The Phredde Collection (27 page)

Splosh, splosh, splosh, splosh
…

Splish, leap, splish, leap, splish, leap
…

Splosh, splosh, splosh, splosh
…

The tunnel seemed to go on forever—the green light and the slimy water and nothing in front of us but more green tunnel and more water…

Splosh, splosh, splosh, splosh
…

Splish, leap, splish, leap, splish, ZOTTTTT!

‘Bruce, will you stop doing that!’ yelled Phredde.

‘Doing what?’ asked Bruce guiltily.

‘Zotting flies with your tongue!’

‘It wasn’t a fly! It was a juicy giant vampire mosquito!’ objected Bruce. ‘I wonder what it feeds on down here. Maybe it likes rat blood, or…’

‘Bruce!’

‘Well, I was hungry,’ muttered Bruce.

Splosh, splosh, splosh, splosh…

Splish, leap, splish, leap, splish, leap…

I was beginning to feel peckish again, too.

‘Phredde?’

‘Yes,’ said Phredde.

‘Can’t you at least PING! up something to eat?’

‘Sure, I can do that,’ said Phredde.

‘Well, why don’t you?’

Phredde PING!ed. Suddenly my right hand was full of hamburger and my left hand had a paper cup of banana smoothie in it.

I felt a bit better after the hamburger and smoothie.

‘What will I do with the cup and paper?’ I asked, as the final crumb wriggled down into my tum.

‘Just drop it!’ said Bruce. Even he seemed to be getting sick of sploshing up the tunnel now.

‘But that’s littering!’ I objected.

Bruce turned to stare at me. ‘You’re in a slimy tunnel under a dungeon heading towards who-knows-what and you’re worried about
littering
!?’

‘Well, littering is still littering,’ I argued. ‘I mean, the next person to come down this tunnel isn’t going to want to look at my grotty hamburger wrapping…’

‘The next person who comes down this tunnel might be an evil phaery with a meat cleaver and a book called
101 Ways to Eat a Prudence
,’ pointed out Bruce. ‘Oh, look, I’ll deal with the rubbish…’

There was another PING! and it was gone.

Which gave me an idea. ‘Hey, Phredde,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Phredde.

‘How about you and Bruce PING! up something else? Something really useful.’

‘Like what?’ enquired Phredde.

‘Like something to get us out of here. Like a map.’

‘But if I don’t know where we are I can’t PING! up a map of it,’ Phredde pointed out, reasonably enough.

‘Oh. Right. How about…how about a few machine guns?’

‘Do you know how to use a machine gun?’ asked Bruce interestedly.

‘Well, no,’ I said. ‘For some reason Mrs Olsen hasn’t taught us about machine guns yet, remember? But it doesn’t look hard in the movies.’

‘Wouldn’t work anyway,’ said Phredde. ‘We’re up against magic here.’

‘I know!’ I yelled.

‘What?’ asked Bruce.

‘A sniffer dog! They can find the way out of here…’

‘We either go back or forward,’ Bruce pointed out. ‘Anyway, we don’t need a sniffer dog.’

‘Why not?’ I said, miffed.

‘Because I think we’re there. Look!’ Bruce pointed with one froggy hand.

I peered into the dimness. Sure enough, the light in front of us was brighter. It looked yellowish, too, not green at all. I could just make out big grey steps leading upwards, out of the tunnel.

‘Free!’ I yelled.

‘Shh,’ hissed Bruce. ‘They might hear you!’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know! That’s just it!’

‘Okay,’ I whispered.

We sploshed—well, Phredde and I sploshed and Bruce leapt and splished—as quietly as possible up to the stone stairs. They were even bigger close-up, and disappeared into a big black hole in the ceiling.

I peered upwards. ‘Can’t hear anything!’ I whispered. The thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.

‘Me either,’ whispered Phredde.

‘Alright!’ Bruce squared his froggy shoulders. ‘You girls stay here and I’ll tiptoe up and see if it’s safe, then…’

‘What!’ yelled Phredde and then remembered the need for quiet. ‘What do you mean “you girls”?’ she whispered fiercely.

‘Yeah!’ I said.

‘Well, I’m a bloke, so I should protect…’

‘Fruitcakes!’ I hissed. ‘Anyway, you’re not a boy, you’re a frog. I think I should go first.’

