The Secret Of Cacklefur Castle
Page 1
Dear mouse friends,
We
lcome to the world of
THE RODENT’S GAZETTE
EDITORIAL STAFF
Geronimo Stilton
A learned and brainy
mouse; editor of
The Rodent’
s Gazette
Thea Stilton
Geronimo’s sister and
special correspondent at
The Rodent’s Gazette
Trap Stilton
An awful joker;
Geronimo’s cousin and
owner of the store
Cheap Junk for Less
Benjamin Stilton
A sweet and loving
nine-year-old mouse;
Geronimo’s favorite
nephew
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Scholastic Inc.
THE SECRET OF
CACKLEFUR CASTLE
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced
into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by
any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter
invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For
information regarding permission, please contact Atlantyca S.p.A.,
Via Leopardi 8, 20123 Milan, Italy; e-mail foreignrights@atlantyca.it,
www.atlantyca.com.
eISBN 978-0-545-39217-4
Copyright © 2003 by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Corso Como 15, 20154
Milan, Italy.
International Rights © Atlantyca S.p.A.
English translation © 2005 by Atlantyca S.p.A.
GERONIMO STILTON names, characters, and related indicia are
copyright, trademark, and exclusive license of Atlantyca S.p.A. All rights
reserved. The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Based on an original idea by Elisabetta Dami.
www.geronimostilton.com
Published by Scholastic Inc., 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered
trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Stilton is the name of a famous English cheese. It is a registered trademark
of the Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association. For more information, go to
www.stiltoncheese.com.
Text by Geronimo Stilton
Original title Il segreto della famiglia Tenebrax
Cover Larry Keys
Illustrations by Larry Keys, Blasco Tabasco, and Toffina Sakkarina
Graphics by Merenguita Gingermouse
Special thanks to Tracey West
Interior design by Kay Petronio
First printing, August 2005
ON A CHEESY
AUTUM
N AFTERNOON
Let me introduce myself. My name is
Stilton,
Geronimo Stilton
. I run
The
Rodent’s Gazette,
the most
famouse
newspaper on Mouse Island. My office is in
17 Swiss Cheese Center.
That is where I was when this terrifying
tale began. It was a
beautiful
autumn
afternoon at the end
of October.
“What a lovely,
peaceful day!” I
said out loud.
I spoke too
soon. All of a
T
H
E
R
O
D
E
N
T
’
S
G
A
Z
E
T
T
E
sudden, the walls started to shake.
A loud roaring sound filled
my offi ce. My
desk began to tremble. The pencil cup that
my aunt Sweetfur gave me for my birthday
tumbled to the floor.
“Holey cheese!” I cried.
The roaring got louder. Then a mouse on a
motorcycle rode through my door. It was my
sister, Thea, of course.
“Thea!” I squeaked. “How many times do
I have to tell you not to ride your motorcycle
into my offi ce!”
“I’m worried about you, Geronimo,” Thea
said. “You have not written a new book in a
long time. What’s wrong?”
Thea is a special correspondent for
The
Rodent’s Gazette.
Still, I did not appreciate
her sticking her snout into my business.
I pointed to the pile of papers on my desk.
“I am too busy to
write
,” I said. “There is
lots of other work to do around here.”
Thea frowned. “This is not like you,
Geronimo. You always had time to write
before!” she scolded. Then she peeled out
of the offi ce, her tires
squealing
.
I sighed and sat down at my desk. What
could I do? I had to do my paperwork.
My tail had just hit the chair when the
3
door flew open a
second time. This
time my cousin
Trap burst in. He held
a triple-decker cheese
sandwich in one paw.
“Gero
nimo, you have
become
lazier than a
mouse
with an automatic cheese
slice
r.
You
must write something new!
” he
yelle
d.
“I need to be inspired before I can write,”
I huffed. “I can’t just pluck an idea out of
my whiskers.”
The door flew open a
third
time. Pinky
Pick,
my very
young assistant
editor, bounded
T
r
a
p
S
t
i
l
t
o
n
P
i
n
k
y
P
i
c
k
in. “Hey, Boss!” she said cheerfully. “I am
organizing a
PARTY
for your next book.
It’s going to be
fabumouse
!”
My tail twitched. I was starting to get
annoyed. “But I haven’
t even written it yet!”
I squeaked.
The door flew
open a fourth time. It was
my favorite nephew, Benjamin, on his way
home from
school
. “Hello, Uncle,” he said.
“My friends are all asking when your next
book is coming out!”
I felt embarassed. I hated to
disappoint Benjamin. He gazed
up at me with his sweet
round eyes. “It will be out
soon, Benjamin,” I said.
“I promise.”
Trap, Pinky, and Benjamin
left me to my work. I finished
B
e
n
j
a
m
i
n
S
t
i
l
t
o
n
5
I looked out over New Mouse City.
7
the stack of papers on my desk. But I could
not stop thinking about what everyone had
said. What would my next book be about?
The beautiful autumn afternoon turned
into a beautiful crisp evening. I looked
outside my window and gazed out over NEW
MOUSE CITY. A c
old wind blew up and lifted
the cheddar-colored leaves off the ground.
I watched them float and
swirl in the night air.
I needed an
idea
. But I didn’t have any!
