100% Hero

by Jayne Lyons

  'That is so-ooo disgusting.' Priscilla was standing nearby and looking down her perfect nose at him. 'You treat it like it's an equal. Like it can think.'

  'Oh!' Freddy jumped up in surprise and, without thinking, pushed Batty away. 'Get down, down,' he ordered.

  'She's just a pet,' he told Priscilla.

  Batty's ears drooped and her tail fell between her legs. Freddy gathered his belongings together.

  'It's time to go – that is, if you want to come to camp with me.' Priscilla twirled her golden hair.

  'Of course I do,' Freddy shouted. 'I mean – yeah, that's cool.' He gave a not-so-bothered shrug.

  'So let's go then.' The perfect girl smiled and walked away.

  Batty watched her with a growl. She understood now that Freddy was going with the hateful girl. Why did he like her? Why couldn't he see just how horrid Priscilla was? She didn't trust the girl, or her father.

  Freddy had all his bags ready and was twitching with excitement. He pulled a baseball cap onto his sticky-up hair.

  'It's just for a few weeks, don't worry,' he said when he saw his friend's ears droop ever further. He bent down to stroke her.

  'Freddy!' Priscilla yelled.

  He drew back his hand with a guilty jump and did not pat his friend.

  'Oh well, see you then.' He ran to the door.

  Batty watched the car depart with a sad heart.

  Freddy, however, was not sad in the least. He sat opposite Priscilla and her father on the train to Inverness, rocking backwards and forwards eagerly.

  'How long till we get there?' he shouted at Chester, his sharp teeth showing.

  'Eight hours,' that gentleman replied, flicking open his newspaper.

  'Cool.'

  Priscilla was busy reading a magazine.

  Freddy looked at the green hills and trees whizzing by, his head still pumping to a silent beat. He began to drum on the table with two pens.

  Priscilla and Chester raised their papers higher. Freddy played his teeth with the pens, like a xylophone. He paused.

  'What's the place called again?'

  'Drumbogie House,' Chester replied irritably from behind the page. It was going to be a long journey.

  'Drumbogie House?' Freddy repeated with a guffaw.

  No one answered him. 'Bogie – get it?' Still they ignored him.

  Freddy found that if he made a constant low, growling, retching noise, the sound of it changed as the train rattled over the rails. If he put his fingers in his ears, it was amplified, so he could play a tune inside his head. It sounded even better if he held down a nostril and honked. Chester's paper began to shake. Freddy farted the tune in accompaniment.

  'Great horned toads, boy!' Everyone in the carriage jumped as Chester slammed his paper down. 'You make more noise than the Boldovian National Band.' It was the first time he had forgotten to be charming. His moustache was trembling. Priscilla simply continued reading with a sweet smile.

  'It wasn't me.' Freddy shrugged, not seeing what all the fuss was about. Chester was the only one making noise.

  Chester returned to his newspaper with a shudder. A little boy, looking over the back of his seat, seemed scared of the loud man. Freddy grinned at him and made a circular sign next to his ear, then pointed, to indicate that Chester was a nutcase. The gentleman looked up. Freddy quickly leaned his head on his hand, as if in deep thought. The little boy laughed. When Chester disappeared behind his paper again, Freddy stuck out his tongue at him. The boy laughed again. Freddy would have to get used to having adoring fans. Next he demonstrated his great gurning abilities: he pulled his lower lip up to his nose and dragged the skin under his eyes down. The boy clapped. Freddy had a new idea. He stuck a pen up each nostril and waggled his ears. The little boy cheered.

  Priscilla looked up. She was clearly impressed too! Freddy gave a cheesy grin. It was going to be a fun journey.

  'You are, like, so-ooo . . . cool,' Priscilla observed and turned back to her magazine. The Treasure of Bane had better be worth it.

  'How long till we get there?' Freddy stuck his head over the top of Chester's newspaper. One of the pens fell out of his nose and onto the man's lap.

  'Seven hours and forty-five minutes,' Chester growled, holding up the pen in disgust. A clinging bogie was clearly visible.

  Freddy took the pen and leaned back on his seat. He saw the bogie and, after a second's thought, wiped it on the chair next to him.

  'Is this seat taken, young man?' an old gentleman wearing a suit asked him, pointing at the empty chair next to Freddy.

  He stared for a moment at the bogie and then gave a charming smile. 'No, it's free,' he nodded.

