by Jayne Lyons
'I know it was you who released that wolf. That beast was worth a lot of money to me,' he said coldly.
'How? The show donated him to the zoo. You're just their paid hunter.' Sugar put her nose in the air.
The marksman was thinking only of the money that Chester Puceley had promised him. Puceley had told him that if the beast should escape, it would head for Farfang Castle. The marksman didn't know why the wolf was special and he didn't care. He would get his money for delivering it dead or alive.
'Where are you going?' said Sugar, as he climbed back into his truck.
'To the castle gates,' he replied. 'To wait for it.'
'Oh, farts – we'll never get home now!' Freddy groaned from behind a tree.
Sugar glanced over to him nervously. As ever, Batty seemed to sense when her friend needed help. She howled her best impersonation of a wolf – a pretty good one too – and streaked across the road in front of the marksman. He just caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and gave a cry of fury – his prey was escaping! In a moment he had turned his truck and was chasing her back the way he had come.
'Batty, be careful,' Freddy called after her. She really was the bravest mongrel in the world. She had given them the chance they needed.
Flasheart walked up to Sugar, who reached forward and allowed the huge wolf to breathe on her hand.
Freddy interrupted them. 'Dad, shouldn't we chase him? We must help Batty.'
The wolf roused himself. No time – Farfang – danger, he signalled silently, and started to run towards the castle.
'You'd better come too, I suppose.' Freddy screwed his eyes up at Sugar uncertainly. His father seemed to trust her – but Freddy wasn't sure yet.
As they chased after Flasheart, Sugar explained to Freddy how she had helped the wolf escape.
'I sent a message to the guard that we had an intruder inside the lab and then locked him in!' She laughed a little. 'Oh dear, he was very angry. Then it was easy. I switched off the power and opened the cage.'
Freddy was impressed.
'But weren't you scared?' he asked, as they approached the gates of Farfang. 'For we Fangen are mighty and powerful beasts.'
Sugar looked at the skinny boy in his green leaf pants, his little poodley tail waggling behind.
'No, I trusted your father's eyes. I guessed that he wouldn't harm me,' she replied. 'Besides, I've seen prejudice before – and I try not to judge anyone, not even a wolf.'
Freddy smiled a little, showing his fangs.
'But can I just ask, sweetie – is it normal for little Fangen boys to have a tail?'
Freddy sighed and looked back at her pretty dark eyes. 'No. It's not normal,' he said grumpily.
'So you are very special, then?' She smiled and Freddy cheered up immediately.
'Oh yes, I'm very special indeed. In fact, probably the specialest.'
Using his nose on the digital pad, Flasheart had opened the electronic gates that protected Farfang. He was prowling anxiously outside the front door when Freddy and Sugar caught up. Freddy crossed his fingers and pushed the heavy door open. No luck! It squeaked as horribly loudly as ever. Sugar's high heels clicked and clacked across the stone floor and the noise echoed through the Great Hall.
'Great howls,' Freddy groaned, 'we have to be quiet.'
'Why?' Sugar frowned. 'Don't you want your family to know you're home and safe?'
'Well, my uncle wants to mince me into poodle pieces and my second cousin five times removed wants to shoot my dad,' Freddy told her. 'And Mrs Mutton will probably show me the wooden spoon.'
'Nice family.' Sugar raised her eyebrows.
'Yeah – you see what I have to put up with,' Freddy agreed.
Flasheart rolled his eyes, but then held his head high and sniffed the air. A sound echoed from deep below them. The wolf leapt across the Great Hall and down towards the dungeons. Freddy followed, leading Sugar down the dark stone steps into the gloom. The key to the dungeon was on a hook outside – Chester and Hotspur had not been expecting any visitors. The noise came from inside the first cell.
Freddy unlocked the door and flung it open.
'Mrs Mutton?' he cried in surprise. As he did, the old lady stood up – she still held the wooden spoon with which she had been banging the pipes.
'About time. So, you naughty young pups – what kept you?' she demanded, her hands on her hips.
'Well, I had to single-handedly defeat the foes of the Fangen first,' Freddy informed her.
'Oh, really?' She sounded unconvinced. 'Well, you didn't get them all. Hotair is back and more trouble then ever. Who's this?' She nodded at Sugar.
'That's Sugar – she's from the TV. She helped Dad escape.'
