Amelia Fang and the Half-Moon Holiday (The Amelia Fang Series)

by Laura Ellen Anderson

  ‘I think Pumpy is still in the cave!’ said Tangine in a panic.

  ‘We’ll find him, don’t worry,’ said Amelia, although she didn’t like the thought of going back in the cave to meet whoever or whatever had thrown them out.

  The croaky voice suddenly rumbled out of the cave again. ‘Out! Out! Pesky bugs!’ and something went hurtling through the air landing with a THUD in the daisy patch next to them.

  ‘PUMPY!’ cried Tangine happily.

  ‘What the bats just happened?’ said Grimaldi shaking the last of the dust from his cloak hood. ‘Who was that?’

  Amelia’s head felt fuzzy. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But I do know that whoever it was didn’t want us there. We need to get back to the campsite as fast as we can, so Ricky and Graham can help us.’

  ‘What if we’re stuck this size forever?’ said Grimaldi nervously.

  Amelia didn’t want to even think about that prospect.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Grimaldi,’ she said slightly more sternly than she’d meant. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’

  Florence put a big hairy arm around Amelia’s shoulders. ‘COME ON FANG. S’NOT LIKE YOU TO BE DOOM AND GLOOM. THAT’S GRIMALDI’S JOB!’

  ‘Hey!’ protested Grimaldi. Then he grinned. ‘It’s true though.’

  Amelia smiled. She could always count on her friends to cheer her up when she was feeling sad. She hugged Squashy tightly and he nuzzled into her chest, when suddenly there was a low buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. It quickly began to get louder. Amelia looked down at her friends in confusion.

  ‘S’NOT ME,’ said Florence with a shrug.

  There was a rustling sound from amongst the daisies. The buzzing stopped.

  Amelia thought her cold vampire heart was going to beat right through her chest. Whatever next?! They hadn’t even got far enough away from whatever was in the cave yet.

  Grimaldi grabbed Amelia’s arm and Tangine hid himself behind Pumpy.

  Florence stepped forward so that she was in front of Amelia, Grimaldi and Tangine, and poised herself, shaking down her fur in what she hoped was an intimidating manner.

  The stems parted and out flew a shocked looking bumblebee.

  ‘Oh, do pardon me!’ said the bee, adjusting a pair of little glasses. He was also wearing a crown, a cape and carrying a large staff with a glowing ball at the top. But that wasn’t all. He had one long shiny and very pointy horn on his head. He held the staff out to get a better look at Florence. ‘Dancing dandelions. You’re not a be–’

  ‘THAT’S RIGHT,’ Florence bellowed. ‘I AM NOT A BEAST! I’M A RARE BREED OF YETI!’

  Florence did not appreciate being mistaken for a beast. It happened sometimes, but she was sure to let somebody know if they made that mistake.

  The horned-bumblebee took a step backwards. ‘Oh, I do very much see that. What I was going to say was, you’re not a bee . . . or any kind of bug for that matter. Yet, you’re the same size as one.’

  Florence narrowed her eyes. ‘YEAH . . . YER RIGHT.’

  ‘Please allow me to introduce myself. I am King Jamie the Eighth of Buggingtonshire,’ the bumblebee declared confidently. ‘And I am a bumblicorn.’

  A bumblicorn?’ said Amelia, peering out from behind Florence.

  ‘Oh, hello!’ The king laughed as, one-byone, the others followed Amelia’s lead. ‘Yes, the bumbliest of corns!’

  ‘What? You’re a corn that bumbles?’ asked Tangine.

  ‘No, no, I was just being silly with the words,’ said King Jamie the Eighth. ‘I’m just a bumblicorn . . .’

  Tangine looked at him blankly.

  ‘Goodness me,’ said the king, buzzing over to Amelia. She instinctively stepped back.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you, young vampire creature,’ said King Jamie. ‘It’s just, you seem to be hurt.’ He gestured towards her right wing which had a big scratch across it.

  Amelia lifted a hand to touch it. ‘Ouch! I must’ve scraped it when we fell out of the jam jar.’ Squashy squeaked and jumped into Amelia’s arms to comfort her.

  ‘You fell out of a jam jar?’ said King Jamie.

  ‘THAT’S RIGHT,’ Florence replied. ‘HURT ME LEFT NOSTRIL.’

  ‘Flailing Flamingos!’ gasped King Jamie looking concerned. ‘You must be tended to!’

  ‘I DUNNO IF I WANNA BE TENDED,’ said Florence raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Tended?’ said Grimaldi. ‘Is that like being stretched?’