  His smile stayed frozen in place as the old man sat down gratefully. The little boy laughed again. Freddy looked out of the window with an innocent expression. His head began to beat again to the jolting of the train.

  His smile collapsed as he saw a massive pair of buttocks approaching on a billboard in a field. 'Have you seen the wild wolf-boy?' it asked. He hid his face as his Blavendoch flew past. It took some time to recover.

  When the old man left the train two hours later, Freddy was proud to see his bogie had gone too. Mission successful.

  'Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored,' Freddy groaned, his head on the table. He was too weary with tedium to lift it. Chester was snoring.

  'How about Truth or Dare?' Priscilla said with a smile.

  'What's that?' Freddy opened one eyelid.

  'Well, I ask you questions and you tell the truth – or do the dare.' She leaned forward in her chair. 'Or are you too chicken?'

  'No way!' Freddy shot up in his seat.

  'And you can't lie,' she warned, raising her eyebrow.

  'I never lie,' Freddy lied.

  'Yes you do. You told Mrs Mutton that it wasn't you who flew her knickers from the flag pole.'

  Freddy's eyes began to flutter and he felt his ears twitching. 'They blew up there on their own,' he said after a pause.

  'No they didn't, I saw you.'

  Freddy sulked.

  'I'll know if you lie and then you'll lose,' Priscilla continued

  Freddy looked sceptical. 'How?'

  'Because your eyes will blink and your ears will waggle.'

  'No way.' Freddy shook his head. It couldn't be true. How terrible if he could never escape with a little fib again.

  'Say, "My name is Trixie-Bell",' Priscilla demanded.

  'But it isn't,' Freddy countered.

  'Say it.'

  'It's a girl's name.'

  'Just say it – I dare you.'

  'My name is Trixie-Bell!' he blurted.

  'They're wiggling.' Priscilla laughed in triumph.

  Freddy grabbed his ears, distraught.

  'And you're blinking.' Priscilla sat back as if bored with the world.

  Freddy tried to keep his eyelids still.

  'So-ooo easy. Now, Truth or Dare, and no cheating.'

  Freddy really didn't want to play Truth or Dare now, not if he had to tell the real truth, but he didn't want to seem like a cowardly custard either.

  'What's the dare?' he asked.

  'See that great oaf over there?' Priscilla nodded down the carriage.

  'Which one?' Freddy craned his neck.

  'Vinny,' she replied.

  'How do you know his name?'

  'Because he's written "Vinny" on his forehead with a texta.'

  Freddy knelt up on his seat and looked back. Vinny was about thirteen, had a skinhead haircut, lots of scary-looking muscles, and, as Priscilla had noticed, his name written on his head in black pen.

  Vinny caught Freddy staring and glared back. Freddy slunk back down in his seat.

  'What about him?' he asked nervously.

  'If you lose, you must tell Vinny that he's a big girlie fluff bunny!' Priscilla's eyes glittered.

  'But he'll marmalatter me!' Freddy gaped in horror.

  'Only if you lose.' Priscilla shrugged.

  Freddy nodded. His stomach
was starting to ache.

  Priscilla spoke very quietly, so no-one else could hear over her father's loud snores.

  'What's your name?'

  'Freddy Lupin.' So far, so easy.

  'Are you a wolf?'

  'Yes!' Easy-peasy.

  'Are you a poodle?'

  'Erm . . .' Freddy paused. '. . . Yes.'

  'Are you a yellow-bellied-pathetic-little-lamebrainloser- of-a-coward?' Priscilla smiled.

  'No!'

  'Oh, I didn't think so.'

  She thought for a moment.

  'Have you heard of the Treasure of Bane?' Her voice dropped even lower, a bright sparkle in her pretty eyes.

  'No,' Freddy said without hesitation. Priscilla narrowed her eyes, but his ears weren't moving – he really didn't know.

  She tried again. 'Is there a secret passage in Farfang?' Freddy paused.

  Chester had stopped snoring and was in fact holding his breath. One eye opened ever so slightly.

  Freddy was not supposed to tell anyone.

  'Truth or Dare!' Priscilla sang and batted her eyelashes.

  'Yes, there is.' Freddy nodded, biting his lip a little. 'But I've never seen it.'

  Priscilla smiled again. 'So where is the entrance?'

  'I don't know.'