Flasheart gave a growl and raced up the stairs. The others followed close behind. Back in the Great Hall, the wolf sniffed the air – he couldn't smell his enemies but he was still concerned.
'And you, Flasheart Lupin, what kind of a scrape have you been in?' Mrs Mutton exclaimed. 'Locked up and on TV – worrying us all to bits.'
'I'm sorry about that,' Sugar whispered. 'It's all my fault.'
'Yes, it is,' Freddy agreed, remembering the sight of his Blavendoch advertised everywhere but forgetting his own mistakes.
He suddenly shivered in his leaf pants, cold after his run despite the heat from the fire that always burned in the huge room.
'Sweetie, you look frozen – put this on.' Sugar removed her pink jacket and offered it to him.
'Thanks, but I'd rather freeze.' Freddy jumped back as if she had offered him spinach. 'As if,' he muttered under his breath.
Flasheart seemed to laugh, but then he shook his head and stamped his foot.
'Dad wants to transform. You fair maidens had better give him some privacy.' Freddy puffed his chest out. 'This is wolf's business.'
Mrs Mutton cried out in horror at his revealing the secrets of the werefolk to a human. In a microsecond she had whipped her wooden spoon out of her apron pocket and whacked Freddy on the backside.
'Ow!' he yelped. 'What's that for?' He jumped around and Mrs Mutton tried to reach him.
'Keep your big mouth shut for once, young pup,' the old lady hissed, aiming a raised eyebrow at Sugar.
'She knows everything already,' Freddy yelped, jumping out of reach again. 'It's not fair – Cripp told her, not me.'
'Ma'am. I really can't approve of showing sweet young children the wooden spoon.' Sugar placed herself between the boy and his tormenter.
'Sweet? I'm not sweet,' Freddy cried.
'No, he isn't. When you have spent three hundred years raising wolf pups, madam, I'll be interested in your advice,' the housekeeper snorted.
'Three hundred years?' Sugar repeated in disbelief. 'That's not possible.'
'Oh yeah! She's ancient, like a mummy – she knew my great-grandfather,' Freddy confirmed.
'And oh, how he needed the wooden spoon!' Mrs Mutton confirmed. 'Spare the spoon, spoil the wolf.'
'Yeah, that's right,' Freddy agreed. 'I'm not sweet – I'm a spoilt wolf.'
Flasheart snarled with impatience.
'Oh yeah – sorry, Dad.' Freddy looked at the ladies. 'A little privacy?' he reminded them.
Sugar laid her jacket over the back of a chair and looked up innocently at Freddy. 'What? Oh, okay, sweetie.'
'Humph. We'll wait in the kitchen.' Mrs Mutton scowled. 'But be quick. Who knows where those two blackguards are.'
Once the ladies had left the hall, Freddy reached forward and took the Moonstone from his father's ear, then dashed upstairs to find them both some clothes.
With a silent howl the wolf climbed up onto his hind legs and felt the rush of transformation over his limbs.
Freddy returned and handed over a pair of trousers and a t-shirt. He had discarded his own green leaf underpants for something slightly more normal.
'Thanks, Pinky.' Flasheart smiled and ruffled his son's hair. 'How was camp?'
'Weird,' Freddy said. 'Lots of ballet, green vegetables
and bloodsucking witch things.'
'Greens? Poor pup . . . but do my Fangen eyes deceive me – or do you have a tail?'
'Don't ask!' Freddy shook his head.
They both jumped as they heard a crash come from the kitchen.
'Save it for later.' Flasheart placed a hand on Freddy's shoulder. 'Keep close.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Hidden Halls
A short while earlier, Chester and Hotspur had given up on their search of the castle. They could hardly look at each other, so irritated were they. Each was convinced it was the other's fault that they hadn't located the entrance to the Hidden Halls. Matters became even worse when Sir Hotspur joined Chester in the kitchen and found there was no food. If you have ever met a hungry wolf, you will know just how grumpy they can be.
'I'll have a chocolate biscuit,' he said to himself, and then came to a shuddering halt. 'You, sir!' He pointed at Chester. 'You have eaten the last Tim Tam!'
Every living being knows that this is a terrible crime.
'I certainly did not.' Chester touched his perfect moustache.
'Liar!' Hotspur roared.
