Magic at Midnight
Page 7
‘The munklepoops?’ Cinders suddenly felt far less bold than she had just a moment before.
‘Yes, big things, lots of teeth, very bad breath,’ Brian explained, wrinkling her nose again. ‘Wait, did I get it the wrong way round? Yes I did. Bite is worse than their bark. Awfully quiet things, they are. You hardly know they’re there and then SNAP, there goes your leg. Anyway, I must dash. See you soon.’
And
with
that
she
was
gone.
‘I’m starting to wish we’d never met her.
Why is it she never shows up with good news?’ Sparks asked, a little shaky on his paws. He nuzzled his head under Cinders’s arm and stared up at her with big, shining eyes. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’
‘If we go back now, we’ll never find out the truth about my mother,’ Cinders explained to her dithering dog, ‘and I might never learn how to use my powers properly.’
‘Or safely,’ Sparks added reluctantly. He looked back towards the kingdom and felt his tail droop. He knew there was no going home again. ‘I hate to harp on about this, but before we make a final decision can we get a firm yes or no on whether or not they have sausages in Fairyland? I heard a lot of talk about cake, but there wasn’t any solid information on sausages.’
‘I don’t know,’ Cinders admitted.
‘But if I’m able to control my magic I’ll be able to get you as many sausages as you like, won’t I? Forever.’
‘You do make an excellent point.’
His ears perked up for a second until a wild howl echoed through the trees, rustling every leaf on every branch. Mouse the horse spun round, chasing his tail in a very mouse-like way as Sparks shivered from the tip of his nose to the end of his toes.
‘I know you’re scared,’ said Cinders to both of them, trying to look as brave as possible, ‘but as long as we stick together I think we’ll be okay.’
‘I’m not afraid of anything,’ the dog barked, puffing out his fur to make himself as big as possible. ‘Munklepoops, gadzoozles and nobbledizooks? I’ve seen your stepmother first thing in the morning – it’ll take more than a monster from the Dark Forest to scare this doggo.’
A sudden shaking of the leaves made everyone jump.
‘What was that?’
Sparks leaped high into the air and dashed behind Cinders.
‘I thought you weren’t afraid of anything?’ she asked the petrified pup before reaching down to yank off one of her shoes. She brandished it high above her head, ready to strike. There was definitely someone or something hiding in the bushes.
‘I’m protecting you,’ Sparks explained with chattering teeth. ‘In case they sneak up from behind. What are you doing with your shoe?’
‘I’m going to use it as a weapon,’ Cinders whispered, batting the shoe up and down like a hammer. ‘You know, like this.’
‘You’re more likely to knock them out with the stench,’ he muttered, covering his nose with one large red paw.
Another rustle and Sparks cowered behind his best friend. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. All they could do was face the thing.
‘Hello? Who’s there?’ Cinders called, full of hope that whatever was about to show itself would be friendly. What if it was Joderick, come to help? Or her father! Or, good golly gosh, she’d even prefer the sight of her stepmother to a munklepoop.
Very, very, very slowly, a red-faced boy in a familiar hat rose up from behind a bush.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Cinders, what on earth are you doing with your shoe?’
‘Hansel!’ she yelled. ‘You scared the living daylights out of us!’
‘Not me,’ panted Sparks, flopping to the ground in a trembling heap.
Hansel tumbled out of the bushes, brushing stray leaves and twigs out of his green felt hat, which, quite frankly, Cinders had always thought looked a bit silly. He puffed up his chest and planted his hands on his hips.
‘Cinders!’ he bellowed. ‘It is I, Hansel, and I am here to save you.’
‘Save me from what?’ she asked, jamming her foot back into her shoe.
‘Um,’ he glanced around, looking for an immediate threat. ‘I’m not really sure.’
‘Right,’ Cinders replied with a sigh. ‘So what are you really doing all the way out here? Did you eat part of the witch’s cottage again?’
Hansel looked outraged. ‘No, of course not!’
Cinders raised an eyebrow in disbelief. She knew a porker when she heard one.