‘But you got us into this!’ whispered Bruce.

‘Then I
really
should go first!’

Phredde stuck her chin out. ‘You’re my best friend, and if anything happens to you, it happens to me.’

Bruce sighed. ‘Okay, let’s all go first. The steps are wide enough.’

So we did. Phredde and I tiptoed, and Bruce leapt. (Frogs are pretty quiet when they leap—you see if you can hear one some time.)

One step…two steps…three steps…four. We had reached the top now.

‘It’s still dark!’ whispered Phredde.

‘I think…yes, there’s a door!’ I whispered back. ‘I’m going to open it. Alight, one, two, three…’

The door creaked open.
Creeeeaaaaaakkkkkk
. It was the creakiest door I’d ever heard.

I peered out. It was dark, but at least I could see that it was an enormous room, all echoey and gloomy, with a high ceiling draped with dusty cobwebs and windows right up at the top, and indistinct, gloomy-looking
furniture too. A few bats flapped through the dimness sort of gloomily as well.

‘No one here!’ I whispered. ‘Come on.’

We tiptoed into the room. The door creaked shut behind us.

Creeeeeeaaaakkkkk…

‘Surprise!’

The thunder crashed! The lights flicked on. They were so bright they dazzled my eyes. When the red spots had finally died away, there was the sweet little old lady.

But now she no longer looked old, or sweet, or even little. Her hair was long and black, and she wore this black, trailing dress sort of dripping all over her, too. Her lipstick was really bright red.

‘An evil phaery!’ shrieked Phredde. ‘Run!’

I grabbed the door handle behind us and tugged.

Nothing happened.

Phredde pulled too, and even Bruce wrapped his long tongue around the handle (and around our hands—which felt disgusting, in case you want to know). The door stayed stuck.

There was a delighted (and evil, naturally) chuckle behind us. ‘There’s no point in tugging, children. You won’t budge it.’

Phredde hurled herself round. ‘Who are you calling “children”?’ she yelled.

The evil phaery looked a bit surprised. ‘Well, you
are
children,’ she pointed out.

‘Well, sure,’ said Phredde. ‘But you don’t have to sound so patronising!’

‘What would you prefer to be called?’ enquired the phaery. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

Phredde considered. ‘“Kids” is okay,’ she admitted.

The evil phaery smiled again. It wasn’t a very nice smile. ‘Very well then, kids,’ she said. ‘You’re trapped. Finished! Bamboozled!’

‘No, we’re not,’ I said.

The evil phaery blinked, which must have taken real effort, ’cause she had about half a tonne of mascara on each eyelid.

‘Er, why not?’ she enquired.

‘Cause Phredde and Bruce are phaeries too!’ I informed her triumphantly. ‘They can’t magic you, and you can’t magic them.’

‘That’s right,’ said the evil phaery. She didn’t look very upset about it.

‘So they can just walk out that door…’ I looked around, but there was no door to be seen, ‘er, I mean climb out those windows, and go and get help.’

‘Mmm? Really?’ The evil phaery lowered herself gracefully into a dark wooden chair. ‘And where will they get this help from?’

‘Er…Pru,’ whispered Phredde.

‘Sshhh,’ I said. ‘The Sweet Pea Guesthouse,’ I told the phaery.

‘Those little gnomes? I don’t think so,’ said the evil phaery.

‘Look, Pru,’ whispered Phredde. ‘I think you should know…’

‘Sshhh,’ I told her. ‘Okay, Phredde’s mum and dad,’ I informed the evil phaery. ‘And they’ll go and tell the Phaery Queen, and…’

The evil phaery laughed. It was the sort of laugh Amelia at school does when she’s the only one to have
worked our homework problems out right. ‘And what do you think the Phaery Queen will do?’

‘Er…send you to gaol for kidnapping?’

‘Of course not!’ gurgled the evil phaery happily. ‘If she could have done that she’d have tried it years ago! You see, I’m part of Phaeryland just as she is. I can’t magic her, and she can’t magic me.’

‘But she’s the queen!’ I said stupidly.

‘A constitutional monarchy,’ said the evil phaery. ‘After all, what can she do to any of us? She can’t magic us, because we’re magic too.’