With a cry of outrage, Chester took out his glove and slip-slapped it across the other man's red cheeks. 'How dare you insult my honour. I challenge you, Hotspur.'
'Very well, sir!' Hotspur's eyes glittered as he whipped free a sword from above the kitchen fireplace.
Chester's face fell as he looked in vain for a weapon. His only choice was to flee. He skipped out the back door and into the garden, the tails of his perfect suit flapping behind him.
'Cowardly Weren! I'll teach you to steal Tim Tams, sir!' Hotspur cried, chasing after him. The two men had sprinted across the grass behind the castle, just as Freddy and his companions had walked up to the front door.
Mrs Mutton was making a pot of tea and trying not to answer any of Sugar's questions. She tutted in disgust when she opened the biscuit tin and found it empty.
'Hmm.' She eyed Sugar. What on earth was Flasheart thinking, bringing a human here?
'What's this?' Sugar asked with interest, looking at the parchment that Chester had left on the table in his haste to escape Hotspur.
'Don't know, some sort of map.' The old lady shrugged. 'Do you eat chocolate biscuits?'
'Oh, yes, ma'am. I'll eat anything sweet. That's why my nickname is Sugar,' she said politely. She was still uncertain how to behave in a werewolf's kitchen.
'Well, at least that's normal,' the old lady replied. 'What's your real name?'
'Candy,' Sugar replied.
'Americans,' Mrs Mutton muttered under her breath. 'I'll fetch more Tim Tams from my secret supply.'
She took a small key from a hook hidden inside a cupboard. 'Can't be too careful where wolves are concerned.'
She disappeared down a corridor and into an old workroom.
Sugar was looking at the huge old fireplace and rows of polished pans and dishes when the back door crashed open.
'Come out, you lily-smelling flowerpot.' Hotspur's bushy red face was sweating from his run.
Sugar screamed and threw a pan at him. Sir Hotspur bashed it away with his sword and advanced towards the startled lady.
'What are you doing in my castle, madam?' he hissed, and held his sword to Sugar's throat. A frying pan hit him across the back of the head and the great man slumped to the floor.
'She shoots, she scores.' Mrs Mutton nodded in satisfaction. 'As usual.'
'Never fear, ladies, for I am here!' Flasheart jumped into the room.
'And so am I!' Freddy leapt gracefully after him, landing on his tiptoes.
'Too late, pups.' The old lady pointed to where Sir Hotspur lay on the floor. 'Already dealt with. Lots of girl-power in here.'
'Why, my dear Mrs Mutton.' Flasheart grinned. 'You always were handy with kitchen utensils.'
'Foolish puppy.' The old lady couldn't help but smile.
'Oh yes, Tim Tams!' said Freddy, coming straight to the point.
He sat down at the table and started eating the chocolate biscuits that Mrs Mutton had put down. His eyes drifted over the old map. It was like a plan of a building only not quite – there was something strangely familiar about it.
Flasheart turned to Sugar, took her hand, and gave a low bow. 'What a pleasure to finally talk to you, Ms Smith.' He smiled and his sharp teeth flashed white.
America's top reporter blushed.
'Flasheart Lupin, at your service and in your debt.' He pushed his black hair from his eyes and gave her a special raise of his eyebrows.
'Oh no, please, no debt. It was my mistake to have taken you from your family.' Sugar smiled nervously, unsure of how to speak to a man whom she had only known as a wolf. 'Please call me Sugar.'
'It would be my pleasure, Sugar –' Flasheart kissed her hand again and winked – 'to be in debt to such a beautiful woman.'
'Oh, cat's-vomit!' Freddy couldn't bear any more. What was his father thinking, talking such mush to a girl? He was the Grand Growler!
Flasheart laughed, but it died as he saw Chester appear behind Sugar. He had been to his room to fetch his gun. Everyone froze as Chester reached out and took Sugar by the elbow. When she tried to pull her arm away but couldn't, she was very frightened too.
'My dearest lady,' Chester said smarmily. 'It would pain me to have to shoot you, but if I must . . .'
'Do so and I'll tear the flesh from your bones,' Flasheart growled, no longer sounding mushy at all. Freddy cheered up a little – this was more like a wolf's talk.
'Ah, Flasheart, I see you have returned home and brought your idiot of a son with you.'
Freddy looked around for who he might mean.
