Secret of the Changeling

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Secret of the Changeling Page 6

by Tommy Donbavand


  “Fennel!” spat the queen. “How lovely to see you again!”

  “Is it true?” Cleo asked him. “Is she really a dark fairy?”

  Fennel nodded. “One of such power as has not been witnessed for an age.”

  “But I know the story of Little Red Riding Hood,” said Cleo. “And I don’t remember her being a vampire – even a pretend one!”

  “Tales of the dark folk have been told for generations,” Fennel explained. “Mostly as a warning to others. It is not impossible for embellishments and changes to have occurred over the centuries.” He turned to face the room. “In fact, I believe the latest version of Snow Fright’s tale has her dwarves setting off for work each morning in a diamond mine!” The other fairies laughed at the idea.

  “So, what will you do with her?” asked Cleo.

  Fennel sighed. “Alas, I do not know,” he admitted. “I would suggest a similar punishment to that which she inflicted upon us – imprisonment in a magic mirror. But there are no mirrors left in the fairy realm. The queen had them all smashed in case we found a way to travel from one to another after she sealed us in.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” declared Resus, re-entering the throne room dressed in his own clothes again. Two fairies flew in behind him, each carrying one of the little girls.

  “I thought you used your final mirror back in the woods?” said Cleo.

  “I did,” grinned Resus. “But luckily I’m not the only one who’s vain!” Stepping over to Prince Harming, he reached into the vampire hunter’s pocket and pulled out the battered old hand mirror.

  “Perfect,” said Fennel. He took the mirror from Resus and pulled out his magic wand.

  “No!” screamed the queen. “You can’t do this to me!”

  “I’m not just doing it to you,” said the fairy. “I’m doing it to both of you…”

  Prince Harming finally found his tongue. “What?” he cried. “No! Don’t put me in there with her! I’ll do anything, just lock me up by myself! Please!”

  Fennel cast his spell and there was a flash of white sparkles. When they cleared, the Crimson Queen and Prince Harming were both squashed up against the glass of the tiny mirror. “Now,” said the fairy, “let’s find a nice, safe place to put this where it won’t be disturbed.”

  “I can’t believe it’s all over,” said Cleo, hugging both Ditto and Poppy.

  “Er … excuse me!” They all turned to see Luke, now back in human form, rolling towards them inside his giant bubble. “What’s going on?”

  Luke and Resus climbed through the new Hex Hatch straight from the throne room and into the garden of 27 Scream Street. Cleo followed, holding a small, blonde toddler by the hand.

  “Poppy!” Luella cried. She raced across the garden to hug her daughter. “Thank you so much!” she cried.

  “Our pleasure,” Luke smiled. “We were happy to help.”

  “You might not be too happy when you hear our news,” said Eefa. “We haven’t been able to break the spell sealing Femur’s tomb.”

  “So we still can’t get in?” asked Cleo.

  “I’m sorry,” said Eefa, shaking her head. “The magic is just too strong for us.”

  “But not, perhaps, for us?” suggested Fennel, flying in through the Hex Hatch behind them, Ditto in his arms. Eefa and Luella stared in amazement as a dozen more fairies appeared behind him.

  “You wanted to know what this little one’s secret is,” said Fennel, landing gently beside the group.

  “That’s right,” replied Cleo, “but we couldn’t work it out.”

  Fennel’s eyes sparkled. “Then watch…” He put Ditto down on the grass and waved his magic wand over her. There was another burst of white sparkles and, suddenly, a beautiful fairy dressed in a glistening silver robe was standing in the changeling’s place. The other fairies all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

  “What’s going on?” asked Luke.

  “I’m the Fairy Godmother,” explained the silver fairy. “The true Queen of the Fairy Realm.”

  “But a minute ago you were just an annoying – er, I mean … a changeling,” gasped Resus.

  “That is what we hoped you would believe,” the Fairy Godmother smiled.

  Luke’s eyes widened. “So you took Poppy’s place and sent her to the palace in the fairy realm?”

  “We had no choice,” said the Fairy Godmother. “We didn’t have enough power to escape Little Red’s imprisonment, but by combining our magic, the fairies were just able to disguise me and make the switch in the hope of attracting rescuers from outside our world.”

  “That’s a heck of a secret!” said Resus. “I always thought it would be something like the ability to burp a selection of nursery rhymes.”

  “I can do that, too,” said the fairy queen with a wink, “but we’ll save it for another day…”

  “Can you help us?” Luke asked her. “Can you break the spell surrounding the tomb?”

  “I shall certainly try,” replied the Fairy Godmother, producing a silver magic wand. She waved it in front of the tomb, and to the children’s delight, the stone door instantly slid open.

  “You did it!” cried Cleo.

  “Thank you so much!” said Luke.

  “It’s nothing compared to how you have helped my people,” smiled the Fairy Godmother. “We are the ones who should thank you.” Then she flapped her wings, rose up in the air and flew back into her own realm, her subjects close behind.

  Once the fairies had left Scream Street and the Hex Hatch had closed behind them, Resus took Femur’s skull from his cloak. “Go on, then,” he said, handing the relic to Luke.

  “No,” replied Luke. “This one we all do together.” So he, Resus and Cleo stepped inside the tomb and placed the skull at the top of the skeleton lying inside.

  “Did it work?” asked Femur Ribs, sitting up.

  Screams could be heard in the central square as the green section of the doorway to Luke’s world exploded in a shower of sparks, shrinking the entrance. “It certainly sounds like it,” grinned Cleo. “Thank you, Femur!”