  'You must know!' Priscilla cried. People looked around.

  'Only the Grand Growler knows,' Freddy said honestly.

  'Only your Daddy?' Priscilla snorted. 'But he's a wolf now, we can't ask him.'

  'Perhaps Uncle Hotspur knows – he was once the Grand Growler too.'

  Chester's eyebrows shot up and he started in his seat.

  'But he's been locked up in Dundaggard Castle ever since I defeated him and saved all werefolk from destruction.' Freddy posed heroically.

  'Humph!' Priscilla pursed her lips. This idiot didn't know anything.

  'So do I win?' Freddy laughed in triumph.

  'I haven't finished yet! Do you have a girlfriend?'

  'No way! I hate girls.'

  'Don't you like any girls?' she said evilly.

  Freddy started to blink rapidly. 'No . . .'

  'Not even a little teensy bit?' she grimaced in a little sulk and twirled her hair.

  Freddy's ears began to waggle.

  'No,' he said desperately, his face purple with humiliation.

  'So you don't like me, Freddy?' Priscilla's bottom lip came out and tears filled her eyes.

  'Yes! No!' His ears and eyes were going mad.

  'Oh dear, Freddy.' Priscilla frowned in sympathy. 'Yes and no? One has to be a lie – you lose!'

  'Not fair!' Freddy cried.

  'Dare,' Priscilla laughed in delight.

  'Oh, great howls.' Freddy's stomach went tight again. 'Do I have to?'

  'Yes, if you really are the Second Greatest Werewolf Hero Ever.' Priscilla nodded without sympathy. 'But if you are just a cowardly poodle who has dogs for friends, then no, I'd hardly expect you to keep your word.'

  Freddy flushed red, but he'd heard that scarylooking guys often weren't so bad if you faced up to them. Still, his legs shook a little as he walked down the carriage. Priscilla watched in amusement as Freddy halted next to Vinny and his friends. The boys were throwing crisps into each other's mouths and burping them back out. Vinny looked at Freddy and belched. A soggy piece of crisp flew onto Freddy's nose. He went cross-eyed as he focused on it.

  'What do you want then, squirt?' Vinny hissed.

  'Loser,' another laughed.

  'Scum,' observed a third.

  Freddy was outraged. Who were these oafs to call him names? He was descended from the most noble line of heroes. His picture was going to hang next to Sir Rathbone's.

  'Well, I've got a message for you,' Freddy announced, 'from your boyfriend!' He nodded as they all caught their breath at his cheek. 'He says you're a "big girly fluff bunny", so who's the loser now? You, sir!' He pointed his finger. 'With ketchup on!'

  Freddy watched as Vinny's face began to shake, ripples running over the black letters on his forehead.

  'Hoo-aah!' The furious boy jumped up and glared at Freddy in disbelief.

  'Oops!' Freddy's head tilted back as he took in the bigger, stronger boy's full height. He turned and sprinted down the carriage as Vinny leapt for him. Priscilla squealed with delight.

  'Sorry, whoops, coming through. Quick!' Freddy yelled as he ran.

  'Hoo-aah!' he heard behind him.

  'Oh, great howls!'

  His way was blocked by the refreshments trolley. Freddy trampolined onto a seat and hurtled over its back. He landed with a crash on someone's burger.

  'Sorry,' he said to the man, whose face was covered in squirts of tomato sauce and mustard.

  'Hoo-aah!'

  Freddy rolled onto the floor and scampered away under the seats. Vinny lost sight of him and raced on down the corridor. Freddy crept back a little, and lay hidden behind a long bag, his heart beating fast.

  After what seemed an age, Vinny gave up the hunt and Freddy let out a sigh of relief. It was, in the end, a very unheroic arrival he made in Inverness Station, only crawling out from the dust when he was sure all was safe.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Drumbogie

  It was late at night when their car drove over the highlands and through the glens towards Drumbogie.

  'I'm going to be really good at canoeing for sure,' Freddy told Priscilla, who was doing her best not to hear. 'I hate to brag, but because of my Fangen blood I'm good at pretty much all extreme sports.'

  'I'm so glad you hate to brag,' Priscilla said with a bored sigh. 'Oh, Papa, are we nearly there yet? It's taking forever.'

  'Nearly there, my jewel.' Chester said, staring out into the dark night.