  ‘Oh no, dear little reaper,’ said the king kindly. ‘I think you’re getting confused with ex- tended. I really think you should all come back to Buggington Palace so that we can tend to your wounds and find you some new clean and dry clothes too.’

  ‘Wait . . . did you say new clothes?’ said Tangine, stepping forward. ‘My pride was hurt; does that count?’

  ‘Thank you, King Jamie,’ said Amelia carefully. ‘But we really need to get back to our Rainbow Ranger leaders. They’ll be worried sick when they realise we’re gone.’

  ‘He did say new clothes!’ Tangine said to Amelia pleadingly. ‘I mean, look at the state of us! And yellow is not my colour.’ He patted at the globules of yellow jam clinging to his jumper.

  ‘AND BEING THIS STICKY WOULD MAKE IT ’ARD TO GET VERY FAR RIGHT NOW,’ said Florence, lifting a foot which left a trail of jam from her toes to the floor.

  Grimaldi looked at Amelia nervously, but didn’t say anything.

  Suddenly, something creaked in the darkness from the direction of the cave, followed by shuffling and footsteps.

  ‘Okay!’ said Amelia, deciding quickly. ‘We should get away from here at least . . .’ She looked towards the cave nervously. She didn’t fancy being swept up again. ‘But as soon as we’ve cleaned up we’ll need to find Ricky and Graham so we can get back to our normal size again!’

  King Jamie saluted. ‘Follow me!’

  CHAPTER 10

  I AM NOT A SOFA

  As the friends followed King Jamie through the daisy patch, they answered all his questions about their half-moon holiday and what had led them to the tree. Soon, King Jamie took them up a little spiral staircase carved into a thick flower stem. Amelia hugged Squashy tight.

  When the friends reached the top, the tall blades of grass and flowers parted to reveal a whole bug kingdom. All types of bugs were tucked away safely inside hundreds of colourful flower huts. The leaves on the flower stems acted like little balconies where bugs had placed deckchairs and sunloungers. A network of vines, shoots and stalks connected each flower hut, acting as sheltered pathways. It was like nothing Amelia had ever seen before.

  ‘Welcome to Buggingtonshire!’ King Jamie said proudly. ‘I’ll take you straight to Buggington Palace, so you can warm up with a nice cup of Nettle Tea!’

  Buggington Palace wasn’t hard to spot. The huge golden honeycomb structure stretched higher than all the flower huts in the bug kingdom.

  Inside, King Jamie the Eighth led the friends through spongy hallways lined with pictures of knights and past kings and queens. The air and walls were sweet with honey. Squashy leant out of Amelia’s arms to lick the walls as they walked past.

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ said King Jamie, ushering the friends into a cosy living room, lit by the warm orange glow from a huge fireplace. ‘I’ll fetch you some dry clothes from the Honey Hall of Garments and have our wonderful maid Madame Flutterby make you a nice warm batch of Nettle Tea. Prickles or no prickles?’

  Amelia smiled gratefully and hugged Squashy, whose eyes were now looking in two different directions from all the sugar. ‘Um, definitely no prickles for me, thank you.’

  ‘WAIT!’ Tangine stepped forward. ‘Did you say Honey Hall of Garments? As in a whole hall of clothes? Not just a wardrobe, or a room . . . a hall?’

  ‘Indeed, Prince Tangerine,’ said the king.

  ‘I WANNA PICK AN OUTFIT!’ said Florence. ‘DO YOU ’AVE CAPES?’

  ‘A whole rack of them,’ said King Jamie.

  Tangi
ne beamed and Florence rubbed her paws together happily.

  ‘Right this way, both of you!’ said the king as he made to leave the room. ‘Amelia and Grimaldi, would you like to come and pick something to wear too?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Amelia feeling the crackling fire warming her toes. ‘The fire and some Nettle Tea should do the job.’

  ‘No problem,’ said King Jamie. He paused. ‘Oh! And you’ll meet Denise in due course. . .’

  ‘Denise?’ said Grimaldi, as King Jamie left with an excitable Florence and Tangine in tow.

  ‘No idea,’ Amelia replied with a shrug. She snuggled up with Squashy and Grimaldi on a big squidgy sofa by the fire whilst Pumpy nibbled on an ornament.

  ‘I think this is quite possibly the comfiest sofa I’ve ever sat on,’ said Amelia as she slowly began to sink into it. Grimaldi had almost disappeared completely.

  ‘Does it feel a little sticky to you?’ he said, looking slightly concerned.

