100% Hero

by Jayne Lyons

  'That's bad,' Freddy agreed, his toes squashing Batty's eyebrows, 'because you're going to be on TV. There's a camera over there filming you.'

  Flasheart turned in dismay and saw the camera for the first time.

  'That's very bad,' he called, and slammed against the cage door again. It was no use. The cage was designed for lions. He glanced at the clock. It was 3.00 am. It would be dawn in two and half hours, then – disaster.

  'Dad, all they know now is that you're a really weird big wolf,' said Freddy, bobbing up again. 'You mustn't transform back.'

  'Yes, I am a mighty wolf, pup, but even I have no powers to stop that,' Flasheart said calmly. 'Only a Moonstone can prevent the Transwolfation.'

  'A Moonstone! Of course!' Freddy cried, a plan pinging into his head. 'Dad, try not to transform. I promise we'll be back in time.'

  'Freddy, wait . . . you must warn the Fang Council. Forget about me, you must protect the werefolk's identities,' Flasheart called, but Freddy had already rolled off Batty's shoulders.

  He jumped up with an excited gleam in his green eyes.

  'What is it, Stinky?' she woofed.

  'Coldfax,' Freddy cried.

  'Coldfax?' Batty's hairy ears immediately drooped. 'I never want to go back to that place.'

  'We must,' Freddy yipped, and scampered off towards the zoo gates.

  'But why?' Batty asked as she squeezed under the gate after him.

  'Because there's a Moonstone in the dungeons.' Freddy laughed at the brilliance of his plan. 'If we run, we'll make it.'

  'But what about the ghost hound?' Batty was worried. The thought of returning to that dismal prison frightened her.

  'My dad was the ghost hound. There's no-one left in that place to scare you any more,' he said, puffing his chest out.

  'What about Cerberus?' Batty remembered the wolfhound – their old jailer. 'He was real enough, and so were his fangs. Some dogs reckon that he still prowls those dungeons.'

  'Oh . . .' Freddy's chest deflated again. 'We have to take the risk.' He sounded braver than he felt.

  'Okay,' Batty sighed, and followed him.

  Even so, she had an uneasy feeling that there was danger ahead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Enemies Old and New

  Some time earlier, Mrs Mutton's snores were rattling the floorboards of her bedroom in Farfang Castle. She wasn't worried about Flasheart or Freddy; those two would be running all night under the moonlight.

  Chester Puceley, however, was wide awake. He was standing in the room that had been Sir Hotspur's study, looking out at the bright moon and whispering into the telephone.

  'And so the wolf came, exactly as I told you?' He gave a croaky laugh. 'You shot him with a tranquilliser? Excellent.'

  The small man stroked his moustache and listened.

  'No! I may need him alive, but if he tries to escape – shoot him.'

  Chester put down the phone and turned to his daughter, who was sitting in the leather chair, yawning loudly.

  'Well, my precious jewel . . .' Chester chucked his daughter under the cheek. 'Your plan worked. You led him straight into our little trap.'

  'Oh, Papa, it was sooo easy. That idiot Freddy would do anything for me . . . and of course his daddy had to protect him . . . how pathetic. But I'm so tired.'

  'I know, my princess, but we don't have much time. The wolf is out of the way but who knows where that idiot boy is.' Chester pulled out an old piece of parchment as he spoke.

  Priscilla knelt up on the chair and looked at the ancient piece of paper. It was like a set of plans for a building, with several archways and what seemed to be the outlines of four rooms. In three of the corners was a symbol: a flower, a moon and a stone.

  'What does it mean?' she asked with a frown.

  'I believe it to be a plan of Farfang,' said Chester, tracing his finger over the lines of the drawing. 'Not of the castle we know, but what's underneath.' He pointed to the archways. 'If we can find just one of these entrances, nothing can stop us finding the Treasure of Bane. We have a right to it as much as the Lupins.'

  Priscilla's beautiful eyes shone bright with greed.

  The ancient documents that Dravin had brought to Boldovia had mentioned a great secret buried in the vaults below the castle – the secret inheritance of the Hidden Moonlight Gathering of Werefolk. Exactly what the treasure was Chester wasn't sure, but he had no doubt that it could bring power and wealth beyond his imagining. And the Puceleys were desperate for money. Priscilla could almost see the diamonds and jewels that would decorate her shiny blonde hair; she could see the looks of envy and jealousy in the eyes of all who beheld her.