‘How about an army?’ I suggested. ‘With swords to cut people’s heads off and…’

‘Oh, no,’ said the evil phaery. ‘That wouldn’t be nice, would it? The good queen couldn’t possibly do that!’

‘Then what
can
she do?’ I cried.

‘Just be nice,’ said the evil phaery. ‘That’s her job.’

‘Phredde!’ I wailed. ‘It isn’t true, is it?’

Phredde nodded. ‘I tried to tell you,’ she said. ‘Why do you think Mum and Dad don’t live in Phaeryland?’

‘I thought…I thought…’ I began. ‘I thought they just wanted a change…’

Phredde shook her head. ‘You don’t just change countries because you want a change! My older sister The Phaery Milkblossom was kidnapped by a troll, and we had to pay a ransom before it ate her, and Mum and Dad didn’t want that happening to me, so they decided to move.’

‘And our family castle was taken over by ghouls,’ said Bruce. ‘That’s why we moved…’

‘I…I had no idea…’ I said slowly. ‘Look, I’m sorry…’

The evil phaery glanced at her watch. ‘How touching,’ she said. ‘But really, we do have to get on with this.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Have you got lots of other people in your dungeons to terrorise?’

‘No,’ said the evil phaery. ‘It’s nearly time for
Cooking with Crueliana
on TV. She does such lovely things with human brains…so I’m afraid we really do have to get on with the torture.’

‘But you can’t torture Phredde and Bruce!’ I protested.

‘Oh no,’ said the evil phaery. ‘Just you. After all, it’s
you
I’m going to cook.’ She rubbed her hands gleefully. ‘It’s been
years
since I had a human to torture! No magic protection! Just you and me, and the nose pliers, the thumb screws, the vampire mosquitoes…’

‘What are nose pliers?’ I asked.

‘Don’t worry, dearie, you’ll find out,’ said the evil phaery. ‘Now,’ she turned to Phredde and Bruce, ‘are you two staying to watch? Or do you want to try to clamber out the windows?’

Phredde looked at Bruce. Bruce nodded slightly. ‘No,’ said Phredde. ‘What we’re going to do is…CHARGE!’

Phredde leapt. Bruce jumped. I waited for the evil phaery to crash to the floor…

WHUMP! Bruce and Phredde crashed to the floor instead.

‘What…what was that?’ demanded Phredde shakily. ‘You can’t magic us!’

‘Of course not, dearies,’ said the evil phaery. ‘It’s a glass wall. You can’t get at me, but I…’ There was another PING! and I was suddenly next to the phaery ‘…can magic your friend over here. Now, have you any final questions before we begin?’

‘Just one,’ I said. ‘What’s your name?’

The evil phaery blinked. ‘My name?’ she said.

‘Yeah. If I’m going to be tortured by an evil phaery it’d be good to know
which
evil phaery. I mean, if Phredde and Bruce have to go back and tell my mum and dad I’ve been chopped into pieces…’ I gulped, and tried to keep my voice steady, ‘…by an evil phaery, my mum and dad are going to want some details.’

The evil phaery sighed. ‘Very well, then,’ she conceded. ‘My name is The Phaery Daffodil.’

‘The Phaery Daffodil?’ I asked. ‘I thought it’d be something like The Evil Phaery Wormwood or Hemlock or something.’

The Phaery Daffodil looked annoyed. ‘Look, my parents didn’t know I was going to decide to be an evil phaery when I left school. They wanted me to be a dentist.’

‘Oh,’ I said.

‘Right,’ said The Phaery Daffodil. ‘On with the torture! Torture gives people such a lovely taste!’

Lightning flickered across the gloomy room. The thunder went
tweet, tweet, tweet…

Tweet, tweet, tweet?

‘Mordred!’ yelled The Phaery Daffodil. ‘What the fruitcake are you doing with that thunder?’

‘Sorry, Mum!’ The voice floated down from somewhere above the ceiling. ‘I pressed the wrong control button.’

‘Well, unpress it then!!’

‘I can’t!’

‘Fruitcakes!’ swore The Phaery Daffodil. ‘How can you have a decent torture session without serious thunder?’

‘Look, really, I don’t mind,’ I said politely.