  “My pleasure,” replied the skeleton. “Now – let’s go and see the fun.”

  The trio helped their friend to her feet and dashed back out into the garden to catch the last of the emerald fireworks as they exploded in the afternoon sky.

  “Only one more relic to give back,” grinned Luke, putting an arm around each of his friends.

  “Which might be difficult from where you’re going,” gurgled an unfamiliar voice.

  Before the trio could see who had spoken, Luke was pulled roughly away from Resus and Cleo, and a pair of handcuffs was slipped over his wrists and locked. He looked up to find himself surrounded by Movers in brown jumpsuits.

  Luke paled. “What are you doing?” he yelled, tugging at the handcuffs.

  A man with green, scaly skin stepped into view. He wore a smart business suit, which appeared to be soaked with water. “Don’t struggle,” he glugged, gills at the sides of his throat flapping. “It will only make things worse for you and your friends.”

  Luke looked around and saw that Resus and Cleo had also been captured. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “My name is Acrid Belcher,” replied the man. “Head of the Government Housing Of Unusual Life-forms – or G.H.O.U.L., as you youngsters like to call it.”

  Resus took a deep breath. “This isn’t good…”

  “No, Master Negative, it isn’t,” spat Belcher, water dribbling from his thick, rubbery lips. “This isn’t good at all! You are under arrest for opening a doorway to another world and allowing normals to enter Scream Street!”

  “We only did the doorway bit,” cried Cleo. “It was Sir Otto Sneer who brought the normals in!”

  “And a profitable little venture it’s been, too,” laughed the landlord, entering the garden at that very moment. “Here you go, Belcher, my old mucker,” he said, handing the slippery green man a wedge of money. “Your cut from this week’s t
akings.”

  “They’re in it together!” Resus exclaimed.

  Sir Otto plucked his cigar out of his mouth. “Who’d have thought I’d finally meet a freak I get along with – and a slime beast, at that!”

  Luke glared up at him. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re really Zeal Chillchase in disguise.”

  The landlord bit down on his cigar and stroked the white silk scarf around his neck. “Tough luck, kid.”

  “Zeal Chillchase no longer works for G.H.O.U.L.,” bubbled Acrid Belcher. “Once his role in this fiasco was uncovered, he was punished.”

  “What have you done to him?” demanded Cleo.

  Belcher smiled, and as he did so his gills stretched out alarmingly. “The same as I plan to do to you.”

  “Our parents won’t let you get away with this,” Luke growled at the slime beast. “Someone will tell them and they’ll put a stop to it.”

  “On the contrary, I will tell them myself!” snarled Belcher. “Your parents will be coming with us to G.H.O.U.L. headquarters. After all, it would be very boring if there was no one there to watch me pass sentence.” He turned to the nearest Mover and placed a wet, slimy hand against his forehead. “Take the prisoners away!” he ordered.

  Epilogue

  Mr and Mrs Watson gripped the bars of the viewing area as they watched the Movers march Luke, Resus and Cleo over to the trapdoor. Niles Farr and Resus’s mum and dad were with them. The trip through the Hex Hatch to G.H.O.U.L. headquarters had been made in silence, apart from the occasional sob from Bella Negative.

  The trio had their hands tied and they stood, staring miserably at their parents as Acrid Belcher approached, clutching a roll of parchment. Cleo began to shake. Resus fought back tears as he caught sight of his mum’s stricken face.

  “Defendants,” the slime beast gurgled. “You have been charged with opening a magical doorway out of a G.H.O.U.L. community, allowing thousands of normals to enter and disrupt the lives of its residents. Do you deny these charges?”

  “You don’t understand,” protested Luke. “I just wanted a way to take my mum and dad home…”

  “Then you admit to collecting the six founding fathers’ relics and using their power to open a doorway back to your old world?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Enough!” barked Belcher. “You are guilty of the charges brought against you, and sentence will now be passed.”

  Luke gulped and didn’t say any more.

  “Luke Watson, Resus Negative, Cleo Farr – you will now be banished to the Underlands for the rest of your natural lives, however long that might be.”

  Acrid Belcher grasped the lever beside him and pulled it back hard. The trapdoor swung open with a barely audible creak, plunging Luke, Resus and Cleo into the dark, swirling abyss beneath…

  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

  10: Rampage of the Goblins

  11: Hunger of the Yeti

  Coming soon – the final instalment…

  13: Flame of the Dragon

  Tommy Donbavand was born and brought up in Liverpool and has worked at numerous careers, including actor, theatre producer, children’s entertainer, clown (called Wobblebottom), drama teacher and writer. His non-fiction books for children and their parents, such as Boredom Busters and Quick Fixes for Bored Kids, 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 says the idea for comedy-horror series Scream Street came from wondering what it would be like to live in a haunted house – and to have another haunted house next door. Before long he had invented a whole street of horrific homes and populated this nightmarish neighbourhood with every kind of scary creature he could imagine.

  When he’s not writing, Tommy likes to make balloon animals and play the harmonica – and he dreams of the day when he’ll be able to do both at the same time.

  www.tommydonbavand.com

  www.screamstreet.co.uk

  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 2011 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2011 Tommy Donbavand

  Illustrations © 2011 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 978-1-4063-3550-7 (ePub)

  ISBN 978-1-4063-3551-4 ((e-PDF)

  www.walker.co.uk

 

 

 


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