Rampage of the Goblins

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by Tommy Donbavand


  With a shriek of metal against stone, the chariot rocked violently for a few moments before tipping backwards and beginning to roll down the side of the pyramid, slowly at first, dragging the sarcophagus with it.

  Hundreds of goblins, tired and aching from their climb, looked up with wide eyes as the golden carriage picked up speed, plunging towards them. Those lucky enough to leap out of the way lost their grip on the stone and found themselves tumbling head over heels back down towards the ground.

  Squiffer, at the back of the pack, gave a small eep! of gas as the chariot headed straight for him. “This be not my day,” he squeaked as he disappeared beneath the vast wheels.

  Luke, Resus, Cleo and Heru clung on to each other as the carriage continued to pick up speed.

  “What be going on?” screamed Princess Poot. “I only want be married!”

  “My pleasure,” grinned Resus, snatching up both the Great Guff and Princess Poot and tossing them into the sarcophagus. “I reckon that’s just about a small enough space for them to swap gas for a while,” he said, kicking the lid closed with his foot.

  Luke turned to Cleo. “Aren’t you going to lecture him about cruelty to goblins?”

  “Normally I would,” she replied, glancing at the rapidly approaching ground, “but as we’re about to smash into the desert, I’ll give it a miss!”

  “Smash into the desert?” exclaimed Heru. “Not while I’m here!” He raised his hands and chanted some magic words, and just before it reached the ground the golden chariot screeched to a juddering halt, then rose gently into the air and began to soar around the edge of the pyramid, glinting in the bright sunlight.

  Luke, Resus and Cleo gripped the sides and stared at the pharaoh in amazement. He winked at them. “There’s no point being a pharaoh if you can’t invoke a little mummy magic!”

  Meanwhile, the goblins, taking the disappearance of their leader and the sight of a flying chariot as a sign that their bad day was about to get a lot worse, began to scurry away across the scorching sand. Squiffer raced to keep up with the rest of them, plumes of green gas erupting from his behind.

  The chariot finally came to a stop at the base of the pyramid, hovering just above the ground. Then Heru turned one of its golden wheels towards the sun, casting a beam of light onto the side of the stone structure and triggering the secret entrance.

  “Remember when we first met Heru and he made us act out his favourite soap opera?” Resus asked in a whisper.

  “Like it was yesterday,” replied Luke. “Why?”

  “Well, I might have given the impression that I thought he was nothing but a bandaged buffoon…”

  “Might have?” spluttered Cleo. “You practically said it to his face!”

  “Yeah, well…” grinned Resus. “I take it all back. Egypt’s cool – and Heru’s the king!”

  The pharaoh gestured towards his sarcophagus, which was now floating beside the group. “This is where I leave you,” he said, “but I promise to let those two back out once their honeymoon is over.”

  “You couldn’t drop us off at that Hex Hatch before you disappear, could you?” asked Luke.

  Heru bowed deeply. “It would be my honour.” He muttered another spell and the chariot flew through the air to settle beside the shimmering window.

  “There’s something we have to do before we go,” said Resus. He pulled the heart from his cloak and handed it to Heru.

  “This is yours,” said Luke. “Thank you so much for the kind gift, and we hope it will help someone else in the future.”

  “How wonderful!” exclaimed Heru, clutching it tightly. “Just the thing to brighten up that dull, treasure-filled tomb of mine.”

  Luke turned to Resus and Cleo as they stepped towards the Hex Hatch. “Do you know what I’m most looking forward to about getting back home?” he asked.

  Resus shrugged. “Never seeing another mermaid, ever again?”

  “Having a sleep without being digested?” suggested Cleo.

  Luke grinned. “Both of those, yeah,” he said. “But now we’ve returned another relic, I can’t wait to see Sir Otto’s face turn the same shade of purple as this Hex Hatch!”

  Laughing, the trio jumped into the swirling violet tunnel and headed for home.

  Tommy Donbavand was born and brought up in Liverpool and has worked at numerous careers that have included clown, actor, theatre producer, children’s entertainer, drama teacher, storyteller and writer. His non-fiction books for children and their parents, Boredom Busters and Quick Fixes for Bored Kids, have helped him to become a regular guest on radio stations around the UK and he also writes for a number of magazines, including Creative Steps and Scholastic’s Junior Education.

  Tommy sees his comedy-horror series Scream Street as what might have resulted had Stephen King been the author of Scooby Doo. “Writing Scream Street is fangtastic fun,” he says. “I just have to be careful not to scare myself too much!” Tommy had so much fun writing the first Scream Street books that he decided to set Luke, Resus and Cleo another quest so he’d have an excuse to write some more.

  You can find out more about Tommy and his books at his website: www.tommydonbavand.com

  Other Scream Street titles

  1: Fang of the Vampire

  2: Blood of the Witch

  3: Heart of the Mummy

  4: Flesh of the Zombie

  5: Skull of the Skeleton

  6: Claw of the Werewolf

  7: Invasion of the Normals

  8: Attack of the Trolls

  9: Terror of the Nightwatchman

  Coming soon!

  11: Hunger of the Yeti

  For my sister, Sue,

  with apologies for forcing our parents to

  change your name from Jayne to Susan when you

  first came home from hospital!

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are

  either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  First published 2010 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2010 Tommy Donbavand

  Illustrations © 2010 Cartoon Saloon Ltd

  The right of Tommy Donbavand to be identified

  as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance

  with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted

  or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and

  recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data: a catalogue record

  for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-4063-3248-3 (ePub)

  ISBN 978-1-4063-3249-0 (e-PDF)

  www.walker.co.uk

 

 

 


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