  Amelia shuffled and noticed her skirt slowly peel away from the surface of the sofa leaving a trail of clear goo. ‘It can’t be goblin slime,’ she said poking at it. ‘Even goblins are too big for Buggingtonshire, aren’t they?’

  ‘It’s like snot,’ said Grimaldi, wrinkling his nose.

  ‘Sofa . . . sticky . . . goblin . . . SNOT?!’ came a deep voice from somewhere in the room. ‘What do you plan on calling me next?!’

  ‘Who said that?’ said a bewildered Grimaldi looking around him.

  Suddenly the sofa began to move, and with one big DOOOOING, Amelia and Grimaldi were flung on to the floor.

  ‘Ouch!’ Amelia cried, rubbing her bottom. Grimaldi had landed upside down in an ornate vase.

  Suddenly, two beady eyes blinked amongst the huge blue blob that Amelia had thought was a sofa, and then a long line appeared for a mouth. The eyes looked Amelia up and down. ‘I am NOT a sofa,’ it said coldly. ‘I am a rare breed of SLUG.’

  Amelia raised her eyebrows. ‘I think you’re going to get along very well with our friend Florence.’

  CHAPTER 11

  THE CURSE OF THE SUGARPLUM TREE

  ‘BOW DOWN FER THE MIGHTY FLO, YER BIG LITTLE MITES!’ bellowed Florence as she waltzed into the room where Amelia and Grimaldi were having tea with a massive slug.

  Florence was wearing a long red velvet cape with a huge frilly collar and fur trimming. A large golden crown was perched on her head and she held a jewel encrusted staff in one paw which she used to point at whomever she spoke to. ‘DON’T I LOOK MAJESTIC?!’ she said proudly.

  ‘Who’s the beast?’ said the slug before taking a dainty sip of Nettle Tea with prickles.

  Florence pointed her staff at the slug. ‘I AM NOT A BEAST, I’M A RARE BREED OF YETI!’ She stepped forward and swished her cape for dramatic effect.

  The slug gasped and bowed her head. ‘I immediately adore you. I’m Denise by the way – a rare breed of slug.’

  Florence grunted and gently poked Denise in the tummy with the staff. ‘YOU’RE SO SQUIDGY,’ she said. ‘PLEASURE TER MEET YA. SO, WHAT MAKES YOU RARE THEN?’

  ‘My likeness to sofas,’ said Denise. ‘I’m much bigger and comfier than the average slug. I also have better manners.’

  Amelia and Grimaldi chuckled. And Tangine chose that moment to burst into the room looking like an overdressed clown. His hair was sprayed to within an inch of its life and his cheeks were positively glittering. Ruffle upon ruffle bounced around his neck, wrists and ankles and a huge patterned belt kept the whole outfit in its place; which was a good job considering Tangine looked as though he might explode right out of it with joy.

  ‘LOOK AT ME!’ he beamed and struck a pose. He walked up to Amelia and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Amelia. I’ve decided I want to stay here and live in Buggington Palace. It’s the best. I can be Bug Fashion Guru, and you guys can drink tea ALL DAY! Pumpy can live on a vegetarian diet of petals, which will be good for him. And Squashy . . .’ Tangine paused and looked at the little pumpkin who had fallen asleep with his tongue stuck to the honey-coated wall. ‘He can just lick the walls.’

  Amelia sighed. ‘We can’t stay here forever, Tangine,’ she said softly. We have to get big again and go home. Our family and our friends are in Nocturnia. I miss Mum and Dad and Wooo.’

  ‘Plus, we can’t miss school. We have homework to hand in!’ Grimaldi added.

  ‘I DO MISS MY PIT,’ said Florence. ‘AND MY AUNT’S FAMOUS SLOW WORM SPAG-BOL.’

  ‘I know,’ Tangine sighed. ‘I do miss Mum’s selection of facemasks and Dad’s horrifying Hairball Hot-Pot, and my zombie Mummy Maids – especially Helen – it’s just that I love that Honey Hall of Garments so much!’ He slumped down on Denise.

  ‘Seriously, I am NOT a sofa!’ cried the slug.

  ‘Well, when you’re King of Nocturnia, you can open up your very own Hall of Garments!’ said Amelia with a smile. ‘It can be your Horrifying Hall of Ghoulish Garments!’

  Tangine’s eyes lit up.

  Amelia looked up at King Jamie. ‘I hope you don’t think we’re being rude. You’re being ever so kind, and your palace really is very lovely. It’s just . . .’ she paused and swallowed hard. ‘It’s just not home.’

  The king smiled. ‘I didn’t think for one tiny second that you were being rude at all. I’m just sorry you’re in such a pickle.’