  'Sailing, climbing, abseiling, windsurfing . . . which do you think I'll be best at?' Freddy leaned forward from the back seat and tapped Priscilla's shoulder.

  'Oh, Freddy,' she gasped, 'I think you're going to find your real talent at Drumbogie.' Then she gave a loud laugh. Chester chuckled a little. Freddy glowed with pride at her words. Priscilla had seen at last just how fantastic he was. It was going to be the best summer of his life.

  It would be harsh to blame him for forgetting the danger his father and all werefolk were in, or how sad Batty might be feeling, for who wouldn't have been excited at the thought of adventure camp, with perfect Priscilla Puceley?

  Freddy could hardly contain himself as the car turned into a large stone gateway. Fierce, horrific gargoyles with distorted faces glared down at them, sticking out their tongues, their eyes bulging.

  'Creepy Camp!' Freddy laughed, bouncing up and down on his seat.

  The gates clanged shut behind them. Freddy didn't see the sign that had been placed on them. He strained to see anything as the car drove along a dark winding lane with thick rhododendron bushes on each side. Then suddenly the car turned onto a gravel clearing in front of a large, grim-looking grey house. Its many small windows looked like dull black eyes. Again the gargoyles stared down from the roof. Freddy looked doubtful. He had imagined log cabins around a loch, and sausages cooking over campfires.

  'So far, so weird,' he said.

  Priscilla didn't look that pleased either. 'Papa . . .' she started to complain.

  'Just remember why you're here, princess,' he reminded her.

  'Humph,' she sulked, throwing her bag onto the floor. Chester whispered something in her ear and she gave a small smile, her eyes glittering like precious jewels.

  Light shone onto the gravel as the front door swung open with a loud creak. Freddy turned with a big grin – which slowly slipped off his face. He had expected to see an adventure leader – a big army sergeant or RAF squadron leader – but instead a tiny little lady with a walking stick and a tight black bun hobbled out to meet them. She wore spectacles that made her eyes look like tiny slits and was so thin she could have hidden behind a lamppost. When she stood, her heels clicked together and her feet pointed sideways. She gave a little curtsy.

 
; 'My dear Madam Tarot, how marvellous to see you again. And as beautiful as I remember.' Chester took the lady's hand and kissed it.

  Priscilla's feet were likewise turned sideways when she gave a curtsy in return. The lady gave a slight smile but, as she turned to Freddy, her thin lips squeezed into a line of disapproval. Freddy noticed a huge mole on her chin, from which long black hairs reached out.

  Freddy jumped up, gave the air a karate kick and then landed like a ninja warrior. He gave her the coolest nod ever performed by a mortal boy. He would already be marked out as the best adventurer in this camp. He could see that Priscilla thought so. But the lady's eyes were like ice. She turned away from Freddy.

  'You muzt be Priszilla,' she said. 'I knew your muzzer, ze archduchess. I hear you have inherited her talent. Ve are honoured to rezeive you here at our 'umble school.'

  Freddy looked over in surprise. He had no idea that Priscilla was a famous extreme sports girl – so much the better. He would need someone able to keep up with him . . . just so long as she wasn't better than him. It wouldn't do to be beaten by a girl.

  'I'm famous too!' he butted in. 'I'm like almost the world champion at rock-sailing, I mean windclimbing.' His hands were on his hips and his ears were waggling. 'And ab-surfing.'

  Madam Tarot turned back to him with a raised eyebrow.

  'And zis, I zuppose, iz ze boy you spoke of,' she said to Chester, while glancing at Freddy with disgust.

  'Yes, I'm a mole!' Freddy had been staring at her chin. 'I mean a boy! And don't worry, I won't try too hard against the girls. Wart, erm, what I mean is, I'll easily beat them without trying.'

  Madam Tarot took a step closer and inspected Freddy as if he were a type of insect she had never seen before. She looked up in revulsion as Freddy's stomach made the most appalling noise. It sounded like a tiny brass band was trying to play trombones through his belly button. He gave a loud burp.

  'Oh, that's better.' He rubbed his stomach. 'I'm so starving. If you show me to the boys' campfire, I'll be okay once I get some food. I eat sausages every day, sometimes twenty.'

  'Boyz' camp?' Madam Tarot repeated with a scowl. Freddy nodded eagerly. 'Zauzages?' She pursed her lips and looked over at Chester. 'Ze boy iz like you zaid . . . zun idiotten.'