'Do not mistake me for a ranting fool like your brother,' Chester continued, nodding at the man sprawled on the floor. 'The only reason you are alive, wolf, is because I allowed it. I shall not hesitate to shoot. Now show me the entrance to the Hidden Halls.'
Freddy looked at his father with a worried frown. He didn't know what was in the Hidden Halls – but he knew that it was the most sacred of secrets. Flasheart was watching Sugar. He couldn't reach Chester without putting her in mortal danger.
'You will not find what you seek,' Flasheart said after an unbearable pause.
Sugar's eyes opened wider in alarm – wasn't he going to save her?
'I shall have the Treasure of Bane,' Chester declared, and readied his gun. 'Give me what I want or you know what I will do.' His voice was like ice.
'Very well.' Flasheart nodded and Sugar gasped in relief.
'Good choice.' Chester waved them all to the door. 'Keep your hands high.'
Freddy saw his father's signals, perceptible only to a Fangen. A raise of a black eyebrow, the flare of a nostril and the tap of a foot.
Run – escape, he was telling his son.
Freddy's tail wagged uncertainly. He didn't want to seem like a coward. Then, as Flasheart turned to leave the kitchen, Freddy caught another signal. The wolfish curl of a lip and a tap of teeth. Rathbone.
Danger, Freddy's ears and tail replied.
Must risk, Flasheart's eyes and nose told him. He stared significantly at the parchment on the table. Help me.
They walked from the kitchen towards the main rooms of the castle. Freddy went first, next Mrs Mutton, then Flasheart, and lastly Sugar and Chester, with his gun at her back. When they came to a very narrow section of corridor and Chester's view was blocked, Freddy nimbly skipped to the left and sprinted out through the door into the central courtyard. He dived into the rosemary bushes and lay still, his stomach tight with nerves.
But Flasheart had read his enemy well. When he saw that Freddy had run, Chester narrowed his eyes and pulled his moustache in annoyance, but he stayed calm. He thought the boy too much of an idiot to get in his way.
'You should keep that pup under control, Flasheart,' he hissed, to which the wolf only smiled. 'Which way?'
'To the dungeons,' Flasheart replied.
Freddy crept back to the k
itchen. Sir Hotspur was beginning to moan and murmur, as if in a bad dream. Freddy inched carefully into the room and grabbed the parchment from the table. In another minute, he was sitting on the loo seat with the door safely locked. His father's silent word Rathbone had made his mind race. He looked at the old paper, intrigued, and then he realised – it was not a plan of the castle at all!
He raced to the Great Hall and looked up at the tapestry of Sir Rathbone on his black horse, his sword held high and the moonlight shining down on him. Behind him were the arches of huge beech trees and in the top left corner was Farfang Castle, the very highest point of which was Freddy's tower.
Freddy looked again at the parchment. It was a design for the tapestry. What Chester had believed were rooms were in fact divided sections of the artwork, and what had seemed to be arched entrances were the tree's branches. In the corners of the tapestry were the three sacred symbols of the werefolk: bottom left was a Moonstone, bottom right a Blavendoch, top right the full moon. In the top left corner was Freddy's tower, but this had not been drawn on the parchment – had it been deliberately left off? Freddy looked at the ancient writing at the bottom of the 'map'.
'The Key to the Hidden Halls and the Treasure of Bane.'
He frowned and looked more closely at the tapestry. Sir Rathbone's sword was pointing directly at his tower. The long hours he had spent up there, banished, came back to him. An image began to grow in his mind.
'Oh, ha-ha-hardy-ha!' He raced over to the Red Stairs.
As Chester marched Flasheart and the ladies through the Great Hall, Sugar pointed at her jacket.
'Can I just put it on, please? This place is as cold as a tomb.' She shivered.
Chester rolled his eyes.
'Quickly then,' he muttered. She grabbed it.
'You won't get away with this,' Sugar said, adjusting the jacket as they all descended into the cold damp gloom.
'My dear lady, why ever not?' Chester smiled coldly.
'Because bad guys never win.'
'Oh, Ms Smith – this is real life. The bad guys always win.'
They came to the dungeons.
'Now, Flasheart. Enough of this foolery. There is no doorway here. Hotspur and I have searched it a hundred times,' said Chester, staring at the cold grey stone of the corridor.