‘Well, bring on the vampire mosquitoes, then!’ called The Phaery Daffodil.

‘Yes Mum.’

The
tweet, tweet, tweeting
stopped. The room slowly filled with a deep, droning, buzzing noise…

I took a deep breath. ‘Er…goodbye Phredde. Goodbye Bruce. You don’t have to watch this, you know!’

‘You’re my best friend!’ cried Phredde desperately. ‘If you’re going to be tortured by vampire mosquitoes I want to watch.’

‘Wow, thanks,’ I said.

‘You know what I mean!’ yelled Phredde. ‘And you, The Phaery Daffodil, if you hurt my friend you’d…you’d better watch out, that’s all I can say…’

The buzzing sound grew louder.

And louder.

And louder…

I looked around. There was no sign of any mosquitoes, vampire or otherwise.

‘Sorry Mum,’ came the voice from the ceiling again. ‘I think there’s something wrong with the vampire mosquito program. All I’m getting is sound.’

‘Then turn it off! I knew we should have used real ones!’

‘I couldn’t find any! There are none left down in the dungeons!’ said Mordred’s voice above us.

‘I ate them all in the tunnel,’ admitted Bruce.

The Phaery Daffodil looked more and more upset. ‘You plot and scheme for years to get a human to torture, and what happens?’

‘I’ve got some mummies,’ offered Mordred’s voice.

The Phaery Daffodil sighed. ‘I suppose that’s better than nothing.’

The buzzing stopped. Suddenly a door appeared in the middle of the room. It opened with a long, deep creak, and the first mummy stepped through.

I stared at it. No bloodstained bandages, no little box containing its brain and stomach…

This mummy wore an old blue tracksuit, all sagging at the knees. She carried half a dozen plastic bags, too. ‘Give me a hand!’ she puffed to The Phaery Daffodil. ‘These groceries weigh a tonne!’

Another mummy was coming through the door now. This one was talking on her mobile phone. ‘You need what!? A sheep costume? By Thursday! How on earth am I going to…’

‘Mordred!’ shrieked The Phaery Daffodil.

‘What?’ called Mordred.

The Phaery Daffodil gritted her teeth. ‘These are not mummies!’

‘Yes, they are,’ protested Mordred. ‘It says here on the program, “Assorted mummies, with sound effects”.’

‘Enough!’ screamed The Phaery Daffodil. ‘I’ve had it up to HERE with all this Temple of Gloom stuff!’

‘But Mum, it’s my homework project!’

‘Homework?’ I asked.

‘Yeah!’ Mordred’s voice was suddenly really enthusiastic. ‘I’m doing a tech course on special effects for horror movies. It’s so cool! It’s all done with computers nowadays! We have to do this special project for the end of term and I chose a Temple of Gloom, because I thought it might be useful for Mum’s work…’ The voice trailed off sadly.

‘You’re being really mean,’ I informed The Phaery Daffodil. ‘Your son is just trying to help, and you don’t appreciate the effort he’s making at all!’

‘I’m an evil phaery!’ shrieked The Phaery Daffodil. ‘I’m
supposed
to be mean!’

‘Huh!’ I said.

‘She’s right,’ said Mordred’s voice. ‘You just don’t
understand
, Mum! You just keep criticising me, and stressing out when the least little thing goes wrong, like that little mix-up with the giant mosquitoes yesterday…’

‘They were supposed to drink blood, not raspberry cordial!’ cried The Phaery Daffodil.

‘That’s parents for you,’ I said.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I was being really cool and heroic despite the fact Phredde and Bruce and I were imprisoned in a Temple of Gloom, even if it was just Mordred’s homework project. But really all my insides had turned into ice cream with caramel sauce and I was
terrified
! But I
thought, if you just keep the bad guys talking, then sooner or later some hero will come bursting in and rescue you…

Well, that’s how it works in the movies, anyway. I just hoped it worked like that in Phaeryland too.

‘Well, I’m sick of all this gloom stuff!’ The Phaery Daffodil was yelling. ‘You just get rid of it!’

‘But Mum…’

‘At once!’

PING!

The Temple of Gloom vanished. We were in a kitchen, but it wasn’t the lamington kitchen. It was another kitchen entirely.