‘I don’t have time for this!’ Hansel threw a panicked look over his shoulder. ‘And I did not eat any part of the witch’s cottage. Anyone could have popped one of those roof tiles off for a tasty snack. And, really, what kind of monster makes a cottage out of gingerbread and expects people not to eat it?’
‘Right, so you did eat part of Veronica’s cottage,’ Cinders said, her arms folded in front of her. This was just what she didn’t need. Hansel had always been a pain, ever since they were little. She hadn’t forgiven him for the time he’d set off that magic porridge pot. The entire village had had to eat porridge for days, and she still couldn’t bear to look at a bowl of it.
‘Okay, look,’ he said. ‘Someone who is not me may have eaten a tiny bit of the witch’s roof, and a pigeon may have got in and pooped on her head when she was asleep. So the long and the short of it is I need to get gone.’
‘Oh, he really is the worst,’ Sparks grumbled. ‘Why is there never a hungry nobbledizook around when you need one?’
Hansel stared at Sparks. ‘Cinders,’ he said shakily, ‘did you know your dog could talk?’
‘Yeah, I know. The thing is, it’s all a bit complicat—’
‘You know what?’ said Hansel. ‘I’m in a hurry so I’m just going to roll with it. You can explain everything later.’ He turned to look at Mouse the horse. ‘Can you guys give me a ride?’
‘Just so rude,’ huffed Sparks.
From somewhere outside the forest, Cinders heard the echo of loud and angry voices.
‘I’m on the run too,’ she said, clambering up into the saddle on Mouse’s back. ‘You’d just get in the way.’
‘Not necessarily. Maybe I can help. Where are you going? You look like you’re off on a quest. Are you going on a quest? Do you need a brave leader who can find the way to anywhere?’ Hansel batted his very long eyelashes. ‘If so, I’m your man.’
Cinders snorted. ‘The only thing you’re good for is telling fibs and getting on the wrong side of witches. Anyway, I’m going to Fairyland and you can’t possibly help with that.’
‘Not true!’ Hansel yelled. ‘I’ve been to Fairyland loads of times.’
‘Lie number one,’ Sparks said politely.
‘Well, how about this.’ Hansel fumbled with the clasp on his knapsack. ‘I’ve got travel snacks! I’m totally useful! You could not do without me!’ He opened the leather satchel and showed Cinders what was inside. It was cake. Glorious, glorious cake. And a very suspicious-looking slab of gingerbread.
‘Well, that does change things,’ she admitted. Whether he’d nicked it from Veronica the witch or not, it did look delicious.
‘Hmm,’ said Sparks. ‘It’s not as good as a sausage, is it?’
Hansel smiled and lifted up his ill-gotten gingerbread. Under it were loads of little sausages. ‘I never go anywhere without a dozen chipolatas,’ he said.
‘I’ve changed my mind – he’s in,’ declared Sparks.
‘The tracks lead this way!’
The voices beyond the treeline were getting louder. Whoever it was would find them any second.
Cinders looked at Hansel. Hansel looked at Cinders.
‘Come on,’ Sparks barked, nodding towards the dark of the forest. ‘If we’re going, let’s go. Last one to Fairyland is a rotten munklepoop.’
‘Please,’ Hansel pleaded, suddenly looking very serious, ‘I know you’ve no reason to trust me, but I really need your help.’
‘Straight ahead and quickly,’ said Hansel before hastily adding, ‘would be my humble suggestion.’
‘Straight ahead it is,’ Cinders agreed, giving Mouse an encouraging squeeze. They galloped off, with Sparks dashing through the trees beside them, leaving their pursuers far behind.
Even though she had no idea what lay ahead, Cinders felt a determined smile spreading across her face. As long as she kept believing in herself and had Sparks by her side, there was nothing she couldn’t do. She was half fairy, after all.
And, while she didn’t know how long it would take to find Fairyland or what might happen on the way there, Cinders knew one thing: this time she was setting off on a real adventure …
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