  ‘So, what exactly happened to you?’ asked Denise.

  ‘They ate the glowing fruit from that plum tree. . .’ said King Jamie, looking concerned.

  Denise gasped. ‘Oh, the poor darlings have been cursed!’

  King Jamie winced. ‘I didn’t really want to mention that word. There’s no need to panic them.’

  ‘TOO LATE,’ said Florence.

  ‘Cursed?!’ shrieked Grimaldi. ‘We can’t be cursed! Are we going to be tiny forever?’

  Amelia felt her belly twist around and around. Cursed? Surely not?

  ‘It’s what happened to everyone else on this island,’ said Denise sadly.

  ‘I thought everyone left the island because it was so small and boring,’ said Tangine.

  ‘Nobody ever left the island!’ Denise said. They’re just all teeny weeny. All cursed! Like you.’

  ‘Over the years, the cursed creatures have adapted to being the size of bugs,’ King Jamie explained. ‘They’ve set up a tiny city called Miniopolis on the east side of the island. We trade honey with them once a year in return for their famous Nettle Tea.’

  ‘So, what is this curse?’ Amelia asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. ‘What happened exactly?’

  ‘You’ve been touched by the Curse of the Sugarplum Tree, I’m afraid,’ the king said, turning to Denise. ‘Shall I tell the story? Or would you like to, my dearest sluggipops?’

  ‘’OLD ON ONE MAJESTIC MINUTE,’ said Florence pointing her staff at Denise. ‘ARE YOU TWO TOGEVVER? LIKE TOGEVVER TOGEVVER?’ She made the shape of a heart with her hairy paws.

  The king laughed and shimmied up to Denise. ‘This is my wife, the Queen of Buggingtonshire!’

  ‘Oh, don’t make a big thing out of it, bumblikins,’ said Queen Denise.

  ‘Bothering Batwings,’ said Grimaldi placing his head in his hands. ‘We’re welcomed to the palace with open arms and the first thing we do is sit on the queen!’

  The king and queen burst out laughing. ‘Don’t worry about it, tiny death man,’ said King Jamie the Eighth. ‘I mistake my wife for a sofa more often than not!’

  Amelia had thought Queen Denise rather brash to begin with, but the more she got to know her, the more she liked her. Especially when she invited them to sit on her again whilst she told them the story of the Curse of the Sugarplum Tree. ‘I do take pride in how utterly comfortable I am, so JUST this once,’ the queen said, smiling as Amelia sank into her squidgy exterior.

  Queen Denise began. ‘Many many many years ago, an old gnome called Gretta Grubbikins and the love of her life, a leprechaun called McJiggle, planted a sugarplum seed in their beautif
ul garden. Over the years, the seed and their love grew, until the most wondrous Sugarplum Tree blossomed. Gretta and McJiggle would dance and jig around the tree every day, humming their own very special tune together.

  As the sugarplums grew, they would glow a most wonderful golden colour. The pair shared the delicious plums from the tree with creatures from all over the island. And soon McJiggle even started sailing over to the Dazzling Docks every morning to sell them all over the Kingdom of the Light. The creatures LOVED them. Each night he would use the glow of the Sugarplum Tree to sail home safely to his beloved Gretta Grubbikins.’

  Florence sniffed. ‘THIS IS A LOVELY STORY SO FAR,’ she said wiping an eye.

  ‘BUT . . .’ said Queen Denise.

  ‘OH,’ Florence grunted. ‘I DON’T LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT BUT. . .’

  CHAPTER 12

  THE NECTAR CARRIAGE

  ‘One night,’ Queen Denise continued. ‘McJiggle did not return home. Gretta waited and waited, but morning came and still there was no sign of him.’

  ‘No sign . . .’ Amelia murmured to herself, remembering the scribbles covering the cave walls. ‘Wait! Was that Gretta Grubbikins inside the cave?’

  King Jamie nodded. ‘Most probably. She’s been hiding away in that cave for years now. She never comes out.’

  Denise nodded sadly. ‘So every night that passed, the lonelier Gretta grew. And as the years went by, the Sugarplum Tree was Gretta Grubbikin’s only reminder of her beloved McJiggle.

  ‘And in her sadness, she no longer wished to share the sugarplums with anyone else until McJiggle came home. But the creatures of the island loved the fruit so much, they would still sneak into the garden to pick them.

  ‘Before hiding herself away for good, Gretta cursed the tree. This curse meant that anyone who ate a sugarplum from the tree would shrink to the size of a sugarplum themselves. Then they would never be able to pick from the tree again.