  'How do we find the entrance?' she gasped.

  'I'm not sure, my princess,' Chester confessed.

  'Papa! I want those jewels,' she cried, slamming her finger on the sheet of paper. 'They belong to me!'

  'Hush, my sweet – Papa will get them for you, but we have to search. The doors will be well hidden. These are the clues.' He pointed to the three symbols. 'Did you find anything while exploring with that idiot boy?'

  'Only his slugs.' Priscilla shook her head. 'He's so lame. I can't believe he's really a poodle . . . urgh.'

  'Well, let's just be thankful that he's such a fool,' Chester laughed. 'Horned toads! No poodle will get in my way. But be quiet – we don't want to wake up that hideous old trout, Mutton.'

  Priscilla giggled and took her torch. She wasn't scared of hunting through the dark old castle – the vision of bright jewels lit her way.

  Hundreds of miles away, in the far north of Scotland, Flasheart's brother Hotspur stared at the bright, beautiful moon, and his skin itched in frustration. The Moonstone, chained around his neck as punishment by the Fang Council, tormented him with shame. There was no disgrace, no humiliation worse for a Fangen than to stand under the warmth of the magical beams of the moon and remain as a man. The winds of the night carried the distant howling of wolves to his spot in the courtyard of Dundaggard Castle. It was Laird McDaggard and his sons, his jailers, running free on the highland moors. How could a poodle have reduced so noble a wolf to this? Sir Hotspur ground his teeth in fury and vowed again his revenge.

  'I will crush that foolster Frederick,' he cried. 'Crush him like a slimy snail, sir.' He glared in frustration at the high walls of his prison. Somehow he would escape, and when he did he would be Grand Growler once more. And then he would make Flasheart pay – his brother would regret ever returning from the dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Coldfax Revisited

  Freddy and Batty crept out of the woods that surrounded Coldfax Fort. They lay on the floor, catching their breath after the long run. The perfect moon shone down on the many dark windows of the now-deserted dog prison.

  Three sides of the building surrounded a courtyard. The fourth was a high iron fence, which housed a gate and portcullis. The metal grille was raised a little and the door to the cellblock stood open. The former commander had gone to live in the retirement village reserved for the grumpiest pet haters in Britain; no dog was allowed even within sight of it.

  Batty looked up at the walls, her ears flat with nerves.

  'I don't like it, Stinky. Something don't feel right.' She growled quietly and sniffed the air.

  Freddy, too, had a most uncomfortable feeling; however, he shrugged it off and puffed out his chest.

  'I am a wolf. I do not know fear,' he announced.

  Batty laughed. She knew for a fact that Freddy did know fear, and quite often.

  'Come on then, Stinky – but are you sure you know where to find the stone?'

  'Yes, the one that was chained around my neck was left in my dad's dungeon. The Fang Council collected that and hid it away somewhere. But the one in the ring that I stole from Cripp must still be down in the drains. It's our only chance.'

  Freddy was sounding more like a nervous poodle again and less like a hero.

  'No time to waste then, is there?' Batty whispered, and she began to
move forward, her stomach low to the ground like a sheepdog rounding up its flock.

  'Wait for me!' Freddy yipped and charged after her. 'I'm in the lead, it's my plan.'

  'Shush, Freddy.'

  He too tried running with his stomach to the floor, but only succeeded in ramming his chin into the ground.

  'Ouch!'

  'Be careful,' Batty hissed as she crept under the portcullis and into the courtyard.

  'But there's no-one to hear us,' Freddy yipped. He scampered up to the main door of the building and looked inside. In wolf form he would have been able to see in the dark as you might in a room lit by a warm red light. As a poodle, however, his eyes struggled.

  Batty smelt the air. She didn't like it one bit – there was something else alive in that place. Freddy tiptoed inside and looked around, his eyes becoming accustomed to the gloom. To his left was the office and to their right was the long corridor, along each side of which lay the empty cells. Their doors were open and shafts of moonlight shone down from the tiny high windows in long prisms of blue light. There was total silence.

  'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' roared Freddy in triumph.

  Batty jumped high in the air with fright.

  'The return of the hero!' He began to parade down the corridor, stepping his legs high with pride like a prancing pony.

  'Couldn't keep this wolf locked up, could you?' he asked the empty air.

  'No!' he answered himself when nobody else bothered to.

  Batty cringed. Why couldn't they have just crept in and out without making a sound?

  'Will you shush?' she growled.

  One of the cell doors behind them slammed shut with a horrible echoing clang. Freddy's tail immediately fell and he and Batty swung around. The hair on his head went tight with fright.

  'Just the wind,' Batty said, and pointed the way forward with her ear. 'Now keep quiet, will you?'

  Freddy nodded. The two friends continued down the corridor, a little more nervous now.

  'This was our cell.' Batty paused at the door and shuddered. They walked into the tiny room. The floor was made of stone flags, and in the centre was a hole around thirty centimetres square. They looked down it into the large drain below. There was a slow trickle of water. Somewhere down in that slime was the stone that could save Flasheart from discovery.

  Freddy suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of danger. The last thing he wanted to do was to jump down into that dark hole. Batty sensed this.

  'Come on, Freddy, you can do it, follow me.' With that the brave mongrel jumped down with a splash and disappeared from view. Freddy took a deep breath and, with his heart beating fast, followed her.

  In the cell opposite, eight red eyes peered out from a hiding place under the straw and gleamed in the dark.

  Freddy landed on his back in the slime with a groan.

  'Land on your feet next time,' Batty said helpfully.

  'Oh, der, thanks for the advice.' Freddy looked around in the gloom, unable to see anything. 'I hope the poo has washed away by now.' He frowned at the feel of the clammy water around his feet.

  'What poo?' Batty asked, her pretty muzzle wrinkling.

  'You don't want to know.' Freddy laughed, remembering how he had removed Dr Cripp's ring from his bowels.

  'I don't see the Stone of Moon,' Batty growled, sniffing the floor. 'Perhaps the water has washed it further down. Come on – let's go this way.' With her nose to the ground and her black-and-white tail swishing high, she scampered off into the dark.

  'That's what I was going to say. I knew that!' Freddy complained, chasing after her. It was he who was the Plan Master.

  They searched, following the trickle of water down one tunnel and into the next for what seemed forever, with no luck. Rats ran away from them, with a scurry of jumping grey fur.

  'That's right,' Freddy whispered to himself. 'Run in fear from me – this hero never flees.'

  Snails and slugs crawled up the dripping stone walls. None of this bothered Batty or Freddy – in fact, the longer they were in the tunnels, the less nervous they felt. Their eyes were now quite used to the gloom and they could see enough to search for the ring. The only problem was that now Freddy could also see what had at first been invisible in the dark . . . including dark bundles of black fingers moving across the roof, just above their heads.

  'What's that?' he croaked, pointing his ear up.

  'Oh, it's just spiders! That's what I could smell,' Batty said in relief. 'Come on, this way.' She took a left turn, following the stream.

  'Spiders . . .' Freddy's ears fell in horror.

  'Nothing for no wolf to worry about.' Batty laughed at the idea.

  'No . . .' Freddy mumbled, but his heart pounded nonetheless. Of course, he could never admit to anyone that he, Second Greatest Wolf Hero Ever, the heir of Flasheart and Sir Rathbone, was 100 per cent most absolutely terrified of spiders. He would happily eat twenty slugs rather than have one spider touch him. He would almost rather it was Cerberus in those tunnels after all.

  'Oh, great howls . . .' he growled and rushed on, not daring to look up. How he wished he had never disobeyed his father.

  Batty stopped suddenly.

  Freddy crashed into her.

  'Look.' Batty nudged him.

  There, ahead of them, a shaft of moonlight had somehow found its way through a drain above, probably in one of the courtyards. Lying in the dark, slimy water was the ring and the stone within it was lighting up the tunnel with a cold blue light.

  'The Moonstone!' Freddy yapped and jumped up in delight. 'Oh, ha-ha-hardy-ha. I was right. I am a genius!'

