out a chocolate lime to tempt her back to me. ‘We don’t have time for this.’
Doreen continued to chase the zombie-boggarts. She butted old yellow-teeth’s bum. For the first time since the magpie tree, a smile crept on to Ethan’s face.
‘I mean it, Doreen, stop messing—’
My words caught in my throat. One of the boggarts was wearing a cap. A blue-and-white striped bed cap with the royal crest embroidered on it! I ran over and pulled it from his head.
‘Where did you get this?’
The boggart snarled. I raised my bike pump and he pressed his hands together like he was about to say his prayers.
‘Sorry, missy,’ he hissed. ‘Please don’t ’it me again. The ’lectrics ’urts.’
Electrics? What was he on about?
‘Where did you get it?’ I repeated. ‘It’s my brother’s!’
The boggart closed his eyes. ‘I founded it . . .’
‘Don’t lie to me!’ I stuck my bike pump under his chin.
‘T’was a gift. A gift from the Lady Odette.’
My stomach tightened. Until now, I’d kind of hoped there’d been a big mix-up and Bertie would just turn up somewhere in the castle with his travel chess set, Jeb following at his heels. But there was no mix-up. Odette had kidnapped my brother and dog. It was time to stop stalling and find them.
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