I had to think. I sat down at my desk. . . .
A few hours later, I was still thinking.
I had no ideas. Nothing. My mind
was as dry as a stale slice of cheese.
Feeling helpless, I started to
sob
. “It is no
use!” I moaned.
“
M
y
w
r
i
t
i
n
g
d
a
y
s
a
r
e
o
v
e
r
!
A MYSTERIOUS
PHONE CALL
The phone rang, drowning out my sobs.
Riiiiing! Riiiiing! Riiiiing!
I wiped the tears off my whiskers. Then I
picked up the phone.
“Hello,” I said sadly. “Stilton speaking,
Geronimo Stilton
.”
“Is that you, my little cheese nip?” a sickly
sweet voice asked.
My fur stood on end. I knew that voice.
It was
CREEPELLA WON
CACKLEFUR!
I first
met Creepella last
October. She
is not like
other mice. She has shiny
gray fur. Her eyes are
S
i
g
h
!
9
as green as p
oisonous snakes. She
wears a long purple gown and matching
purple pawnail polish.
Creepella’s father, Boris, lives in a funeral
parlor at 33 Dark Grave Drive. Creepella
lives in a crypt in the cemetery. Her mouse
hole is filled with cobwebs and dead
fl o wers.
All that is pretty spooky. But here is the
scariest part of all: Creepella wants me to
be her boyfriend!
“Hello, Creepella,” I said nervously.
“I need you, Geronimo,” Creepella said.
“My grandfather Professor Frankenstein
has died. His will is being read tomorrow
night. I need to leave for
CACKLEFUR
CASTLE
right away. It’s in the Valley of
the Vain VAMPIRES. I need you to come with
me, my little bat wing.”
10
Cacklefur Castle? The Valley of the Vain
Vampires? I hate things that are spooky!
But Creepella was not fin
ished yet. “It will
be wonderful, Geronimo,” she said. “I’ll
introduce you to my family.”
Her family? I had already met her father,
and he was creepy enough. I really
did not want to meet any more
Cacklefurs
.
“I’m sorry,
Creepella,” I said quickly.
“I can't
go with you. I am busy .
.
.
um
.
.
.
working on my next book
!
”
“Really?” Creepella asked. She sounded
suspicious
. “What is it about?”
I di
dn’t know what to say. “Um . . .
it’s a
secre
t!” I lied.
Creepella didn’
t buy it. “Your book can
wait, my little toadstool. I will be at your
office with my hearse faster than a spider can
CRE
EPELLA
VON CACKLEFUR
Who Is She? She is a special effects designer for
scary films and haunted houses. Her father is Boris
von Cacklefur. Creepella is an enchanting and
mysterious mouse with a pet bat named Bitewing.
Her Secret: She has a crush on Geronimo Stilton!
BORIS
VON
CACKLEFUR
Who Is He? He runs Fabumouse Funerals, a
funeral home at 33 Dark Grave Drive. His hobbies
include writing romantic poetry and painting
graveyard scenes.
His Secret: He is in love with Tina Spicytail,
Geronimo’s grandfather’s cook!
spin a web!
SO GET READY
.”
Then she hung up.
I had to do something. My whiskers were
quivering
with fright!
I did
not
want to see Creepella! I did
not
want to ride in a hearse! I did
not
want
to go to Cacklefur Castle! I did
not
want
to meet Creepella’s family!
I quickly thought up a plan. I put on a pair
of dark glasses, a hat, and a raincoat. Then I
scurried to the back door. I opened it . . .
and
someone tripped me! I fell
right
on my
snout
.
I looked up into Creepella’s
green eyes.
“I know you so well,
my little pumpkin,” she
said, smiling. “I knew you
would put on a disguise
13
and try to escape out the back!”
Creepella picked me up and shoved me
into her hearse.
I shrieked. “I’m being mousenapped!”
I was in trouble.
Big
trouble
.
Creepella slid into the driver’s
seat. “How
do you like my hearse?” she asked. “Of
course, it doesn’t normally carry living mice.
But I’m sure you’ll be comfortable.”
“Putrid cheese puffs, get me
out of here!” I screamed.
Creepella just smiled. “You can’t escape,
Geronimo,” she said. “You might as well get
comfortable!”
“
H
e
e
e
e
e
e
e
e
e
e
e
l
p
!
”
“
L
E
T
M
E
O
U
T
!
”
How could I be comfortable in a hearse?
With Creepella?
I yelled.
Creepella winked at me. “You are going
to love Cacklefur Castle, my little ghostie-
whostie.”
Then she began to sing a little tune.
I sighed and put on my seat belt. There
was no escape.
Only one thought comforted me. If I
ever
did
get home, I would definitely have
something to
write
about!
15
“
W
e
a
r
e
g
o
i
n
g
t
o
C
a
c
k
l
e
f
u
r
C
a
s
t
l
e
.
I
t
’
s
c
r
e
a
k
y
a
n
d
d
r
e
a
r
y
a
n
d
g
r
a
y
.
W
e
’
r
e
g
o
i
n
g
t
o
C
a
c
k
l
e
f
u
r
C
a
s
t
l
e
.
A
n
d
f
o
r
e
v
e
r
a
n
d
e
v
e