  Batty's eyes flew to the ceiling.

  'Oh yes, my fans will tell many a tale about this night,' he assured her. He puffed out his poodley chest and struck a heroic pose, such as might appear in a future statue of himself.

  Batty's ears jumped high as she heard a sound – a distant splash. They needed to take the ring and leave as quickly and quietly as possible. Perhaps there was something other than spiders with them in those dark drains after all. She turned back to Freddy and her eyes opened even wider in alarm.

  'Oh yes, they will all talk of that great night when Freddy Lupin showed his bravery in the tombs of Coldfax!' the poodle elaborated.

  'Stinky, I want you to keep very, very still and calm,' Batty growled, her dark eyes narrow. 'And whatever you do, keep quiet.'

  'Why wouldn't I be quiet?' Freddy stuck out his lower jaw, insulted. 'I am the king of calm, I'm always quiet.'

  'Good – 'cos I'm very carefully going to bash you on the head,' Batty said, taking a step towards him.

  'Why? What have I done?' Freddy yelled.

  'Shush,' Batty groaned. 'It ain't a big deal, it's just that there's an enormous spider on your head.'

  Freddy's ears shot up in horror. 'A what – where? There's a what on my what?'

  Before Batty could help him, the huge black hairy spider crawled down and looked into the poodle's terrified eyes. Freddy could see its hairy legs and eight red eyes. It seemed as big as a horse!

  'Argh!' Freddy gave a series of high-pitched screams of the girliest, most sissy variety. 'Argh!' he screamed again, frantically shaking his curly head from side to side.

  As promised, Batty bashed the spider off him with her paw. It landed with a splash in the mud and leapt up, ready for a fight, and was quickly joined by several of its friends. Freddy gasped and caught his breath, and that's when he saw what Batty had been smelling. The spiders parted to form a long corridor and there, emerging from the gloom into the cold blue light, was the largest of them all. A tarantula almost as big as Freddy himself. Its red eyes turned to him, ready for the kill.

  'Argh!' Freddy screamed and, forgetting his friend, his father, the Moonstone and his own fans, ran away as fast as his pretty poodle paws could carry him. With a quick bite, Batty snatched up the Moonstone and chased after him, pursued by the angry spiders. Their commotion rattled and echoed off the dank walls.

  'Groof!' Freddy crash
ed to a halt. He had slammed into a crisscrossed iron grate that covered the drain's exit. He looked down. The water from the drain was pouring out and down into a stream outside. The moon, now lower in the sky, was no longer shining so brightly. There was not much time left until dawn.

  'Stinky, are you okay?' Batty woofed as she caught up.

  'Yes, of course . . .' Freddy was embarrassed. He knew that he had not behaved like a hero. 'The Moonstone . . .' His ears fell in shame.

  'Safe and sound.' Batty dropped it on the ground with a wink. 'Now let's get out of this place, before they catch us.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  Doggie

  In his cage in the zoo's hospital, Flasheart was watching the fading moon with concern. He could see the small green light on the camera, which meant that the power was on. As the night sky grew brighter, he could feel his skin beginning to itch and tighten. He shrunk into the deepest shadows in the far corner of the cage, and tried his best to suppress his approaching Transwolfation back into a man.

  Farther down the corridor, a very small girl lay sleeping on a rumpled sofa in the canteen. Her curly black hair was tied into six little bunches. There was a loud crash outside the window. She sat up to look out and laughed at what she saw.

  Freddy and Batty had fled the drain and Coldfax, and run straight to the zoo. Freddy couldn't resist twitching his back as he ran, anxious that a spider might be hiding in his coat. Now he was circling the zoo hospital, looking for a way in.

  Freddy spotted a partially open window. He took a jump at the narrow gap, but missed and only succeeded in bashing his head on the wooden bar of the sash. He bounced off with a yelp and landed, upside down, with his head in a flowerpot. Batty could hear his muffled yelps of frustration, but couldn't help him – she was too busy laughing. Freddy ran into a post headfirst and the flowerpot smashed. He sat on his backside feeling a little dazed.

  'Again!' came a call from inside the building.

  The dogs jumped around in alarm. The little girl had opened the window fully and was leaning out, clapping.